#addiford

Dipper found himself within his own dream, fully aware like he and Mabel discovered not too long after coming back home. He gazes upon the world he created for himself in his dreams: orderly, filled with many creatures he’s come to learn of within a forest, and town nearby. The sky was cloudy and there was a breeze. Dipper takes a walk on the brick road he created towards the town when suddenly, a colorful pastel door poofs into existence and out comes Mabel and Waddles. 

“Dipper!” Mabel exclaimed and her pig squealed in delight. “Took you long enough to get to sleep.”

Dipper laughed with ease to see his sister, making his dream brighter as the clouds disappeared. He opened up about what was on his mind.

“I was talking to Grunkle Stan before bed. I miss him and everyone in Gravity Falls. The memory lapses, and Bill’s power. We’re more fully aware within our dreams than we’ve ever been and can manipulate and enter other dreams too, I bet. Something we haven’t tried. Yet..” Mabel listens to her brother and thinks. Instead of trying to distract him like she would have before, she expresses her own feelings. 

“I know exactly what you mean. I miss them too and these powers, like Uncle Maurice warned us about, are pretty cool when used the right way.” Mabel makes a family photo appear out of thin air. 

It had everyone in the large family present in the photo: James and Jessie, Stan and Carla’s grown twin children. Tara Grayson-Pines, James’ wife and mother of their own children, Cormac, and the triplets Arya, Aria and Anais. Lilian Prescott and Maurice Pierce-Pines, Jessie’s wife and husband and parents of their three children Tanya (who is expecting a child of her own), Stanley Junior and Tyrone. 

Then there’s Shauna, Shannon and Shifty, Ford and Adeline’s own grown children where the latter had been adopted long ago. 

“Yeah.” Dipper sighed sadly while looking at the picture and he got a bright idea. “You thinking what I’m thinking, Mabel?”

“We should totally use our powers to traverse distance and enter the dreams of our friends and family?” Mabel paused and showed her bright grin. “Heck yeah!” Neither knew if it would be alright to just appear in their loved one’s dreams, but they won’t know unless they try. 

Dipper and Mabel together manifested a door to appear before them. The twins held hands as they entered through the door together with Waddles in tow, closing upon the three entering. They enter what appears to be a central hub within a cosmic landscape containing many, many doors -- unique to each and every person -- that lead to a multitude of people and animals' dreams. The twins have their mouths agape in wonder of it all. Dipper, Mabel and Waddle’s feet were no longer touching the ground as they simply floated within the space. 

They almost didn’t know where to start. 

“So many doors!” Mabel’s voice echoed, making her giggle. “It would take an eternity to open them all.” Dipper gave his sister a telling look that she shouldn’t do it. “Which is something we don’t have!”

Dipper created a console with his mind before him and his sister and pet pig with the intent to make searching for their family member’s dreams less of a hassle. He touches the sphere of the imaginary machine and inputs the names of each person into the memory. Then suddenly, he felt a jolt of shock run through his head that made the console turn staticy. Mabel felt it too as she held her head. 

“Ah!” Dipper groans. “There’s… there’s someone I’m forgetting!”

“Me too!” 

Waddles, being quick to act, used his pig brain to create the scrapbook from nothing with his mind from memory, squealing and showing it to the twins with his hooves turning the pages for them. Dipper and Mabel squinted at the image of the whole family gathered, voices echoing in their minds that told them of each one; starting with the older and young adults and then to the teens and a young child. Stan; Ford; Adeline; Carla; Jimmy; James; Jessie; Shauna; Shannon; Tara; Lillian; Maurice; Spriggs; Tanya; Cormac; Stan Junior; Arya; Aria; Anais; Tyrone; Isaac; and finally Quincy. 

Seeing all their faces and names in the picture, it brought back memories of all the adventures they had together. For better or for worse. Their adventures with their Grunkles and Graunties, learning the deep and dark secrets of their family members, and how they all became closer through the best and worst moments of that summer. It hurts that Dipper and Mabel were looking at the picture not too long ago, only for their mind to have blanked their memory. They’ll never get used to this. 

It brought a sense of relief to the twins as they started to remember everything again. Dipper finishes the process of making the doors of each family member appear before them; each door is unique and set apart from one another that reflects the person they belong to. Dipper and Mabel didn’t hesitate to start from the oldest members to the youngest members of the family. 

The first dream Dipper and Mabel and Waddles enter within their montage of dream-hopping is Stan’s. Stan dreams of the adventure at sea with his brother, wife and sister-in-law onboard the old Stan O’ War; they'll soon get to go on. Stan fights sea monsters, pirates, and singing shanties no matter how bad his singing was. Dipper and Mabel were pleased with what they were watching and got them excited to see more, but they had to move on to the other dreams and left through a door they created. Stan took notice. 

In the next dream, that being Ford’s, and the twins and pig watch to see Ford dreaming that he ended Bill before Dipper and Mabel could make the deal with him. It brought some unpleasant memories in the twin’s minds so they quickly left as soon as they came. Ford, too, took notice of Dipper and Mabel’s departure, presuming to him that it means Bill’s power has begun to manifest within them. 

Dipper and Mabel move on to their grauntie Carla’s dream where she is in a field of white and purple flowers with the sun in the horizon still in a permanent sunset, creating a lilac sky above. The twins find their grauntie sitting on a red and white blanket surveying the land before her. Carla appeared younger with her wrinkles nowhere to be found on her face, her gray hair back to its original brunette, and a flower in her hair. Then suddenly, a younger version of Stan appears, in a red suit and tie, his own brown hair in a mullet fashion, and a bright smile on his face. It endeared the twins while watching Carla interact with the dream version of her husband. And then, Carla and Stan began to age until they appeared as they do in the real world. Dipper and Mabel found it time to leave and move on to another dream. 

