For your recent little "brain damage" escapade with Ford -- GET JHESELBRAUM. Like there's something in Ford's stuff that she snuck in there in case he had another emergency like what happened in that 2D dimension he was stuck in and it alerts her that there's something going on and she comes to our dimension and just -- takes Ford and comes back with him later, mostly repaired but with some stutters and he has to use a cane to walk because not all the nerve damage was repaired. (1/2)
okay I’m finally getting to this, sorry for how insanely long it’s been to answer this ask!! I just knew I’d want to ramble ideas, so I’d have to find a good chunk of time to sit down and reply…
But this actually makes a WHOLE heck of a lot of sense??? Jheselbraum has brought Ford back from what was likely the brink of death before- when she rescued him from that 2D dimension. She installed his metal plate. We know she’s immensely capable when it comes to medical care because of that, and it’s probable that she has access to incredibly advanced medical tools. Out of every possibility one could think of to heal Ford of his condition, this is the one that actually makes logical sense according to the extended canon of the show. It’s not a stretch because she’s operated on him before- and she must have been familiar with the human brain to have done so.
Second bit of why it makes so much sense, it WAS the metal plate she installed that incidentally caused Ford’s brain trauma. I believe it was decided that the metal plate conducted the electricity right into Ford’s brain when Bill electrocuted him. No earth hospital is going to have any idea what to do about that metal plate- in fact, I don’t even think they would be able to do any scans with that sucker fused to his skull- but Jheselbraum made it, so she would understand how to work around it.
I also simply really love the idea that Jhessie would be so concerned about Ford’s general well-being (him being the danger magnet that he is) that she would want to be able to keep tabs on him in case his health bit the big one on his way to defeat Bill, or he got really injured. My HC is that she probably stuck a sigil on the plate that would alert her and only her and act as a homing beacon should Ford’s health drop dangerously low. However, I am firm in my opinion that Jheselbraum would have cleared all of this with Ford before she inserted it. She knows what Ford’s been through as a result of Bill and I know she would want to be careful with him in regards of any monitoring. He deserves the right to give consent to anything like that. At that point, I think Ford trusted her enough to give the okay, knowing she truly had his best interests in mind.
But OH MAN I have this vivid picture of a rift tearing open in front of Stan and Ford when Ford’s at his very lowest and they thought they’d exhausted all their options and Jheselbraum stepping forth, surrounded by a pool of shimmering light… Probably gives Stan quite the fright, hehehe. But OH MAN just imagine Jhessie coming to take Ford back to dimension 52 for care, and while Stan doesn’t know who this tall, strangely intimidating, seven eyed lady is he DOES know that she’s safe because Ford looks the most content in her presence than he’s seen him look in a very long time.
Stan allows Ford to go with Jheselbraum, but he also insists on coming along. After the events of the past, there’s no way in hell he’s letting his brother into another dimension again unless he’s right by his side.
Stan’s first exposure to another dimension. A small taste of the kinds of places his brother’s seen in the past thirty years. I wonder what he’d be thinking, as he stepped through the rift at this stranger’s side, gently holding his brother’s hand as he felt the fabric of reality warp around them.
On their third day in dimension 52, Ford’s already doing a bit better. He can move his mouth again. His words are still slightly slurred, and his voice is terribly hoarse from weeks of neglect, but he can speak enough to reply to simple questions and honestly, that’s enough for Ford at that time. The ability to be present in a conversation is a gift in itself.
On the fifth day, Jheselbraum permits Dipper and Mabel to come visit, and picks them up (with Stan in tow) from Piedmont. Let’s just guess it was late at night and their parents were asleep, shall we? Because sadly I don’t think they would be allowed to travel to another dimension with the mysterious space lady and their eccentric great uncle at a moment’s notice otherwise, haha. But yes! Dipper and Mabel see Ford, and get to hug him, and he finds he’s just starting to get feeling back in his hands. Mabel squeezes his hands at one point and he’s able to gently squeeze back.
