Chapter Text
Headlights were the first thing Stanley saw as he came aware. He had to stop himself from crashing his Diablo as his body seized - All of his muscles freezing up and his head jolting forward like a volleyball had slammed him directly at the base of the neck. The whole experience taking less than a second, but that is all a car needs to cause problems on the road.
The deafening sound of screeching tires, the muffled noise of drivers screaming, and at least four car horns certainly didn't help him get his head on straight, but he had just enough wherewithal to turn himself off the road and onto the dusty sands of the highway shoulder. Good enough. All the noises stopped as the other cars began to accelerate past him.
Breathing like he'd just run a mile in cement shoes, Stanley gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles were white, both of his feet on the break petal as if the car needed all his weight to stay in place. His entire body felt wrong -felt incorrect, at least for a moment before his breathing began to slow it's hyperventilating-adjacent pace. His head hit the top of the steering wheel and he took a quick second to shift the car into park without lifting up his forehead.
"Hurg… Dam-Dang- No, damn. Definitely damn" he muttered, trying to find any solid words or even just a sound in his head that added up to something substantial. When he couldn't, he pulled his head up and stared at his Diablo's odometer.
160,615 miles. He'd gotten to 160,000 while gallivanting through southern California. He would hit 170,000 a month before he'd gotten that post card - he remembered that: It was in 1982 and he'd rewarded the car with a deep clean. It hadn't lasted, but he'd tried.
But that wasn't important. The fact that he was thinking about these things in the past tense despite it being the present meant that it had worked. He'd made it.
The weight of what had just happened seemed to wire his jaw shut. He really did it. He said yes to that deal.
Deal. He almost wanted to laugh. That hadn't been a deal. It had been an ultimatum; a choice-less choice. One where all the other party had to do was modify a single condition, and they'd agreed to it. They said yes to a situation that wasn't even a guaranteed win, and with no real way to cheat around it. They'd done that, and all for a chance at something.
Oh Right. It wasn't "Me"; it was "They". Another word that felt funny, but helped him to clear his head further. Right, it was "Them", and the other person wasn't here.
Full awareness struck him, and he promptly shifted the car back into gear and peeled back onto the dimly lit highway. He checked the time on his dashboard, hoping he'd actually changed the time zones this time. it was 4:45 AM. He might be awake…
Payphone. He needed to find a payphone. Now.
Stanford wakes up on the couch in his study as if struck by a manic bout of inspiration- No, no, that wasn't right. It was more like he'd been punched in the stomach. That was more apt, given how breathless he was.
He adjusted his glasses, and took stock of the room. Messy, but not in a "just before" or "just after" the portal way. His notes and books were stacked, at least, in as neat of piles as he cared to try. And perhaps the most telling detail, was that he could hear Fiddleford - his friend, dear Fiddleford McGucket - finishing up a call on the kitchen's corded phone with Emma-Mae in the kitchen through the thin walls.
He'd done it. He'd taken the deal with the Axolotl, with the Time Baby.
No, it hadn't just been him. He hadn't been alone.
Was it worth it? For this?
Stanford stood up, feeling nearly lightheaded at the quick action, and noted the lack of dull pain radiating from his knee. Small victories.
He tried to see if there were any solid signs as to when exactly he was. He knew it was early in the year, possibly February? But he'd never been good at keeping a calendar - But then he overheard Fiddleford answer the phone.
"Howdy!" The mechanic greeted someone. "McGucket here! If y'r callin' f'r Doct'r Pines - Wh!! Hey Now! No need t'be so rude…. Emergency?? Wait - Y're Stanley??"
Ford rushed out of the study and into the kitchen, practically prying the phone from his friend's hands without so much as a "hello"
"Stanley?? Stanley, is that you??"
There was fuzz on the other end of the line, before Stanford got his answer "Yeah, Stanford. It's me… We made it. Just like that yelle-brawn or whoever said we would"
"Jheselbraum" Ford corrected, before adding "She is a friend"
"Well, that's nice for you, but I came to on a highway and almost crashed"
"Oh! Are you alright?"