The twins and pig find themselves in Adeline’s dream. The scene depicts a forest on a summer’s day with the sun shining through the trees. There was a noticeable amount of deer that grazed on the grass and stags butting heads against each other. Dipper tries to look for his aunt, but he sees that familiar blonde doe nearby who was utterly frightened and running away from the yellow demon triangle that cackles madly. This is a nightmare. Dipper and Mabel exchange looks, knowing what they felt to do was right, and fly to catch up to the triangle and Adeline. Dipper and Mabel punch the triangle together and put an end to him tormenting their grauntie. The twins and Waddles leave quickly before Adeline has the chance to approach them as she returns to her human self. 

Dipper and Mabel and Waddles enter inside the dreams of their uncle, James Pines. The twins and pig watch him appear to be comforting a younger version of himself after pulling him out of the Bottomless Pit, looking no more than ten, and tending to the wound on his arm that will leave a mark. James reassures himself that things will get better for him. Something James needed to tell himself time and time again. Healing is not a straight road. Witnessing this made Dipper and Mabel feel relieved it wasn’t a nightmare, but a healing dream. They take their leave for their next dream. 

Jessie was fighting her own demons within her dreams. Dipper and Mabel watch their aunt fighting against a shadowy manifestation of Thistle Downe in his ragged siren form. But Jessie wasn’t so much as fighting and showing that boastful confidence she often gave off, but running away from him in fear within the setting of the Woodstick Festival at night and no one but her, Thistle, and the twins and pig present. Dipper and Mabel knew they had to do something for her, too. Mabel makes two axes appear before Jessie on the stage and Dipper warns his aunt to get them and gives her morale in encouraging her to be much stronger than him. It gave Jessie enough motivation to run up to her axes, raise them high, and charge at her nightmare, cutting him in two. But before Jessie could thank the twins, they vanished. 

Inside Tara’s dream, the twins and Waddles immediately witness Tara herself running across a vast distance within the woods in pursuit of an elk in her wolf form with red fur. Tara was getting closer and closer to her target. Mabel verbally encourages her aunt to keep going, but realizing she spoke, she covers her mouth. Tara reaches her goal and a bright light flashes, Dipper and Mabel’s cue she was waking up. The three take their leave to the next dream. 

Within Lillian’s dream, Dipper and Mabel and Waddles find themselves on a highway on a moonlit night. And driving on that endless highway was Lillian riding on a polished white Harley wearing a pink helmet, having the time of her life, driving with no destination in mind. It was just Lillian and her train of thought wandering with not one obstacle coming into view. Seeing they were not needed, Dipper, Mabel and Waddles take their leave. 

Dipper, Mabel and Waddles enter inside Maurice’s dream, finding it wasn’t like the other dreams and nightmares of the others they entered through thus far. It was the living room of the house he shares with his wives and sons. Maurice himself, a tall man with long blond hair, bushy beard and orange eyes was watching tv on the sofa. He turns and faces the twins and Waddles with a welcoming smile on his face.

“Oh hey, kids!” Maurice waved at them. “I see you figured out the dreamscape.”

“Sure have, Uncle Maurice!” Mabel took a seat next to him. “We’ve been missing you guys so we thought to see you all in your dreams.”

“We’ve only been going in their dreams, no one else's.” Dipper joined his sister and pig on the sofa.

“Good.” Maurice turned off the tv to give them his undivided attention. “I’ve been watching how their dreams have been playing out from here without interfering. I’m no dream demon, but I can see other people’s dreams of my choosing from within my own dreams. And I’ve seen what you have been doing.” Dipper and Mabel frowned, believing they were in trouble for it. 

“We were trying to fix the ones with nightmares. Is that bad?” Mabel asked. 

“I don’t think so, but I’d be careful. What happens to you in the dream will affect you in real life, too. People’s nightmares can get pretty nasty. It’s not your job to try to fix anyone’s dreams. You two deserve a break.” Maurice lets out a sigh as he can’t stop them. “But I know you guys will want to try all the same.”

“We don’t like seeing them go through those terrible things.”

“No one does. It’s up to you what you want to do.”

Dipper and Mabel nod at each other and get up from the sofa. 

“Thanks for having us here,” says Dipper, keeping in mind what he said. 

“It’s all good. Stay safe in the dreamscape.”

“We’ll keep that in mind,” Mabel smiled as her, Dipper and Waddles take their leave.

Within Spriggs’ dreams, Spriggs himself was flying across the forest as a fairy on a sunny day, resembling a Spanish moon moth in terms of the colors of his wings. Spriggs was carrying a piece of metal with gloved hands as he brought it to what appeared to be a metallic gateway of alien nature. Spriggs was engrossed in his work to not notice the twins and Waddles nearby behind the pine trees in working on his project. Dipper was interested in where it would lead. Soon enough, Spriggs finished and turned on the gateway and shines a great blue light upon activation. Spriggs flutters into it as if compelled to. But before he could enter it, Dipper, Mabel and Waddles see everything turn white and fading, a familiar occurrence when they were in Stan and Ford’s dreamscape all those months ago. 

Dipper, Mabel and Waddles couldn’t get into Shauna’s door when it faded away from their view. It was telling she must have woken up that got Spriggs, her husband, to wake up as well. They hoped she was okay as they entered into their aunt Shannon’s dream. 

Shannon’s dream was a spectacle. Dipper, Mabel and Waddles found themselves at a night club full of colorful lights, upbeat music, and familiar faces that danced on the floor or mingled at the bar. At the center stage, Shannon was the center of everyone’s attention as she danced with what appeared to be her boyfriend Clyde. She seemed happy and in her element. Mabel was digging the music and dancing with Waddles. Dipper, too, nodded his head to the beat of the music. But it didn’t last long with Dipper focusing back on the rest of the dreams he wanted to visit before the night ended. He tugged Mabel’s sweater, taking her out of the groove and followed him as did Waddles.

