Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was a cold day, but with beautiful sunshine in the blue sky, a snowstorm was forecast for next week. Stanford had woken up at 8 a.m. and was already preparing his first cup of coffee. He was feeling excited, he was almost there for the big portal test, and wanted to celebrate this achievement with his friend, so prepared a very pleasant breakfast for both of them; eggs, pancakes, toast, even bacons, he did it all with a smile on his face and humming as he sipped his coffee at each stage of the meal.

I could hear Fiddleford coming into the kitchen, standing in the entrance, he sounded anxious, probably because of the test, it was their life's work, Fiddleford worked hard on the mechanical part of the portal, it was only fair.

“Good morning, F” The scientist said with a cheerful smile on his face, placing the plates of food on the wooden table.

“Yes, good morning, Stanford” Fiddleford replied as if he was too distracted to answer correctly. This frustrated the Author.

“What's the matter, man? Not excited about the test tomorrow? I was thinking-” he began, sitting down in the chair in front of his work partner. ”We could go out for dinner to celebrate, maybe it'll cheer you up a bit.”

“Ah, well, yes, of course.” McGucket replied, finally looking at his friend, clearly trying to be pleasant and hide his nervousness.

Stanford decided to ignore this for now, he wanted his day to be incredible, the last day for the first day of the rest of his life. Everything will change when that portal opens, he was so looking forward to telling his Muse after the test.

The two friends ate silently, if Pines' hyperactivity was silent, but Fiddleford was used to it, he found it adorable, remembered the simple time at college, they could have stayed there , he thought, they could have stopped right there.

After eating, the scientist worked on the dishes and then sat on the balcony to sunbathe and write some more in his diary, detailing the drawings of the Fuel Gauge he had drawn during the last little test. He wondered if his muse would finally show up that night to bring him good luck, maybe he was waiting too long... but it's worth dreaming, right? He looked at the forest in front of him and smiled. He would finally understand everything, he could finally understand, but he had to be patient, and had to wait until the date and time chosen for the test.

To vent his desire to open that portal at that moment, he decided to check the dummy they would be using for the test, to see if it had the necessary density for the test and even decided to put a happy face on it with a blue pen, he wouldn't mind, if he entered that portal now he would come out with a big smile too. It was too much for a human to bear, too much for a genius like him not to ignore what was right in front of him, behind the door and the massive glass of the security area. This was his masterpiece, his life's work, his gateway to meeting his Muse in the flesh, but he pretended not to think about it, maybe he was being too intrusive for the entity, and maybe that explained his constant disappearances... 

He shook his head and left the dummy on the office chair, opening the door and standing in front of the large triangular portal. Then decided to train.

“I, my Muse, may be making an extreme request of you” He sounded shaky at the thought of standing in front of that glittering being “I made this portal, yes, for my great research into the Grand and Unified Theory of Weirdness, that's why I made this portal” He swallowed dryly, looking at his right hand with its flawed lines and his extra finger. “But-!”

He was startled shortly afterwards by the sound of an elevator and hid his hand in his chest, looking back to see Fiddleford arriving, looking at Stanford in confusion.

“Stanford, what are you doing here? I thought you'd be in your office”

The brown-eyed man's face closed, turning completely to his friend on the other side of the corridor.

“I'm asking you the same thing.” He said almost possessively over the doorway. “I was just checking it out for the big day, that's all.”

“... Yes, the same” The mechanic said walking slowly towards the door ”But I have to tell you, I…-”

“Could you give me some space? Please?” Ford interrupted his longtime friend, trying to sound pleasant. “Trust me, I've did this project, I know where to look and check. You seem anxious, enjoy yourself and rest up for dinner.”

Fiddleford felt the chill he always felt when Stanford acted like this, as if he was hiding something much bigger than everything they had built up in their relationship, it annoyed him, he just wanted to help, and it seemed that something essential to the construction of the portal was missing.

“All right, I'll... distract myself with my new personal project.” The bumpkin said, lowering his head slightly, nervously arranging his lab coat on his body. He looked at his friend once more and walked out, entering the elevator and watching it close behind him.

Now alone, Stanford took a deep breath and looked at the portal again. It was better to concentrate on what he had come here to do and check for any slightest fault in his beloved portal.

