Remembering The Lost (Stan and Ford Pines)

Ford couldn’t hope to describe the utter feeling of loss, his gut coiling every time Stan looked right through him. Bill was defeated, he was gone but so was Stanley, so was any chance they could have ever hoped to reconcile. It had been weeks, and while Stanley was regaining memories of the twins, Soos, Wendy, and all the townsfolk, not once did Stan ever look at him without the same question now burned into his mind.

”Who are you?”

Even with all the optimism of the children Ford was losing hope, fading more and more into the background as Stan reunited with those he loved and remembered. It was getting to the point Ford was slipping back into his alcoholism, a habit he had picked up after no longer having his twin there to help calm him during school, only growing stronger with his work in Gravity Falls. Once the kids left Stanford thought it best to remain in the basement, trying to distract himself with work and research, unaware of his brother’s curiosity with the man he shared a face with.

“Uh…hello?” The room this strange elevator opened in was dark, his voice echoing around the rocky cavern as Stan took a few steps forward. What was once the control room now being a second library, books scattered about a large couch that seemed to double as a bed, sheets crumpled on the ground under even more books and papers. The clatter of a glass bottle against stone caught his attention, Stan slowly walking further in and peering into the large cavern he felt had once contained something great, but now was bare save for a few scattered projects lying about in various states of build. However his eyes landed on the spread out male in one corner of the room, some glasses tossed a few feet away besides some empty whiskey bottles. It was clear he had been drinking for some time, blue eyes unfocused as another bottle was raised to chapped lips, hand slightly trembling when it finally registered he wasn’t alone, a cough escaping him when some of the alcohol went down wrong.

“Geeze…you really shouldn’t be drinkin’ that much.” Stan said hesitantly, making his way over to the man who seemed unconcerned, taking another big sip before the bottle was forcibly taken away.

“N-Not like you…care.” Ford muttered, lazily watching as Stan picked up his glasses and wiped some dust off of them. “You don’t even know me…”

“Well that don’t mean I don’t care.” He grumbled, sitting beside the drunk man who looked away with an angry sigh.

“Give me the whiskey Stan…gonna ask only once…” The man slurred, his voice taking on a strong Jersey accent as he reached for the bottle just out of reach.

“No, ain’t happenin’.” He shook his head, reacting like lightning when Ford drunkenly tried to launch himself forward, only to end up being pinned to the ground. “Just give up already.”

“I have…” Stan blinked at the soft sob that escaped the man below him, leaning forward to see tears staining the ground a darker grey.

“Given up on what?”

“On getting my brother back.” Ford hiccupped, more tears escaping him as he lay his head on the stone in defeat. “I’m so so sorry…I just want my brother back…” Stan winced as Ford began to full on sob, his cries echoing around the cavern as he pleaded with Stan to remember him. “I just want you back…I’m so sorry for not believing you…I miss you so much Stan…please don’t make me die alone…please…”

”Come on Stan, don’t leave me here alone!” A young Stanford Pines begged, some tears slipping down his cheeks in the dark cave his brother had left him in as a joke, little arms wrapping around him at the strange sounds echoing around him.

“I promised I wouldn’t Sixer!” Ford let out a scream as his brother appeared suddenly in front of him, a flashlight in hand and a grin on his face. “I would never do that!”

Stan nearly recoiled at the sudden memory that hit him like a punch to the face, shaking his head as he glanced at the man pinned beneath him.

“S-Sixer?” The word was more of a question, but went unnoticed as Ford tried to weakly struggle his way free. “W-Wait…”


“Stan let me go! You win!” A teenaged Ford begged, having gotten pinned under a cockily grinning Stan during boxing practice, annoyed his brother was more concerned at making eyes at his girlfriend nearby. “You’re choking me…”

“Oh geeze, sorry!” Stan laughed, releasing his brother who glared, big glasses slipping down his nose only to make Stan laugh.

“Just let me go!” Ford hissed, his voice wavering as he succeeded in being freed from under his temporarily startled brother, grabbing the bottle with a glare at the ground beneath him.