The next dream is Shifty’s. Shifty dream involved himself exploring a vibrant field of an array of colors Dipper, Mabel and Waddle have never seen in their world. Trees that stretch towards the red-orange sky with a blue sun shining above them. Definitely not of their world. Was it a genetic memory? Much of Shifty’s origins still remains a mystery. It is unlikely Shifty himself will ever know, but these kinds of dreams leave him to wonder what could have happened all the same. There wasn’t much the twins and pig could do but take their leave. 

Within Tate’s dream, he was fishing out in the middle of Gravity Falls Lake. Everything was quiet, save for the ambient sounds of nature around him and the light breeze on a sunny day. The perfect day to fish. But he wasn’t alone as his adoptive son Isaac was fishing with him without a care. They waited for something to happen, but nothing of significance. It was just a pleasant time without disturbance. They couldn’t blame him for desiring this after everything that happened. Dipper, Mabel and Waddles leave the dream on a positive note. 

Tanya’s dream was another story. Tanya, an intersex young woman with long blonde hair and partially toned skin, faces across from her a huge wolf with piercing yellow eyes and black as night fur. It was a face off. Dipper and Mabel knew better than to interfere in this as Waddles cowered behind Mabel, shaking in fear. They watch Tanya approach the wolf slowly. She was afraid, but she had to face it. Something unique to her since her lycanthropy awakened and began throwing her off her composure. On top of being pregnant at that.

“Okay, bud. This is how we’re going to do this.” Tanya stares down the wolf who gave her his undivided attention. “This body is my own. I don’t want you to do anything that could harm me and my child, or any children I have after. We share control of it. Got it?” The wolf narrows his eyes before he gives a snort as if agreeing with her. “Heh. Simple as that.”

Seeing as Tanya has it handled, Dipper and Mabel leave along with Waddles.

Within Stanley Junior’s dream, it was much more vibrant and quiet as if they were in a painting themselves of an open field next to a lake on a bright sunny day with little clouds in the sky. It didn’t take long for the twins and Waddles to find the sixteen year old boy who resembled much like his grandpa Stan as a teen, with the exception that his brown hair reaches to his shoulders and a full beard on his face he let grow out. Junior was painting a picture on a canvas of Dipper and Mabel and Waddles, having felt their presence the second they entered his dream.

“Oh! Hey Dips! Mabs! And Waddles, too.” Junior turns to face the trio with a smile on his face. “Dad told me to anticipate a visit from you guys.”

“Junior, your dream looks so pretty,” complimented Mabel. 

“Why thank you. Ever since, um, you know, I became more aware within my dreams and can make it whatever I want it to be, for the most part.” Junior makes the finishing touches of the painting, showing it to them when he turns the canvas around for them to see. “What do you think?”

“Awesome!”

“You captured our likeness!”

“Thanks!”

“We’ll be heading off here to see Ty’s dream, now, before our alarm wakes us up,” said Dipper. 

“No problem! It was nice seeing you again. It’s only been a week and we all miss you guys.” 

“We missed you, too, Junior!”

Dipper and Mabel waved goodbye to Junior as they left for Ty’s dream next. 

Inside Ty’s dream, the tall black boy with blue eyes, plays a white violin before a crowd of anonymous people with his right arm intact. Ty wearing a clean black suit and shoes. The melody on the strings was sorrowful and contemplative. Tears were shedding from his eyes when he concluded his song. On the final note, Ty let lightning strike him in a great flash of light, but he was unharmed and appeared renewed by the electrical energy brought upon him and his being. 

Ty was aware of Dipper and Mabel’s presence and walks up to them, his right arm fading away as he greets them with a small wave of his left hand. “Uh, hey, guys. Did you like the performance?”

The twins nod, showing sad smiles in making a quick glance at his missing arm. 

“We loved it!”

“It was electrifying!”

This made Ty laugh a little. “I’m glad to see you two and Waddles again. We all miss you back home.”

“We missed you and everyone, too, Ty.” Mabel smiled. 

Dipper couldn’t beat around the bush about it any longer. “Ty. How are you holding up without your arm?”

Ty glanced at where his arm was and showed a small smile. “I… I think I’ll be okay. Just not right now. Carrie and Fiddleford are helping me build a better prosthetic. Which is good since they’re hella expensive, normally, even with health insurance.”

“Hope it works out. Let us know how it goes.” Dipper and Mabel take their leave with Waddles and wave goodbye to their cousin. 

Within Cormac’s dream, the albino werewolf, with a long scar across his nose, was running across a grassy plain with no destination in mind on a full moon night in the middle of nowhere. It reminded the twins of Lillian’s dream. But this time, Cormac does come across a pack of wolves he joins. Cormac and the wolves howled together that sounded melodic and it seemed to carry a long distance. It was as if he and the others were singing. Dipper and Mabel leave the dream pleased with what they’ve seen. 

Within Arya, Aria and Anais’ dreams, more often than not, share the same dreams. No one knows why this is, but their strong bond could be a factor. This dream was no different tonight. The teenage werewolf triplets were enjoying themselves at the lake, a similar scene Dipper and Mabel saw before when they were saving the girls from their nightmare induced by the mares. A recurring dream. Arya was hesitant to go into the lake water, but Aria and Anais take each hand and all go together, reassuring their sister she’ll never be alone. Dipper and Mabel get closer to the end of their adventure. Only two more left. 

Inside Isaac’s dream, the teenage boy with long golden hair was looking at his reflection in the mirror. Despite having said he wanted to accept the image he was born with, he hated the possibility of looking like his biological father Preston Northwest, a man he’ll never call his father after all the horrible things he committed. A face he is ashamed of looking at. He missed what he used to look like, before the raccoon shapeshifter lifted the spell she placed on him as a baby to look like someone else. A complicated situation for not only Isaac, but for the family he was raised in. Isaac placed his forehead on the mirror and sighed. Dipper and Mabel walk up to him to share some reassuring words. 

