Archive of Our Own ^beta

It had been a year since Ford disappeared into that fucking machine. For a whole entire year, Stan kept going down to that god forsaken laboratory and try his best to fix that damned thing. He'd searched the whole house trying to find the other two journals and found only a few scattered notes in Pointdexter's painfully perfect handwriting, concerningly also stained with his blood. Armed with only Book 1 and those random, panicked, almost incoherent notes, he'd tried his best to repair the portal that was the source of all his anger.

Stan might've been a highschool dropout and a knucklehead but he had a good understanding of mechanics, he sorta had to given how he'd spent 15 years driving all over the country not able to afford a real mechanic every time his Diablo broke down, so he'd been able to fix up the easiest parts rather quickly but the more complicated bits were leaving him lost. On the plus side, The Murder Hut was doing quite well money-wise so he'd be able to buy new parts if he ever needed them. 

"Hold on for me, Sixer, we're almost there," He talked to the framed photo on the desk. He didn't care if talking to pictures when he was alone made him a weirdo, he was way past caring about anything at this point. 

It was hard to believe Ford had kept pictures of him, even after everything. And yet here it was, in front of him, the tiny sepia image of two rascals just a few days shy of their bar mitzvah playing and laughing on a New Jersey beach inside of a broken, abandoned ship. It always made Stan smile to think that maybe a part of Ford kept this picture because deep down, he still missed his disgraced brother. Maybe, despite all the years of resentment and anger and broken promises... there was still hope for a happy reunion somewhere. 

"Hope you're okay, wherever you are..."

Stan truly had no idea where that portal led. He hoped against all hope it was somewhere with an optometrist, seen as how that four-eyed loser had dropped his damned glasses when he fell and was probably half-blind right now... that's upsetting to think about...

... what if he's hurt... what if he's-

NO

NO, Ford was alive. He had to be. 

He knew that Ford as alive. There was no logical or reasonable explanation, he just did, he felt it in his bones. If Ford was dead, he would've felt it. If Ford had died, Stan would be the first person to know. 

Maybe it was a twin thing? When they were kids they always got sick and recovered at around the same time, but this somehow felt deeper than that. Maybe he was just being delusional, maybe he had killed his brother the minute he set off that fucking thing and hoping otherwise was the definition of insanity...

... but the idea of Ford being dead was too upsetting to even fathom. If Ford was dead, he might as well drive his car off a cliff right now and make the newspaper headlines more accurate. If Ford was dead, this was all pointless and he was being an idiot again, like always. If Ford was dead... no.

No, he had to be alive. Ford had to be alive. Because, if he wasn't, Stan didn't know what he'd do. 

The clock marked 2am and he decided he better go back upstairs if he wanted to be awake enough to do his job tomorrow. Letting out a yan, he got into the elevator and pushed... the wrong button... fuck wait what.

Instead of showing the number 1 like it should, the screen showed the number 2, and the elevator door opened to a room he'd never been to before. Stan turned on the lights and looked around, tired and confused. The room looked almost like an altar to a religious figure, with candles all over and images of a triangle with an eye decorating all of the walls. It reminded Stan a little of their father's odd "Order of the Holy Macarel" memorabilia. Maybe Ford had fallen into a cult? The portal had the same triangular shape with a circle at the center, was the portal a cult thing? 

He found a piece of paper on the ground with a weird poem sort of thing written in a language he didn't know. Was it latin? Fuck if he knew. He squinted and tried to read it, having no idea what it meant or if he as even pronouncing it correctly. 

In the end, he shrugged and decided to go to sleep anyway, whatever this was he didn't have the energy to investigate right now. He went back to the elevator, pushed the correct button this time and went up once again. 

Lucid dreaming was not something that Stan did. He mostly just did normal dreaming... or nightmares, he had a lot of those. But lucid dreaming was something he'd never done before. Everything looked and felt fuzzy and blurry, somehow it felt like the whole world as vibrating all at once, and his senses felt heightened. 

He imagined himself on the beach of New Jersey, because it was a familiar setting. Yet, it wasn't fully the same, the sky was cloudy and gray like before a storm. He looked at the swings they'd always played in when they were kids and noticed that one of them was broken down. Then, he turned and saw a house in the distance... was that The Murder Hut? That shouldn't be here. 

"Stanley Daniel Pines."