▲

It was late afternoon and Ford was already getting ready for dinner, he hadn't seen Fiddleford since that meeting, had he been rude? Well, he would understand at dinner, he knew he wouldn't miss the big celebration. They wouldn't be eating in a fancy place, in fact it was the Greasy's Diner, not a bad thing, the food there was delicious, but he hadn't imagined it would be in such a low place. Shrugged and went downstairs to the living room, looking around for his friend.

To the six-fingered man's delight, his assistant was there, wearing a green button-down shirt that Ford thought looked rather nice on his colleague; he was sure Emma-May liked that one. With a satisfied smile he hugged F, slapping an arm against his back.

“Excited? Food's on me!” He winked and opened the door to leave the shack and moved to the car and got in to drive. Fiddleford did the same, sitting down next to his friend and glancing at him, he seemed much more anxious than in the morning, why? He should be happy!

When they arrived at the restaurant, they went inside and sat down at a more reserved table, tapping the table restlessly. In his anxiety, he even took out a piece of paper to make a perfect, adorable triangular shape that made him smile, but that made him realize that so far F hadn't said a word.

“Come on, what's bothering you so much? I thought you'd be more excited, you love tests.” He saw the coffee being delivered by Susan - one of the waitresses - and drank it immediately, thanking her as he left. 

F finally took a deep breath and looked at Stanford.

“I'd be excited but...” He picked up a piece of paper and drew something pushing the paper in front of Ford and on the side of the paper in a triangular shape. “This is a mistake. Failure is imminent, I've done many, many calculations, Stanford. There's no way this can work... and if it does, it'll be a disaster, a danger to Gravity Falls, even to the world.”

Stanford's face closed up completely, even becoming furious.

“ What? ” He knew very well what he'd heard, but thought he'd heard wrong coming from the man who'd trusted him with his life project.

“We're being negligent, greedy, this is too dangerous...!” Fiddleford said dryly, trying to cope with the furious look on his dear friend's face. “You still haven't told me the origin of this portal, how you managed to figure out how to make something so advanced without even knowing the mechanics...! I'm not doubting you, my friend, but you always seem to be hiding something big from me...!”

“ You should know your place .” It was the only thing the brown-eyed man said, clenching his fist above the table.

“Please, Stanford, this is too risky, this is crazy even for me, an inventor!” The bumpkin quickly took out of his bag a folder with the front written “The Haunting Anomalies of Gravity Falls” with his name, Stanford F. Pines under the title. “I did this, for you, I spent three days writing this. It's all the information summarized in the diary, you can be a great scientist with this, you don't need that portal.”

“I need that portal.” He corrected his friend on the spot, gritted his teeth, picked up the folder and read it all “I'm just going to be an ordinary scientist with this, I want to be bigger , Fiddleford, I want to get past this!” He pointed his finger over one of his hands.

“ Please listen to me.”

“That's exactly what he said.” He shouldn't have trusted Fiddleford, he couldn't have given all the flavor of his great theory to a country bumpkin. Was that it? Did he want to give up at the last step? And if he published that whole article and F decided to take all the credit for having written it all, he wasn't an idiot to trust it 

“We're taking the test tomorrow night at eight o'clock sharp” The voice came harshly from his throat ”Be there or stay behind. It's your choice.” He put the money on the table and picked up the triangular paper from the table, leaving the restaurant.

The author walked back to the hut, carefully rummaging through the triangular piece of paper like a little stress toy. He couldn't believe it, and it was still nice enough to give Fiddleford a second chance. He remembered the words of his enlightened Muse:

“You're trusting the bumpkin too much, Sixer. Keep your eyes open before you become the new Tesla. ”

What would he say now? I shuddered to think, almost missing out on the great dream because of an irrational fear taking hold of the man. 

“I've told you before, IQ, you can't trust anyone, especially humans, with their filthy hands wanting to take everything of value from each other. You can only trust me, I know what's best for you.”

Again, another wise phrase from his extradimensional Inspiration, it was obvious that Fiddleford was going to take advantage of this. It was much more than his stupid technological project, it was a chance to travel through dimensions! He took a deep breath and stopped in a clearing very similar to the one where he had first met his Muse, full of birch trees, and sat there exhausted.

“It can't be that, I know F won't let me down.” His remnant of humanity sounded aloud as he looked at the paper triangle in his hands, as if he were talking to his beloved triangle “I need to give him this chance, and if he doesn't come, so be it, we can finish this on our own.” Smiled, noticing a soft tear coming from his right eye, and closed the eyes.