“Hey, man, it’s gonna be okay.”

“No matter what you look like, you’ll always be you, Isaac. No one can take that away from you.”

Isaac lifted up his head to face himself again and brightly smiled at Dipper and Mabel. “Yeah. That’s right. I’ll try to keep that in mind. Just needed a reminder.”

With that seemingly settled, Dipper and Mabel and Waddles travel to one last dream. 

Quincy, the young boy of age seven, was having himself a good dream in playing with his friends he made during the fateful summer. Dani, Jack, Kylie, Jill, Gus and Sebastian, kids around the same age as him and unique in many ways. The boy in the green shirt sprouted full green butterfly wings to fly without a care in the world, and all his friends flying with him in his pleasant dream where the sun shines bright in the sky over a flowery field in perpetual spring time. Dipper and Mabel marvel at the dream being shown, and Waddles takes delight in eating some flowers. 

Dipper smiles and lets out a sigh of content.

“I think this is a good dream to leave off on.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other --”

The sound of their alarms rang that cues their adventure’s end in the dreamscape.

--------------------------------------------------------

Dipper, Mabel and Waddles awoke from their adventurous slumber, greeted by the sun that begins a new day. It was thankfully Saturday and they’re in no rush to get dressed yet. 

Dipper and Mabel’s cell phones, however, became the first thing they had to address as they started to ring and ring in addition to text messages from their family members. It was going to take a bit of time to answer them all. 

But there was one question they had on their mind: how was Shauna doing? Shauna, Shannon’s fraternal twin sister, having woken up before Dipper and Mabel could enter her dream. The twins imagine Shauna not having been well after what happened during Weirdmageddon, having been tortured alongside her siblings and parents by Bill before she and everyone else in Gravity Falls were rescued. In addition, residual trauma in her teens at the hands of Bill, or from scenarios unrelated when it had to do with her college friends and their adventures. 

The first call they answer is from Ford. 

“Kids!” Ford began. “Do you two have any idea what you’ve done?” He didn’t sound angry at the slightest, more so astounded by what the twins accomplished. 

“Enter your dreams and everyone else in the family; save for our parents and grandpa?” answered Dipper while scratching his head. 

“Yes! Kids, with this power, you have to be careful how you use it.” Ford paused to form his thoughts before saying. “Like Bill, I imagine you both would be more vulnerable in the dream and mindscape while visiting each person. If you get hurt in there, you get hurt in real life. I’m thrilled about this and… concerned, not going to lie.”

“Yeah, we get that. We talked to Maurice in his dream and we’re going to be careful with this power. We didn’t enter anyone else’s dreams besides you guys. We missed you.” Mabel replied while sitting next to Dipper in joining the conversation. 

“Good, good. We all miss you, too. Looking forward to seeing you both during the holiday breaks.”

“The only dream we didn’t get to enter is Aunt Shauna’s. Is she going to be okay?”

The twins hear an audible sigh on the other end and a heavy pause until Adeline’s voice could be heard on the other end. 

“After what happened to Shauna and Shannon’s eyes years ago, it was so traumatizing to Shauna she was having night terrors and couldn’t sleep at all. There’s reason to believe it’s happening again because of what Bill did to us. To put it short, he hurt us in more ways than one.” There was another pause. Adeline collected her composure to bring up the unpleasant topic. “Please don’t feel you have to fix everyone’s dreams like you did with mine and likely others. You and Mabel have already done so much. We know how to handle this with Shauna. Rest assured, she will be okay, even if not right now.”

Dipper and Mabel exchange concerned expressions and Mabel was the one to respond. “Okay, Grauntie Addi. Keep us updated, okay?”

Sacramento, California (USA)    ∆

Addi sped into the public bathroom, head down, eyes furtively whipping around to check that it was empty. There were a couple of women in the changing rooms, but other than that there was no one around. Good. She dumped her bag on the floor, closing her eyes and breathing more evenly. When she was ready, she opened them and looked at her bloody reflection in the mirror.

Huh. It wasn’t as bad as she’d thought it would be.

“First aid kit,” she muttered, rooting through the bag. If she’d been able to muster up any emotion other than stress, fear, and grief, she would have been proud to say she’d given as good as she’d got. Better, even.

Two people had been waiting for her in the elevator, which she really should have expected. She’d been in close proximity to a Cipher Wheel agent for almost twenty-four hours, so of course there would have been others converging on her.

Addi ran her hands under the cold water of the tap, rinsing off the blood on her hands and washing out the cuts and scrapes on her knuckles. They hadn’t been expecting her fists, or in fact, anything about the fight she had given them.

One had still gotten in a lucky shot, though. Addi winced as she wiped her nose. It wasn’t broken. She’d managed to avoid that – by turning her head. Now she could see a lovely bruise forming on her cheekbone.

The elevator had been too close-quarters for weapons to be drawn properly. Addi had managed to kick – literally – both of them out the doors when they opened on the next floor, adding a strained leg muscle to her injuries, and another cracked rib to each of theirs. They’d gotten distracted by an incoming call on their earpieces, Addi had hit the button to close the doors as fast as she could, and the last she had seen was them sprinting towards the stairwell. She’d stopped the elevator right before the lobby and taken a back exit at a sprint.

And that was that.

Her expression crumpled and she started sobbing. Just as quickly, she stifled the sounds and lifted her eyes to the ceiling, grasping the edges of the sink tightly until she was back in control, taking in one, two deep breaths.