“Sixer stop!” Ford paused mid-swig, reddened eyes wide as he looked over at Stanley with disbelief.

“W-What did ya say?” He asked, Jersey accent back again as he stumbled in place, the world swirling around him.

“I said stop it now.” Stan said more firmly, taking a step close as Ford wavered dangerously in place, bottle crashing into pieces on the floor when it slipped from Ford’s slack fingers.


“Stop hurting him!” Stan looked up in shock from the kitchen floor, ten-year old Ford glaring up at his drunken father, arms outstretched protectively. “Don’t hurt Stanley, he didn’t mean it!”

“GET OUT OF MY WAY STANFORD!” Their father roared, Stan wincing when a hard slap sent Ford onto the floor beside him, left hand landing on the broken glass from the beer bottle his father had thrown at him.

“Sixer just listen to me…” Stan began cautiously, Ford looking confused and elated as it dawned on him when Stan was saying. “Come here, we’ll go on up and I’ll get ya nice and warm.”

“St…Stanley? Is that you?” Ford’s voice cracked, tears slipping from his eyes once again as Stanley nodded, slipping an arm around his brother’s waist to steady him as they began to walk/wobble towards the elevator.

“Well I’ve always been me...but yea poindexter…I think I’m back for good.” He nodded, grunting slightly when Ford sagged against him in the elevator, Ford looking a bit pale when they entered the shop area of the Mystery Shack. Stan managed to get the drunk male to the nearby bathroom before Ford vomited out most of the liquor in his stomach, the younger twin waiting while other memories began to surface as he tended to Ford. He remembered days they conned their mother into getting sick days, times of exploring the beach that felt more like home when they found their pet project, tense hours of sneaking back home after going to watch a late-night movie their parents would have forbidden them to see. He also remembered the fable science project that had torn them apart, face falling as he helped Ford to the couch and set about removing his shoes, coat and various holsters, his brother seemingly having dozed off as he did so.

“Ford?” He called softly, gently shaking his brothers shoulder until bleary reddened eyes looked at him, the man smiling sadly. “I shoulda told you about your project…”

“I…shoulda forgiven ya…” Ford slurred back in his accent, the man pausing before weakly tugging Stanley into a hug. “M sorry…”

“I know Sixer…I’m sorry too.” He whispered back, releasing Ford only when he felt the other go slack, having fallen asleep in the warmth and comfort from a hug long overdue. Sighing with a slight smile Stan settled into his chair, flipping the TV onto The Duchess Approves as he settled in for the long haul, checking to see if Ford was sleeping peacefully every so often. When morning came, Ford felt as if he had been punched in the head repeatedly, groaning as he came to while rubbing his temples. He really should eat before drinking, Stan wouldn’t be too…Stan…

“About time.” Ford blinked tiredly, a plate of food being placed on his lap while a cup of coffee was placed in his outstretched hand. “Now eat, you probably feel like crap right about now.”

“Stan?” He rasped, coughing a bit as he took a generous sip of the warm liquid in his hand, the sugar coating his tongue making him sigh appreciatively.

“You remember any of last night?”

“I…remember drinking…and I remember breaking my whiskey bottle…” He furrowed his brows as he tried to remember more, Stan smirking slightly when his eyes suddenly went wide. “Y…You remember me…”

“A bit yea…I’m still gettin’ more stuff, but ya know.” He shrugged, Ford’s heart nearly beating from his ribcage as elation shot through him at the sheer recognition Stan hand while staring at him. Stan raised an eyebrow when Ford placed his plate and cup down on top of the dinosaur head, but his confusion turned to amusement when Ford hugged him tightly, almost toppling them both over had Stan not anchored himself. “Geeze, careful there.”

“I apologize, I am just so so so happy right now you cannot even begin to comprehend.” He muttered into Stan’s shoulder, his body slightly shaking as he took in the fact Stan remembered him after so long.

“I think I can poindexter…I think I can.” Stan sighed with a bit of a smile, hugging Ford as close as he possibly could. “I missed ya too.”