๋࣭ ⭑

When he opened his eyes, realized that was in his place of comfort, his internal request to see his muse before the test having been received as a kind gift. Excited - almost forgetting what was frustrating him before he fell asleep - floated through the books, papers and stars of Mindscape noticing the most beautiful being he had ever had the pleasure of meeting sitting in his lovely armchair.

“Ironic.” Said the creature. “Just like the first time.” He then sipped his tea with his eye.

With a more than cheerful smile, Stanford sat admiring the yellow triangle.

“Maybe it was meant to be.” The scientist couldn't stop smiling as he sipped his tea too. “You always show up to curb my anxiety attacks.”

“I'm here for that, Sixer, well, not exactly, but it comes with the package.” He squeezed his eye shut as a pleasant smile appeared.

The human's smile subsided and he began to look at his tea, thinking again about the reason for the crisis.

“I warned you, but you humans are so sentimental.” Bill snorted, raising his index finger, “but I'll give you a chance to give Banjo a second chance.”

“Do you think I'm being silly?” He swallowed, now looking at Bill Cipher.

“I think so, but humans are unpredictable, Poindexter.” The yellow being shrugged, releasing the tea to float away.

Stanford wondered with that sentence if his Muse thought that of him too, it amused him a little, he avoided the conversation about the assistant for the rest of the dream, playing chess and talking about the latest technical preparations for the Portal with his Muse.

▲

The scientist woke up at one o'clock in the afternoon with a bit of pain in his back, had slept all night leaning against the tree, opened his eyes and groaned softly at the sunlight in his eyes. He got up and looked around, noticing how the “eyes” of the birch trees seemed to be watching him intently and this was very comforting for him, he knew that his Muse was there watching him. Time to get ready, he'd already lost a lot of time walking to the hut.

For the rest of the day, Stanford stayed in the portal room, trying to ignore his anxiety about the time, the portal and the presence or lack of it from Fiddleford. He needed to focus.

He was almost there. Icarus would be proud of him if he saw him now.

Chapter Text

   It was eight o'clock on the dot, Fiddleford still hadn't shown up, Ford knew for a second that this was what would happen, he was fated not to trust any human, they were all disloyal and only slowed him down. He took a deep breath in the cabin, looking at the large portal through the glass, and determined, he did what he had been waiting for for days, it was time to open it and test it.
   He took the dummy in one arm and fixed his glasses before activating all the controls he needed on the large panel in front of him. When he saw the energy being generated and the blue ball of energy appearing in the center of the portal, he knew there was no turning back, it was now or never.
   Taking steps like Armstrong in his spaceship about to set foot on the moon, he entered the portal room until he abruptly stopped a step in front of the entrance and heard the sound of the elevator, his eyes widened and he turned his head sharply to look at Fiddleford, his assistant, coming out of the elevator.
The bumpkin looked visibly anxious, his hands were sweaty and his gaze was disastrous in its attempt to appear more confident. Despite all this, the anger in Stanford's chest ceased and a smile appeared on his face, happy to see that he hadn't lost his longtime friend.

   “I thought you weren't coming,” said the man holding the dummy, feeling more and more pressure coming from the portal ”Come on, it's almost active, I'll hold the dummy.”

   And he continued his long strides towards the portal, almost crossing the safety line, he was there, he was almost there, just a few steps away from entering it and finally getting to know the multiverse. Fiddleford, on the other hand, with tense shoulders, moved and stood much further back than Ford, watching as the great portal began to pull everything that was light, such as strands of hair or clothes, towards it.   
   Stanford, impatiently, was already moving the dummy on his lap, ready to release it into the pulling area. Dummy's smile seemed dull next to Ford's beaming smile, and this frightened his partner, F, who looked at the scientist with an uncomfortable gaze. He knew that Stanford was hiding something, who was he that he had mentioned last night? He swallowed and looked back to see if the 100% active portal warning was flashing, and it was.

   “Okay, looks ready, let's get on with it...” Fiddleford said hastily, taking another step back and scratching his arm.