It didn’t fit, none of it fit. Ford had been trying to get to Oracle Division through her; he had been biding his time. He had repeatedly said – truthfully, she could tell – that he cared about her, as well as told her that he wouldn’t hurt her. He had said that Cipher Wheel agents were completely solitary. And yet, despite all of this, two had casually watched as she got into the elevator with them, waited for the doors to close, and then begun their attack. There was no mistaking that they had been after her.

So what? Spies lied. That’s what they did. That’s what she did.

That’s not what Ford did. At least, not with her. He avoided questions, he gave half-truths, he pretended he hadn’t heard, or he accidentally let something slip, but he had never lied to her. Quite apart from anything else, she would have known if he had.

So why was nothing lining up anymore?

There was something that she wasn’t seeing.

Addi shook her head, wiped her nose – not due to blood this time – and quickly checked another bruise on her ribs. If she let her thoughts overcome her again, she’d be crying on the bathroom floor and of no use to anyone. More pressingly, if she spared any more time thinking about this, the agents would catch up to her.

She was being hunted. She needed to get somewhere safe.

∆

To be fair, Stan did wake up feeling much better: the stinging in his shoulder had died down uncannily. However, considering that Ford had drugged him in the first place, he ignored that.

He lurched up in the passenger seat of the Stanmobile. Traffic passed by the driver’s window, pedestrians walked past on the pavement, the entrances of the surrounding apartments all remained empty, and same deal with the other parked cars: nothing suspicious at all.

Stan scrambled out of the car, looking wildly around. No sign of Ford.

“Holy-”

He couldn’t even find the words. Settling for dragging his hands through his hair, he kept his eyes fruitlessly on the side walk, turning his head frequently out of a desperate need to be proved wrong.

Please tell me he didn’t leave again, please let him not have disappeared, not again, not again.

At least those agents hadn’t found him (Stan, that was. Who knew what could have happened to his idiotic, freaked out, unnecessarily protective, supposedly-intelligent-actually-massively-moronic brother?). Well, hadn’t found him yet, to be more accurate. It might have only been ten minutes, and Ford wouldn’t have – he hoped – left him lying unconscious and defenceless unless he was sure Stan would be safe, but they could still catch up to him, and next time they’d be expecting him.

Cursing, Stan went around to the other side of the car and opened the door. Starting the engine and pulling out of the space did not provide nearly enough distraction from his thoughts.

Okay, so, it was obvious Ford wasn’t working for Cipher, judging by the expression on the snappily dressed man’s face which Stan wasn’t ashamed to admit was pants-wettingly terrifying. And that was another thing: had he really just come face-to-face with Bill Cipher? Something left him with no doubt that the answer was oh yeah buddy. You better watch out.

Ford’s not working for Cipher anymore, Stan corrected, wincing. He had a feeling that was going to be a sticking point when he broke the news to Carla.

Speaking of Carla, that’s where he should head.

Although, the Stanmobile had been sitting in that parking spot for almost a day, and if someone had had time to give him a ticket (which was now flapping annoyingly in the wind against his windscreen), it was definitely possible that it could have been noticed by other Cipher Wheel agents. Someone might even be following him right now.

He twisted in his seat, looking over his shoulder, daring someone to be weaving in and out of the rhythms of traffic after him. No one was. They might be being subtle though. He grimaced.

One thing he could be sure of was that he wasn’t being tracked. If Ford had thought the car was safe, then that was good enough for Stan. So, he would drive around the city for a while, making sure he wasn’t being followed, and then he’d head to the FBI field office.

All he had to do until then was pay attention, watch the road, and not panic about Ford.

The traffic lights ahead turned red. He waited.

He tapped his fingers on the wheel. He tapped his foot on the floor. He cracked his knuckles. He breathed through his nose. He gripped the steering wheel and slammed his forehead on the horn, blasting it loudly enough to make the driver in front jump in their seat.

“Moses, Ford, where are you?!” He yelled.

∆

Safety be damned. If Addi was calling him, Fiddleford was going to answer.

“Addi! Are ya alright? What happened? Why weren’t you answering yer phone? Why’re you in Sacramento?”

He unleashed the torrent of questions while simultaneously struggling to put the phone on speaker, position it somewhere it wouldn’t fall and be lost in the depths of the car, and change gears as he rounded a corner.

“Don’t worry, I’m fi- I’m not dead,” Fiddleford had never been so glad to hear his partner’s voice, but her small stumble in that sentence did not go unnoticed. He would have pressed the point, demanding to know exactly what was going on, what had happened to her, but more pressing things were at hand, such as Addi’s safety. Her next words only reinforced the urgency of the situation.

“I got an assignment yesterday that I had to be in Sacramento for – an assassination,”

“What?!”

“Oh, it’s wonderful! Would you mind if I tried it on? Thaaaank yooouuu- Oh what’s that?!”

Some heavy breaths came through the phone, and it took a moment for Fiddleford to figure out that Addi had been talking to, and then taking something and running away from, someone else. She was covering or switching out her clothes.

Which meant someone was on her tail.

“Yeah, only Jheselbraum didn’t okay it with me,” she continued as if nothing had happened.

“Well, Ah’d say so. That is not the way she runs things,”

“Thankfully I never went through with it. But the thing is, it was the superiors who gave it to me,”

There was no need to elaborate. Fiddleford’s face went slack and even though his phone was probably one of the most secure devices on the planet, he didn’t trust himself to voice the obvious.

Stanford Pines had been running all over the world building a memory device for Bill Cipher that could give him almost limitless power and influence, enabling him to do anything that he wanted. Fiddleford couldn’t contact Jheselbraum, Oracle Division, or anyone in Manhattan. Addi had been ordered to assassinate someone, presumably as part of some sort of set-up. So many things had come to a head recently, and it was clear what the conclusion to this latest one was.

The superiors were corrupt.

Oracle Division was compromised.

As of now, the Cipher Wheel was coming after them.

“Where are ya?”