Ford’s recovery takes a few weeks, but by the end of it he has regained the ability to walk and speak. I really like the idea of him still carrying some repercussions of this brain trauma, though. Especially him using a cane. I can imagine him finding something nice that’s carved wood, and Mabel promptly covering it in stickers and glitter at his request. If one thing’s for sure, his days of extreme physical activity are over. No more vaulting over desks or somersaulting out of danger for him. In that sense, it’s a bittersweet loss. He’ll miss all those lazy days he spent hiking in the Gravity Falls forest for hours… the excursions into the spaceship under the town… But at the same time, that era has passed and gone and he’s simply happy to be alive and functional again.
I do think he’d still have a bit of a stutter after this, too. I mean, this was some damntraumatic brain trauma. He’s probably quite embarrassed about the stutter when he’s around others besides his family, but they go a long ways to reassure him.
There’s a slight numbness in his extremities and stiffness in his joints that never quite goes away, but besides that he’s made a near complete recovery. His family make sure to hug him a lot more now.
Stan dropped the gun, unable to hold it in his shaking hands any longer. It hid the floor with a thunk. Ford slumped over onto his side in a heap, blood still slowly dripping from the gash on his forehead, along with the countless other injuries he had sustained. He did seem to be wrong about one thing - the memory gun did work despite the metal plate in his head. Stan felt tears trickle gently down his face. He’d already lost his brother once due to his own actions, and now Ford was gone again, for good this time.
The huge cross-shaped rift in the sky began to shake and move. The bricks of the Fearamid walls and floor began to drift upwards, being pulled back into the tear in the sky. Stan saw the interdimensional monsters below get pulled upwards as well. The six people trapped inside the tapestries were released, falling to the floor with gentle thumps. The group were slowly lowered to the ground as the Fearamid disassembled, being sucked back into the rift. With a final pop, the rift sealed and the sky changed to a pleasant pale blue colour.
A large, pale blue wave of energy washed out over the whole town. Fires were put out, buildings were repaired and the scaled-up Gompers was returned to his original size. The snarling, living water tower was returned to its rightful place, no longer living. The waterfall no longer flowed upwards into the sky and was no longer a sickly red colour. Everything had returned back to normal.
As the other members of the group returned to their families and friends, Stan, Dipper and Mabel were left in a clearing in the woods. Ford was laid on his side, unconscious. He stirred a little bit, his eyes fluttering open weakly. “Huh…?”
“Great Uncle Ford…?” Dipper took a few steps forward, wringing his hat in his hands nervously. “Are you okay…?”
Ford pushed himself into a sitting position, adjusting his glasses. He noticed the small boy approaching him and his hand immediately flew to his hip, where a blaster usually was. He glanced down and began to panic, realising that he had no weapons on him. He scrambled to his feet and backed away, his hands raised in a defensive position.
Dipper froze. “F-Ford…?”
“Who the hell are you?” Ford spat. He had no idea where he was, what had happened, who these people are or even who he was. All he knew was that being in the company of anything else meant danger. “Get away from me!”
“Ford!” Stan took a step forward, gently pulling Dipper away. “He’s just a kid!”
“I won’t be tricked by your lies!” Ford shouted, taking another step backwards. “What the hell did you do to me? Who’s this ‘Ford’ character?!”
Stan swallowed, his hands trembling and tears stinging his eyes. Oh God. HIs brother didn’t even remember his own name. Everything in his brother’s mind was gone. All that was left were the fight or flight instincts he’d developed while lost in the Portal. Ford didn’t know who anyone was and he likely saw them all, even the kids, as a threat.
Ford growled, his hand still pawing at the imaginary blaster in the holster at his hip. “I said what the hell did you do to me?! Who’s Ford?!”
Stanley swallowed again and took a deep breath. He lifted his hands up slowly, open-palmed, to show that he had no weapons and wasn’t a threat to Ford. “None of us are going to hurt you. We want to help you, okay?”
Ford scoffed. “Yeah right! You’re lying! You want me to trust you! Well, I won’t!” He snapped. The kids recoiled at the venom in their uncle’s voice. “I can’t trust anyone, not after everyone betrayed me.”
An idea lit up at the back of Stan’s mind. “Who betrayed you, Stanford?”
“WHO IS STANFORD?!”