   Stanford didn't even wait for the sentence to be completed, he took a false step to move the dummy forward until he felt the rope wrapping around his right leg and pulling him harder than he imagined towards the portal, his reaction was surprise, but fear? No, he knew he would be safe if he were on the other side of the portal.
   The calmness of the scientist being sucked into the portal with the miscalculation of the rope made Fiddle shiver more and shout for his friend, quickly moving to grab the rope loosely due to his trembling.
    A sensation of touching the opening of the portal was something the author couldn't describe, it was wet and gelatinous at the same time as it felt dry, he closed his eyes tightly with his body reacting in terror even though his brain was calmer. If he was honest with himself, that's what he wanted, to be that doll.
    When he opened his eyes, feeling that he was in a different area, with a less dense atmosphere than on earth, he noticed that he was in a very dark place with a brick border - it looked a lot like his Muse's lovely bricks - in saturated colors like a gradient of pink that passed into green and bluish-purple, it was something he would never see on earth, that much he was sure of.
    He felt pressure on his leg from what, he quickly guessed, was Fiddleford grabbing him and pulling him back to the dull human reality, so, in an act of desperation to see more from his curiosity, he turned around to see a shape rapidly approaching him, almost like a flash, and soon after to see something that was customary, the eye of his muse, that cat-like eye, but this time it was three times bigger, almost the size of his back.
    The eye watched him intently for milliseconds that seemed like hours in Stanford's mind until he heard a very familiar rumbling voice.

   “What are you doing here, Sixer? You're early.” It was music to the scientist's ears, he could tell that Bill's voice was considerably different in the flesh, like the difference in a person's voice on the phone and in front of you, completely different.

   
   Before he could even reply, his beautiful Muse felt a pressure that made her feel an “uff” from himself and find herself gradually moving away from the yellow triangle that narrowed her pupil even more just watching him.

   “Don't worry, the next time will be definite-” was the last thing Ford could hear from the triangle before he felt his head being pulled back to his home dimension and was greeted with the good old earth's abrupt gravity causing him to fall backwards onto the ground.

   That was... incredible, his mind was racing at that moment, calculating all the possibilities for the future after his brief visit to Bill Cipher's dimension, he was so close! When he saw the portal slowly closing, he tried to get up and stretched out his hand towards it as if it were his only salvation, and so he faltered, falling flat on his chest on the cold laboratory floor, hearing his friend's voice in the background.

   “STANFORD!” Fiddleford's hoarse voice quickly approached him and he felt his assistant's arms wrap around him, checking for any injuries “Are you all right? I was so scared!”

   The scientist didn't answer at the time, still staring at the portal, now turned off, and realizing how dark the room was. The gleaming smile soon faded as he realized more clearly what had happened, and now his expression was thoughtful and desperate.

   “We need...” It was the only thing he managed to say, feeling his voice sound dry in his throat and realizing how shaky he was.

   “Yes, we need to check you over, the dummy doesn't seem to have had any side-effects but you might have, you've only been gone a short time but-!” The assistant spoke anxiously, worried about his friend, but was interrupted by him.

   “We need to open it again, soon.” He added, “We're on the right track, F.” Somehow his voice sounded frightening to the bumpkin, which made him shiver. It sounded like an obsessed devotee having a chance to meet his god, the voice of a man who would do anything to have that chance.

   Fiddleford stood up, let go of Ford and looked at him with terrified eyes, stepping back as if he had seen something frightening.

   “I'm serious!” The brown-eyed man didn't understand his assistant's terror, but a smile returned to his face from ear to ear as he stood up shakily in front of F. “I need to get back there.”

   “No.” Pines' eyes widened when he heard his friend's denial.

   “No?” For some reason, that sounded more threatening than he wanted it to be.

   “Enough, Stanford! Enough of this! You're becoming obsessed!” He brushed it off his chest, looking at Ford “You've got to stop this! What if I wasn't here? What if you were trapped in that dimension?”

    Why would that be bad? Asked the Author mentally.

   “Who is He?!” Fiddleford continued, finally asking “Who is this thing that does this to your eyes?!” He swallowed, pointing at Pines' face.

   Ford blinked a few times in confusion until he looked at the metal of the portal and realized that his eyes were yellow, like when his Muse used his body to help him when he felt exhausted. But why now? Why now? What's worse, how could he explain it to F?

   “You...” He tried to begin his answer, “You'd think I was crazy.” And I'd try to steal him away from me “I know how you'd react.”

   “You're already crazy, Stanford!” The redneck replied, putting his hands on his head “THIS IS A CATASTROPHIC ERROR! “ He pointed at the portal

   Stanford's eyes narrowed and his fists clenched as he took a step towards his old friend.

   “Then why did you come back?” His eyes, even though he didn't realize it, had returned to normal, but they still seemed frightening to Fiddleford, who shrank back further. “Is that it? You set this up to try and convince me to forget about the portal?” 