A voice behind him startled him and he turned around again. The voice sounded cheerful but it also had a weird echo-like effect that sounded alien and unsettling. In a bright flash of light, he saw the yellow triangle with one eye, the same image that decorated his brother's walls on that weird room in the basement. The thing had skinny arms and legs, a hat and a bowtie. It had no mouth, yet Stan felt like if it had one, it would be smiling menacingly. 

"WOAH!! WHAT?! WHAT ARE YOU?!" The man screamed in confusion and maybe even fear. "W-who are you?! H-how do you know my name?!"

The thing laughed, and its body lit up brighter when it did. "How could I not know your name? Your brother never shuts up about you!"

Stan was getting more confused by the second and he didn't like that feeling. "What? My brother? What are you talking about?"

"Oh, I'm talking about Sixer, obviously," A glowing, six fingered hand appeared above it, burning in bright blue flames. "No one gives a shit about the other one," The six fingered hand disappeared to be replaced by a crying baby, which seemed eerily familiar to Stan. Then, the baby disappeared too. 

"You... you know Stanford?"

"Know him?! I spent every day of the last 2 years talking to that guy! He talks a lot, you know. And that's coming from me!"

"And you still haven't told me what you are," Stan was getting annoyed now. 

"The name's Bill Cipher but I've been known by many names. I am a muse, an inspiration, a g-"

"Oh my god, the knucklehead really did join a cult, didn't he?" Stan laughed hysterically.

The triangle... Bill, apparently... didn't seem happy to be interrupted, his body started glowing red instead of yellow.

"Don't interrupt me! Yes, your brother was a faithful disciple of mine and no-"

"As if this town wasn't weird enough already! Of fucking course Ford joins a cult and the thing he worships is real, of course it is," Stan shook his head. "What? Is the Holy Macarel gonna appear in my dreams, too?" 

"STOP CALLING IT A CULT!!" Bill screamed, really getting angry now. Stan was almost scared for a second but the triangle seemed to take a deep breath and calm himself down again. "Listen, the point is, I know your brother and I know you really want him back so how's about you and I work together?" 

Bill turned himself upside down to resemble the shape of the portal, then spun himself right side up again. 

"You... want to help me fix the portal and bring Ford back?" Stanley squinted, feeling wary of the offer. 

"Exactly!" Bill seemed a lot happier now that the conversation seemed to be going where he wanted it to go. "Let's talk, sit down, have a drink!" 

Bill snapped his fingers in one hand, causing a can of Pitt Cola to appear in Stanley's hand. He then gestured to the half broken swings. 

Stan sat down on the swing that wasn't broken and looked carefully at the Pitt Cola, wondering if it could be poisoned. Could you get poisoned in your dreams? Probably not, right? It wasn't real food, it was imagined food... Then again, it had just been conjured into existence by a thing that claimed to be a god...

Stan had spent enough late nights at bars frequented by shady people to know how to tell if a drink was spiked or not. He opened the can and looked inside, peeking at the contents. After a few seconds, he figured it wasn't dangerous and began drinking. 

It was, in fact, a completely normal can of Pitt Cola. Bill snapped a drink for himself but, instead of growing a mouth to drink with, he drank by closing his eyelid over the can as if his eye doubled as a mouth. 

Ew, gross. 

"Stanley," Bill floated down to be next to Stan, as if he was sitting on the broken swing. "You're a talented guy and I like your charisma but you're obviously having a hard time fixing that thing on your own. I have power and knowledge! I can help you fix it faster and better! And then you and Sixer can be reunited! That sounds cool, right?" 

"Uhuh? And what's in it for you?" Stan raised an eyebrow before taking another swing from the Pitt Cola. 

"Ha! I'd simply be helping out a friend in need but, if you really want to repay me, I'm sure I'll think of some favour you can do for me after."

His eye started glowing in blue fire as he said the word favour and his voice sounded deeper, too, as if to emphasize the word. 

"C'mon, let's make a deal!" 

As he finished the sentence, he extended his free hand as if waiting for Stanley to shake it and the hand lit itself on the same bright blue fire. 

There was a tense, suspenseful silence between the two as Stanley contemplated the situation. Finally, Stan was the one to break the silence. 

"You think I'm stupid?" 

"Uh, what?" Bill seemed taken aback, the fire around his hand turned off. 

"How dumb do ya think I am?" 