Stanley froze. His immediate reaction was to take a step backwards, but he stayed put. “Stanford - you were betrayed by somebody. Who was it?”
Ford adjusted his posture, keeping his fists raised in defence. “He lied. He said that he would help me, that this was the right thing to do, and he lied.”
“Who lied?” Stan prompted, taking another cautious step forward. “Who lied to you?”
“BILL CIPHER!” Ford screamed. His eyes suddenly went wide and the anger melted away, leaving behind raw terror. His hands clawed at his scalp and tugged his hair. He stumbled backwards up against a tree and slid to the ground. His breath came in quick, shallow puffs. “No no no no he’s trying to get in no I can’t let him no no!” Ford’s nails dug into the skin on his face, leaving red marks. Blood beaded on his face where he broke through to capillaries.
“Ford!” Stan grabbed Ford’s wrists, tugging them away from his brother’s face. He knelt down in front of Ford, holding his wrists tightly. He looked into Ford’s eyes, his voice low and gentle. He knew how vulnerable and terrified Ford was right now, but he couldn’t bear to watch Ford hurt himself like that.
Ford kicked and struggled. “LET GO OF ME LET GO LET GO!” He screamed, fighting and wriggling desperately to get out of Stan’s grip. He clenched his eyes shut tightly.
“Ford please!” Stan pulled Ford forward into a tight embrace. “We’re not going to hurt you. Bill is gone. He won’t get to you. We’re going to help you, okay?”
Ford’s whole body tensed up at the contact. He struggled again, though this time not as violently. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. He was hyperventilating.
The twins stood back. The sight was painful to watch. Ford was acting like a wounded, cornered animal, using the last of its strength to try and get free. Ford saw his brother as a predator, as a threat. Tears ran down the faces of both twins as they watched Stan hold Ford down, trying to prevent Ford hurting either himself or his brother.
Stan ran a hand through Ford’s hair gently. Eventually, he calmed down and slumped forward onto Stan’s shoulder, letting the tears run free. Stan held onto Ford gently, helping him to his feet and leading him back towards the Shack. The twins led the way through the woods. They could hear Ford murmuring questions quietly to his brother. Stan tried to explain things as best he could. He didn’t want to give much information away. He knew how dangerous that could be - giving Ford all the answers would likely lead to more confusion and even possible breakdowns. He had to let Ford discover things on his own.
Ford allowed himself to be led by the strangers through the woods. He looked at the man next to him. “What happened to me?”
The man swallowed as they approached a large, dilapidated house in a clearing up ahead. “It’s a long story…”
I certainly would be interested in this prompt! You are welcome! As with several of the other prompts I’ve received, this has the potential to become a really long multi-chapter fic, but I simply have too much writing to do on top of college work and family stuff. If anyone wants to take this idea and run away with it, be my guest!!
I dunno what happened I dreamed of Bill being in a phone and this happened.
“No Mabel, you don’t understand, it’s been happening every day, couple times a day, sometimes even the middle of the night, for no reason.” Dipper dragged a hand across his face, before pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut. Bags lined under his eyes, the result of many sleepless nights, tossing and turning in bed.
“Oh Dippin’sauce, you’re being melodramatic! Have you been falling asleep watching Paranormal Investigator shows again?” she questioned jovially. Dipper huffed, irritated.
“That has nothing to do with what’s happening! It does this weird robotic voice thing, and it says creepy, really specific things to me. Like it knows who I am. I think it’s a stalker or something.”
“oookay, I think you need to get out of the house more,” Mabel informed him, nudging her brother. “Cooping yourself up here is making you catch crazy.”
Just as Dipper was about to protest, the familiar sound of his phone ringing interrupted them. They both went quiet, Mabel raising a brow at her brother’s hesitancy. Dipper stared straight at her, maintaining eye contact as his slipped his phone out of his pocket. Accepting the call, he immediately put it on speaker phone before speaking.
“H-Hello?” His voice was shaky with nerves as he talked. Nothing for one long second, the crackling of what sounded like faint static emanating from the other end. Just as he was about to hang up, a shrill A.I. voice rang out, high-pitched and irritating.