“On the – oh, here, let me hold your hat while you get that picture, no really, it’s fine, don’t worry – on the move,”

“Y’Haven’t been able ta get a hold of the director, have ya?”

“No. Everything’s been dead since last night,”

“Same situation here,”

“Hello sir, I’m sorry, would it, um, would it be okay if I read the blurb of your book? I’ve just been interested for such a long time and – aw, thank you very mu- oh my gosh, did you see that? Just over there, look, look!”

More quick breaths, accompanied by running footsteps if Fiddleford listened closely.

“Was that really necessary?” He asked exasperatedly.

“If that guy has Cipher Wheel agents on his tail, he’s welcome to come take it back,” his friend’s grim reply came. “Please tell me you have somewhere safe we can meet?”

Paranoia gripped him even as he replied. What if someone was listening? What if his phone had been hacked?

“Sacramento FBI field office. Ask fer Senior Special Agent McCorkle. Ah’ll be there soon,”

Too late to worry about that now. His friend needed an extraction, and this was the best he could give her.

“Got it. And Fidds? If they’ve found me . . . watch out for yourself, too,”

He hadn’t considered that.

Fiddleford swallowed, attempting to work some moisture back into his suddenly dry mouth. “Stay safe, Addi,”

“Yeah. You too,”

Hearing her voice waver slightly, he cut the connection.

∆

Carla stared at her computer, open-mouthed.

“As you can see, the entirety of Manhattan appears to be experiencing a massive power failure, unlike anything seen before. Reports indicated that from approximately seven o’clock last night sections of the city began to systematically experience blackouts until ten o’clock, at which time the entire island was engulfed in darkness. All attempts to restore power have so far failed, and it is speculated that this is due to a series of modified electromagnetic pulses, or EMPs. If so, who set them, and why target Manhattan?

“Next up: do you wish you had more ways to waste electricity? Why not invest in-”

Carla turned the news report off, mind reeling with questions and suspicion. It was just her jumpiness because of the news about Ford, right? This event wasn’t necessarily linked to her case, it could be a completely separate incident, couldn’t it? What was she thinking: this had nothing to do with how she had tracked one of Jheselbraum’s phone calls once and had seen that it came from Manhattan. It was totally different to how Manhattan was probably where Oracle Division’s base of operations was located. It wasn’t involved whatsoever with the fact that the most effective way to start taking Oracle Division out of the game would be to cut it off from everything else. And the fact that the person who would have the most to gain by doing that, as well as the person who would have the means to, was Bill Cipher.

Her office door clicked opened, Fiddleford hurrying in and shutting it hastily behind himself. He shushed her before she said anything, keeping to the edge of the office until he reached the blinds. Then, as if they were going to bite him, he carefully drew them over the window. Immediately afterwards he turned to the nearest of her shelves and began feeling behind the files.

“I’ve already done a bug sweep,” Carla said.

“And ya haven’t left yer office at all since?”

“No,”

Fiddleford looked relieved.

“What’s with the blinds?” she asked.

The relief vanished, to be replaced by graveness.

“We think Oracle Division’s bin compromised,”

“I knew it!” Carla exclaimed, making him jump. “Sorry.” Her eyes widened as she realised the implications. “Oh, that’s bad. What do we do now?”

“Someone’s after m’partner, so I’ve told her to come here; it’s about the only safe place we have left. We can compare what we know, go from there.” Fiddleford said decisively. “No one can know we’re here, not ‘til we know who’s on our side.” He gave her another serious look.

“This is a lot.” Carla said, raking her hands through her hair as she got up to walk around. “All of a sudden Ford’s a bad guy, Jheselbraum and Oracle Division are out of the loop, freaking Manhattan is down, and the Cipher Wheel’s coming after y-” She froze.

“What is it?”

“The mole.” She looked at Fiddleford in horror. “We haven’t dealt with the agent spying on me yet.” Carla’s eyes widened and she made for the door. “You have to get out, tell your partner to meet somewhere else-”

“Bad idea; if I wasn’t made on th’way in, I could be on the way out.” Fiddleford was obviously thinking quickly, but it seemed like he had no alternatives. “Besides, this’s still the safest place around where we can talk.”

“So we just have to hope nothing bad will happen?” Carla said in disbelief. Most definitely not to her satisfaction, Fiddleford nodded reluctantly.

“Well that’s gone great so far,” she said bitterly.

∆

“Just wait over there please, ma’am,” the receptionist politely instructed Addi. She nodded in response, taking a seat while they made a call.

Tensely, she waited.

A building full of FBI agents, and any one of them could be Cipher’s.

This is a nightmare, she reflected, pulling her stolen hat lower over her face while huddling in her swiped coat and focusing intently on her snatched book as more employees came in. Yeah, what a way to not look suspicious.

Every second that ticked by wound her tighter, and it would not take a lot to make her release all that tension and fly for the exit. The receptionist was speaking into the phone now, but Addi was too far away to hear what they were saying. The phone was replaced and the seconds kept ticking by. What if they were the mole? What if they’d alerted more agents? What if the Cipher Wheel had seized control of the FBI, had put her and Fiddleford on a wanted list, made them fugitives before they could even begin to process what was hap-

“Miss Martin, thank you for meeting me today,”

Addi lurched to her feet, automatically going to bolt for the door. Making as though to pass off the movement as a shaking out of her limbs, she turned to her addresser.

“Carla McCorkle.” The Latina woman with a flower in her hair introduced herself before adding, “Fergus MacIntyre will be pleased to know you’ve arrived.”

“R-Right. Thank you,” Addi said. She didn’t untense, but she did manage to accompany Agent McCorkle to the elevator with only minimal jerkiness.

The FBI agent was about as stressed as her, which went a long way towards convincing Addi that she could trust her. Clearly Fiddleford had already filled her in on the situation, and she was taking it very seriously.