Bill laughed again but this time his laugh sounded different, as if he was nervous. "Oh I don't think you're dumb, I never said that! You're very skilled, actually! Heck, you can probably fix that thing on your own but that'd take ages! If you let me help you, I bet we'd have it fixed in just a few months!"

Bill snapped his fingers again and a duplicate of himself appeared at his side.

"Two heads are better than one, right?" They both said in unison before merging back together to just one Bill. 

"You actually think I'm dumb enough to fall for this?" Stan pressed on. 

"Fall for what?" 

"You think I'd actually be thick enough to make a deal with the damn devil?!" 

"Pffft," This time, Bill's laughter was a little more sincere. "I'm not the devil! I'm a friendly creature! C'mon, look at me! Do I look like a devil to you?" 

He made a tiny red demon appear, the stereotypical image of a red guy with horns and a tail. The tiny figure hissed at Stan before banishing. Then, Bill gave himself a golden halo to replace his hat and a pair of white wings, making him look like an angel. 

"Besides, I thought Jewish people didn't believe in the devil!" 

"Yeah, but I also didn't use to believe in sci-fi futuristic portals that suck my brother into who-knows-where, or gnomes, or unicorns... Up until a year ago, I didn't believe any supernatural shit but this town will surprise you." 

Stan smiled, feeling a little cocky. "Besides, you might not look like a traditional demon but you sure as hell look unholy and dangerous to me. I don't know exactly what you want but I know that nothing in life comes for free, you definitely want something from me and I'm not stupid enough to be in debt to you." 

Bill blinked. 

He seemed to be struggling to process what was happening. Stan could guess that this was probably something that hadn't really happened to him before. He was probably used to people making deals with him without question, without doubting it. It must be quite rare for people to say no to a powerful creature offering their deepest wishes. 

Stan is definitely gonna let this get to his head so fast. 

Bill started laughing but not a normal laugh. It was uncontrollable, violent, almost hysterical. Stan was quickly becoming more afraid of him and regretting his decisions. But Stan Pines is nothing if not stubborn and by God, he's gonna double down if he needs to. 

"Listen, kid, you're smarter than I thought. I like the cut of your jib, you've got spunk! But you should know better than to say no to me." 

Bill turned red and green in size until he was the size of a building. Stan's sorroundings were consumed by fire, red fire this time. The heat from the flames was almost unbearable, Stan began to sweat and took off his jacket and dropped it on the ground as he jumped off the swing he'd been sitting on. 

"YOU WON'T LIKE ME WHEN I'M ANGRY!" Bill screamed in a voice that was so distorted it was almost incomprehensible.

"AAAHHH!!" Stan screamed in fear, genuinely convinced that he was gonna die. The heat emanating from the air around him was such that he wished for some way to put out the flames around him and that was when he noticed a new, unopened can of Pitt Cola on his hand. With quick thinking, he shook the can and opened it on the monster's face. 

The bubbling drink frizzled and exploded on Bill's face, specifically hitting him on the eye. Bill closed his eyes and recoiled in pain.

"UGH!! THE EYE!! WHY ALWAYS THE EYE?!"

Stan paused for a moment, did that can of Pitt Cola appeared just cause he thought of it? Will things appear if he just thinks of them? Well, that makes sense for lucid dreaming. This is his head, after all. 

With another concentrated thought, brass knuckles appeared on both of his hands. He smirked and went to punch Bill. 

"Ha! Take that, ugly!" 

Bill groaned, trying to retaliate by throwing beams of energy at his direction but Stan dodged them. Then, Stan came up with a new idea, could he open a portal to get Bill out of his head? 

Thinking about it, he summoned a portal under Bill that began sucking him in. Bill visibly panicked. 

"NONONONO!" 

Suddenly, in a bright light, their entire sorroundings turned completely white. Bill turned yellow again and took a deep breath.

"Okay, I admit, you're stronger than I thought, kid! I'll leave you alone for now, but we will meet again and I can't promise to be as merciful then!"

A circle of weird symbols formed around Bill as he faded away. 

"Remember! The end of the world is coming! Reality is an illusion, the universe is a hologram, buy gold, BYEEEEE!!!"

Stan jumped awake, startled. That dream felt so weird. Was it just a dream? Was it something else?

He put a hand to his quickly beating heart as he tried to calm himself down. 

It didn't matter. He didn't need help from anyone, he was gonna get Ford back by himself. Even if it took him the rest of his life.