“HI THERE KID, COULDN’T HELP BUT NOTICE YOU WERE TALKING ABOUT ME. I’M FLATTERED. HEY. HEY KID. IF I COULD REARRANGE THE ALPHABET I’D PUT U AND I TOGETH-” click.
~Spanish translations at the bottom - from Google translate again (sorry :/ ~
“Hey, nerd!” Stan shouted through the door. “Dinner’s ready! You coming or not?!”
He waited a few moments for a reply but got nothing. He knocked on the door again. “Hey Poindexter, you in there?” Stan turned the handle and opened the door. He half expected to find Ford passed out on the couch, but the room was empty. Stan frowned.
“Grunkle Stan, come on!” Mabel’s voice called from the kitchen. “The pizza’s getting cold!”
“Just coming, pumpkin!” Stan called back. He walked back down the hall and sat back down at the kitchen table. He glanced over at his nephew. “Hey Dipper, you haven’t seen Ford around recently, have you?”
Dipper frowned, halfway through a slice of pepperoni pizza. He swallowed. “Not since earlier, why?”
“I can’t find him. He shouldn’t be down in the lab since business hours just finished and we both agreed not to use the lab during the day since it’d draw attention. Where was he when you saw him last?”
“He was going outside to get rid of some guys who were hanging around outside. They were smoking and harassing the customers. I didn’t see him come back in. That was just after lunchtime.” Dipper finished off his slice of pizza and reached for another.
Stan swallowed. “What did those guys look like?”
“One of them had an eyepatch and like a really long moustache. The other had a really flat nose like a pug. They were both speaking Spanish by the sounds of things.” Dipper replied, trying to remember what the two men looked like. “I can’t really remember that well, I wasn’t paying much attention. Great Uncle Ford went out to get rid of them. I never saw him come back in, which was weird since I was in the gift shop like all afternoon.”
Stan felt his blood run cold. He swallowed hard. “They sound like my old prison inmates. They must have done something with Ford.”
“By the way,” Mabel piped up. “I found this letter on the back doorstep a minute ago.” She passed over an unopened envelope, with some rather scrawled writing on it. Stan recognised the name on the front - “‘8-ball’ Alcatraz” - to be one of the fake names he had used over his decade of being homeless. Heart racing, Stan tore the envelope open.
A crumpled piece of paper fell onto his lap. He read the note with shaking hands.
“Hemos tomado algo suyo. Si alguna vez quieres verlo vivo otra vez, nos das lo que queremos. Tienes veinticuatro horas para cumplir. Si lo quieres vivo, no llames a la policía. - R + J”
“What does it say?” Mabel stood up on the chair, leaning over the table. “What language is that?”
Stan took a shuddering breath. “It’s Spanish. It’s Rico and Jorge alright. It says…” His voice cracked with a mixture of fear and anger.
“Says what, Grunkle Stan?” Dipper asked quietly.
“They’ve taken Ford. They’re… they’re gonna kill him in twenty-four hours if they don’t get what they want - money. A lot of it.”
“We gotta call the cops!” Mabel exclaimed.
“No!” Stan blurted out. “It says… it says they’ll kill him if we phone the police. I can’t make that risk!”
Dipper swallowed, his own hands beginning to shake. He looked at the envelope. Something else was sticking out of it. It looked like a photograph. “Grunkle Stan? There’s a photo…”
Stan reached for the photo with shaking hands. He pulled it out of the envelope and held it up. He let out a yell and dropped the photo face-up onto the floor. He jolted backwards away from it as if it had burned his hand. The twins scrambled down from their chairs and grabbed the photo before Stan could snatch it back. Mabel let out a cry and Dipper gasped, covering his mouth.
In the photo was a picture of Ford. He was tied up to a chair tightly. The twins noticed that the rope holding him down was bloodied and his wrists and ankles were badly scraped. Ford was gagged by a strip of cloth tied over his mouth and around the back of his head. Blood ran down his face from a gash on his forehead. He was slumped over in the chair, unconscious. His turtleneck was missing, showing numerous fresh bruises and cuts across his arms and chest. The barrel of a shotgun was pressed against Ford’s forehead, being held by a figure out of view of the camera.