Attempting to keep up appearances, Carla asked, “How are you?”

Addi actually had to stop, speechless, staring helplessly. Carla looked back at her, pressing the button for the elevator.

“You too, huh?” she sighed.

∆

Once they were inside Carla’s office, Addi was immediately enveloped in a tight hug from Fiddleford.

“Yer not dead!” He exclaimed.

“That’s certainly something,” Addi agreed in a muffled voice.

“Yer not fine, either,” he added more quietly. After a moment, Addi agreed to that too.

“We’ll talk about it,” Fiddleford promised.

“Only if it’s to do with the current crisis,” Carla stepped in with an apologetic tinge to her words. “We really need to sort that out.”

Fiddleford gave Addi a pat on the back, pulling out of the embrace. Partially glad for the opportunity to avoid the discussion, and partially not, Addi got her head back in order.

“Sorry. Things’ve been kinda stressful lately,” Fiddleford said matter-of-factly.

“No, it’s understandable. You’re talking to the girl who’s every move has been scrutinised for two weeks,” Carla smiled tiredly.

“No idea who the spy might be?” asked Addi, feeling herself drift back into the rhythm of work.

“Either everyone or no one,” was the dry response. “I even thought my flower was bugged for a while.” She gestured at the one in her hair.

“Is that why it’s missing a few petals?”

“My interrogation was brutal but thorough,” grinned Carla, a little livelier this time. Addi’s mouth twitched as well.

“Fiddleford, you said we should put together what we know?” the FBI agent continued.

“Yeah, yer right,”

Addi took a breath, thinking about where to start. “Well, I guess . . . Bergamo then?”

“Bergamo,” Fiddleford agreed.

“We had a mission to steal Dr Hansen’s latest invention, a material called shimmern. Our superiors-” Addi shivered a little – “wanted to weaponise it, which Dr Hansen wasn’t inclined to do,”

“Yeah, I think I know what happened.” Carla said, frowning and nodding along. “I read an Interpol report on your encounter there with Ford. Plus I made him tell me about it.”

“Ya most certainly are a force ta be reckoned with,” Fiddleford said, impressed.

“Huh. I guess my description did get through to them,” mused Addi.

“It was taken down not long after. Cipher’s work, I imagine,” Carla added.

“Oh,”

“Well from there we had several more encounters with Stanford. All o’ them highly suspicious and improbable,” Fiddleford continued.

“Ford said he wasn’t tracking us, none of it was planned. I think he was telling the truth,” Addi informed him.

“When did ya talk to him?” Fiddleford asked immediately, concerned.

Addi’s heart started beating faster, but Carla brought them determinedly back on course before she could answer.

“What was he doing, if he wasn’t tracking you?”

“Buildin’ something.” Fiddleford paused, seeming reluctant to go on. After a moment, Addi had to prompt him.

“Fidds?” She said gently. “You’re the only one who knows about this bit.”

Her friend cleared his throat, clearing an expression from his face moments before he looked back up at them.

Was that guilt? Why would he feel guilty?

“He – ah, he was buildin’ a weapon. He called it a memory gun. Said it extracted memories from whoever it was used on an’ let others see ‘em,”

Carla was dead quiet. “He was going to give Bill Cipher a mind-wiping device? To just use? On anyone?”

Addi thought it hadn’t been possible to feel worse about starting to fall for – she closed her eyes and corrected. To feel worse about – just about Ford, but it turned out that she was wrong. Yet again.

“That idiot.” Carla said with surprising vehemence. “I swear, I’ve known that man since high school and he hasn’t changed a bit.” Despite her coarse words, there was an undercurrent of distress and worry in them.

“This is unbelievably dangerous,” Addi said.

Fiddleford looked shifty for a moment but nodded his concurrence eventually. “’Specially when he said that it could turn ya to stone if it went wrong,”

“It could what?”

“Ford, you idiot,” Carla groaned again.

The door opened and shut so quickly there was barely enough time for the intruder to enter. Everyone jumped and reached for their weapons.

“Did someone just say Ford’s an idiot? Because you’re right,” Stan said emphatically, moving to join their gathering.

Fiddleford and Carla relaxed again, but Addi frowned. Something was occurring to her.

“Stan, what the heck?! Where did you go?” Carla berated, hugging him tightly.

“Went to see Ford,”

Something not good at all.

Carla glared at him. “And why couldn’t I come with you?”

“Because I wanted to see what was up with him before you and your handcuffs and law got there,” Stan said, like it was obvious.

“So did you find him? What happened? What’d he say?” said Fiddleford.

Addi reached for her gun again. Stan saw her.

“Uh, whoa, you aren’t thinking of-”

She drew it and aimed at him.

“Yep, guess you are,” he finished in dismay.

“Addi, what’re you doing?!” Exclaimed Fiddleford.

“Put the gun down now!” Ordered Carla.

Addi’s jaw dropped in disbelief. “Am I really the only person who sees this?” Based on everyone’s expressions, yes, she was. “He’s been helping Ford this whole time! He’s a Cipher Wheel agent too!”

“Oh crap. No, Addi, listen-” Stan, hands raised, trying to placate her while looking very uneasy.

Fiddleford, frantic, waving his arms as if to signal her to stop as well. “Addi, no he doesn’t, he works for the FBI-”

“With the FBI,” corrected Stan and Carla together, automatically.

“And isn’t there a mole in the FBI?” Addi said, speaking directly to Carla.

She went to reply. Then hesitated.

“Carla, come on!” Stan said, nervousness colouring his voice.

“Fiddleford, arrest him,” Addi said to her partner. He looked shocked.

“What? No!”

“Fine. Agent McCorkle, do you have handcuffs?”

Carla seemed to snap back to the present. “No! None I’m giving to you, anyway. I trust Stan,” she said fiercely.