   “No! I really wanted to show that I care about what matters to you, but-”

   “Get out of here. You traitor.” The author's voice sounded dead, hopeless “I don't need you interrupting my brilliant destiny, I don't need anyone.”

   “Stanford, come on, I'm just worried about you...”

   “Get out, get your things and get out, go back to your family, whatever! Get out of here!”

Eyes seemed to be watching them.

   “GET OUT NOW!” Ford said again, now with an irritated and betrayed tone “Come on, man!”

   F looked disappointed and even frightened at the man in front of him and sighed.

   “Sure, that's fine, Stanford...” He looked around, there was something very wrong in that room, with him, why? Who had done this to his dear friend?

   He felt like a wimp, walking out of that room with his head down and making his way to the elevator, taking one last look at Ford before getting in and seeing the door close behind him in the elevator.   

   He had to forget about it, there was no other way.

   Stanford was gasping for breath, clenching his six-fingered fists even tighter, looking at Dummy and then at the doorway, it shouldn't have been closed, why had the doorway closed? I swallowed, listening for a voice, he was used to the voice of his Muse sometimes in his head.

   “I know, don't worry, I'm sure Fordsy loved what he saw.”

    Was he listening to Bill without him driving directly at him? That was new. He moved to the portal, looking around and listening for that voice, realizing this time that it wasn't in his head.

   “He's going to continue his mission, I know it, he wouldn't let me down.”

   Another sentence from his Muse's confident voice and this time he was able to see where a piece of metal was rising from the portal and saw a galactic shape there, what was that? Trying to move it and not touch it - in case it was dangerous - he picked up a piece of metal that had come out of the portal - why had it fallen? - and moved it closer to him, watching carefully.   
   With the shape close and found, Stanford was finally able to look around, realizing that the portal was potentially destroyed, as if it hadn't calculated its resistance to the displacements that the portal's effect formed. Something was wrong.
    He moved into the control room, picking up a plate and glass left there, and carefully picked up the anomaly, putting it away.

   “Wasn't it supposed to... F compromised the portal?” His gaze lowered at the possibility and he looked at the portal. He could fix that, couldn't he? He knew that Fiddleford wouldn't go back and help Stanford with the portal. 

    Observing and analyzing the situation, he brought his face even closer to the thing and heard Bill again.
   
   “No, that wasn't supposed to happen, the portal was well worked to cause such a possibility.”

    His Muse was also confused by the situation? So something really had happened beyond his control. Would he be able to communicate with Bill with that? 

   “In theory, a distortion was caused between the two dimensions, a rift between the dimensions. If Sixer knows how to use it, we'll be able to deal with it without even needing the portal anymore.”

    This was both good and bad news, good because his mission was to make an opening between the dimensions, bad because he seemed much more unstable than his portal.
    This made him narrow his eyes in frustration, what had Fiddleford done? If only it was him. What if the problem was himself and he had done something wrong with his lovely Muse's project?
    He swallowed at the thought of that possibility, of having failed his Muse.
    The voice seemed to move away in the “Rift” as if Bill had moved away from the connection on his side.

    Okay. He needed to think about what to do first, to see if he could do anything about that portal. 

   He put down the plate and glass that contained the rift and went to the portal to check which parts were out of place. When he was apparently stable, he moved into the control room and approached the rift again, looking for more of his Muse, but still nothing.   
   When he went to open the portal again, he was startled by a whisper and this time the rift wasn't the source. He was getting paranoid, but that voice made him realize that he was being reckless, he needed to know exactly what his Muse had in mind and what to do after this situation and in a direct conversation.
    Looked at the clock in the living room and realized that it was now 11 p.m. It was late, not late enough for Ford and his overactive mind to complain, but late enough for his body to beg to lie down in the warm, comfortable bed. And this time he would use that opportunity to his advantage.
    He picked up the Rift, moving it so that it was just inside the glass, and went up the elevator, noticing the empty house, Fiddleford had certainly left and there was a piece of paper on the door with something written on it, this time he wanted to ignore whatever his ex-friend's final message was, he needed to eat something and get some sleep.
    He went into the kitchen to make himself a quick meal with the meat he had in the fridge and went upstairs to wash up; he was anxious, but he prioritized being healthy in this respect. He changed and lay down on the bed with the glass with the Rift on it.

Okay, please, let him have dreams about his Muse...

He needed that now, feeling the deafening silence of the hut now.