“We have to do something!” Mabel cried. “There must be something we can do to get him back!”
“I can’t…” Stan murmured. “If I show up without the money, they’ll kill both of us. If I don’t show up, they’ll kill Ford and try again to get to me. If I give them the money, they’ll most likely kill both of us anyway.”
“How much do they want…?”
“Well, years ago I ruined a heist for them and cost them half a million dollars, so it’d be a safe assumption they want at least that amount, probably more.” Stan put his head in his hands. The pizza sat on the table forgotten.
“Can you tell where they are based on this photo?” Dipper asked. He passed the photograph back to his uncle. “Anything in there that looks familiar?”
Stan scanned over the photo with his eyes. “No, there’s nothing there that I recognise. The photo is too dark.”
“Well can’t we go search the town to find him?” Mabel asked.
“We can’t sweetheart. We have no idea where he is. Even if we do find him, I can’t show up without the money, but there’s no way I have that sort of cash! I spent a load of it fixing the Shack up and rebuilding that portal. I’ve barely got a few thousand, let alone half a million!” Stan ran a hand through his hair. “I just don’t know what to do.”
Dipper frowned. He put a hand on his chin and paced around the room. “We don’t have the money, but we can’t show up without it or they’ll kill Ford. We can’t call the cops or they’ll kill Ford.” He groaned. “This isn’t good. Does Ford have any friends from when he was in the portal that we could ask for help?”
Stan shook his head. “No. Even if he did, how would we contact them? The portal’s shut and like Hell, we’d even have a clue of where they were.”
Dipper rifled through Ford’s third journal. He’d found them lying in the woods two days after Weirdmageddon. Apparently, they had been restored after Bill was gone, just like all the damage to the town. A small folded photograph fell out of one page. He picked it up and opened it.
“What’s that?” Stan looked over the boy’s shoulder at the photo.
In the photograph was Ford. He was grinning, his arm looked loosely around the waist of a taller man. The man had wild pale blue hair and seemed incredibly thin, his arm around Ford’s shoulders. They both looked drunk, each holding a bottle of alcohol in their hands. The taller man was wearing a pale blue sweater, a white lab coat and brown pants. They were both grinning at the camera. Dipper turned the photo over. On the back was a phone number and contact instructions, along with a name.
“Rick Sanchez…” Stan murmured. “Ford might have mentioned him once or twice. Said he was a good friend.
“Maybe he can help us get Ford back,” Dipper said. “It says we need to use something called a “transdimensional communicator,” he said, peering at Ford’s writing. Below was a small diagram of the device. “I’ve seen that before! It’s downstairs in the lab!”
“Well go and get it!” Stan pointed in the direction of the hallway. Dipper rushed through to the gift shop and disappeared behind the vending machine.
“Do you really think this Sanchez guy can help us find Ford?” Mabel asked quietly a minute later, fiddling with the sleeve of her sweater.
“I don’t know…” Stan sighed as Dipper returned with the device. “But we have to try.”
“Hemos tomado algo suyo. Si alguna vez quieres verlo vivo otra vez, nos das lo que queremos. Tienes veinticuatro horas para cumplir. Si lo quieres vivo, no llames a la policía. - R + J” - “We have taken something of yours. If you ever want to see him alive again, you will give us what we want. You have twenty-four hours to comply. If you want him alive, do not call the police.”
Hi again! I was think that the only reason people wanted Ford and Dipper to be mad at Mabel about the rift is because they were mad at her themselves. But i might be wrong....
I think you’re absolutely right. I’ve felt the same way watching shows or reading books sometimes; if only this action by character X were treated as wrong by the narrative, I wouldn’t mind it, but the narrative doesn’t seem to know it’s wrong, or seems to think it’s right.
But Mabel simply isn’t culpable in the rift situation; I even think that, despite being completely uninformed about the significance of the rift, she would probably have been smart enough to question the offer if she hadn’t, at the time, also been extremely scared. Bill caught her at a moment when she found herself drowning and was willing to grab hold of anything. I think that we can sometimes forget what a frightening time the transition from childhood to the teen years really is. If someone had offered me a time bubble around that point I wouldn’t have said no.