"Didn't know you cared"
"Wh-Stanley!" Ford huffed "We don't' have time for this. While Bill is still a threat, our immediate priority must be-"
"Findin' the kids" Stan finished "Damn straight"
"Okay, good. Where are you?"
"Los Angeles outer limits - headed south, at least when I came to" Stan replied "I was just talkin' to McGucket. Gonna tell him?"
"I have to - He will help"
"Fine. This is our timeline anyway - We can fuck it up how we want" Ford can't stop a weak puff of a laugh before Stan continues "Alright, so that Jellaboom-"
"Jheselbraum"
"-Gesundheit. Anyway, she said that we'd know who'd been dropped closest to us, right? Like, she'd let us know in our subconscious or whatever"
"She did say that, yes"
"Okay… Who's comin' to mind for you?"
"Mabel" Ford answered, almost surprised at his lack of hesitation
"Good. I'm thinkin' of Dipper" Stan confirmed "I'll call you this time tomorrow or once I find him. Whatever comes first"
"Alright. I'll try to be by the phone, but I'll get the answering machine set up in case I'm following a lead on Mabel"
"Sounds as good a plan as any, Six. I'll call you then. I'm runnin' outta time and quarters"
"Of course" Stanford paused "Good luck, and stay safe, Lee"
".. You too, Six. See yah soon" And the dial tone played in the older twins ear.
There was a moment of silence before a bewildered Fiddleford spoke up "Stanf'rd? What in the good Lord's name above was all that about? Who's Mabel?"
Ford exhaled, hanging up the phone "You're going to want to sit down for this, Fiddleford" he warned "I don't have much time to explain, but I trust you implicitly, so I am asking that you hear me out"
Though clearly skeptical, Fiddleford sat down in one of the metal chairs at the dining table, and looked at Stanford expectantly "You've sprung a lotta wild things on me, Ford. Le's see if this really is as crazy as you say" There was something almost akin to a smile there, and it filled Stanford with a certain relief. He took a seat across from him.
Stanford leaned forward on the table, and stared directly at his friend, expression as serious as he dared "I will try to sum it up in less than 200 words. Are you prepared?"
Fiddleford nervously nodded
"I am a variant of myself who was returned to the past from over 30 years into the future, when an apocalyptic event that I helped cause happens, and my entire family is killed. Due to me falling into my own portal, Stanley took over my home while you had created a cult dedicated to your memory erasing gun. When I returned I did all I could to stop this apocalypse from happening, but it was not enough. I had only just met my great niece and nephew and they were taken from me. Stanley and I were given a chance to prevent all of this by being given an entirely new timeline to fix the mistakes of the past, and we managed to convince the greater beings to let us bring our niece and nephew with us despite the two of them being anomalous to the time stream. Right now, I have essentially possessed my past self, as has Stanley, and our first priority is finding Dipper and Mabel. After they are found and safe, I will need your assistance to dismantle the portal, as well as to defeat the extra-dimensional being I have foolishly let into my mind." He took in a breath, "Done"
"… 200 hundred words exactly" Fiddleford felt the need to point out, but his expression didn't change "… I have.. a lot of questions" he continued "But… You said some kid's need help?"
"Yes. From what limited information I have, Mabel is here, in Gravity Falls or the surrounding town limits. I need to find her, now" Stanford's expression steeled "Dipper - Mason, is his first name - is in the vicinity of Stanley, and while I trust him with very little, I know he will do unspeakable things for these children. While I have not known them for nearly as long, I am inclined to feel the same. They endeared themselves to me very quickly"
"Well… I can get the full story from yah later- What can I do now?"
Fiddleford's extended hand - metaphorically - was very welcome, and Stanford stood up "Begin the dismantling of the portal. If I cannot find a lead on Mabel, I will return and explain things in further detail to you"
Fiddleford nodded "Got it. I'll get m'tools and head down"
"Thank you, friend" Ford graciously said as he put on his coat, and began to make his way to the front door.
Fiddleford called out after him as the door was closing "Don' go thankin' me yet, Ford - We ain't even got to the hard part yet!"