“Addi listen to me, Stan does not work for Cipher, he’s our friend,” Fiddleford protested.

“Well that didn’t stop Ford did it?! He wasn’t supposed to hurt us either and look how that turned out!”

“For Christ’s sake, put the gun down an’ listen to me Addi!”

She didn’t.

“Anything you try with him, you’ll have to do to me first,” Carla said, stepping in front of Stan with the immovability of a steel wall.

Not that that was going to stop Stan from trying, apparently.

“Carla, get out of the way! Are you crazy?” Stan was definitely starting to sweat as he tried to push his fiancée out of the gun’s line of sight, and Addi’s steady hand wavered. There was no way she was going to shoot anyone here, but if they thought she might then she still had some control, and things were rapidly spiralling out of that and why couldn’t they just see?

Both Stan’s and Carla’s gazes were fixated on her as they each started trying to push the other behind them, ending up in a tense grappling match that in another situation might have been funny but here it in no way was.

“Addi, I swear I wouldn’t double-cross you like that!” Stan said desperately. “Don’t you remember Russia? I was right there next to you the whole time!”

“Well Ford came to rescue us – and he didn’t have any trouble betraying me later!”

“He didn’t! He didn’t betray you! At least, I don’t think so,”

“What?” Carla momentarily paused her struggle in her confusion.

Addi shook her head furiously, turning back to Fiddleford, dimly noticing that her sight was getting blurry.

“And you think I’m not making sense?” she said disbelievingly.

Fiddleford tore his own stunned stare off Stan and Addi could see him scrambling to get his thoughts in order to try to calm the situation down.

“Addi, Stan was away from the FBI for two weeks, makin’ things difficult for us! He couldn’t’ve been spyin’ on Carla too,”

“That’s right!” Stan agreed vehemently.

Addi gritted her teeth and shook her head, vision getting even blurrier. It – it made sense . . . but no, she couldn’t take that chance, not again, it was too risky. What if he was wrong? What if it all went wrong again?

“Addi, Ah promise, we can trust him,”

“I don’t know who to trust anymore!” she burst out, feeling a warm dampness on one of her cheeks.

Fiddleford was lost for words for a moment. Recovering, he said sorrowfully, “He’s not Ford, Addi. Looks a heck of a lot like him, but he’s not,”

“Agent Marks – Adeline – please. I know what it’s like to be so paranoid and scared you don’t what to do, but you aren’t alone,” Carla implored into the quiet.

Fiddleford crossed unimposingly over to her with an expression like he knew what to do again, how to ameliorate the situation. He held out his hand, keeping her focus on him.

Addi’s sight was momentarily overcome by prickling warmth again. Her friend reassuringly patted her shoulder as she passed over the weapon with a breath. The room seemed to sigh.

Stan and Carla relaxed the holds they had on each other.

“I, uh, here Addi, just, sit down for a while. You could use it,” Stan said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck as he made for Carla’s desk to retrieve the seat in front of it. Addi heard a muttered jeez as he went, but figured he was probably within his rights to that.

∆

Carla glared pointedly at him and he surrendered, going over to get Addi a chair. From his perspective it was understandable that he wasn’t too eager to get near the person who had just threatened him – his heart was still vigorously thumping – but at least Fiddleford had her gun now. She wouldn’t be –

Oh, she definitely wouldn’t be doing that again. As soon as Stan had manoeuvred the chair over to her, Addi slumped into it and he got his first good, clear-headed look at her since entering the room. She looked utterly exhausted, battered and bruised in not just a physical way.

He turned his gaze to Fiddleford, speaking to her and rubbing her back, who looked significantly better but that wasn’t saying much. What the heck had happened? This couldn’t just be because of Ford could it? Well – he glanced at Addi – there was probably a lot to do with him on that front, but he wasn’t going to touch those issues with a ten-foot pole.

Carla exchanged a sympathetic look with him, and explained in an undertone, “The Cipher Wheel more than likely knows who they are, and we’ve been cut off from Oracle Division,”

“What’s Oracle Division?” Stan said blankly.

To his irritation, Carla’s jaw dropped.

“Hey, it’s not like I’m a super-secret spy like the rest of you apparently are, am I?” he huffed. “You might not have noticed, but that means none of you, Ford included, are all that open to me about your super-secret spy stuff,”

“Right, right, yeah.” Carla rubbed her forehead. “Adeline and Fiddleford work for Oracle Division, which is, like, the Cipher Wheel’s arch-enemy. Ultraman and Alex Aluthor style.”

“Wouldn’t the Cipher Wheel be Oracle Division’s arch-enemy? Usually the bad guy’s the arch-enemy,”

“I think they’re probably each other’s arch-enemies,”

“Makes sense. Who are we, then?”

“You can be the damsel in distress,” sniggered Carla.

“What?! Well you’re the useless police chief,”

“Oi!” She poked him in the stomach. Stan surrendered.

He didn’t want to ask this, but he went ahead anyway. Pulling that band-aid off quickly was probably best.

“You didn’t really think I was a mole, did you?”

Carla turned to him quickly, concern in her eyes – which immediately reformed into a flat stare.

“My stress levels have been constantly high since all this began, Stan, and they’ve only gotten more so since I learned that apparently I’ve been under surveillance for who knows how long. I think a second-long paranoid slip-up can be forgiven,”

“You’ve been under surveillance?!” Stan said, voice rising well above their previously hushed tones. I swear, if I ever get my hands on whatever little cretin’s been SPYING on MY GIRL –

Carla winced. “You didn’t know that either?”

“No!”

“Well, I am,” she sighed. Then she stepped closer to him and said seriously, taking his face in her hands, “But I do trust you. I promise,”

“Really?” He had to make sure.

“I’m marrying you, aren’t I?” She grinned.

At that, a flicker of the excitement he’d felt last night returned to him. “Yeah, you are,” he said, a little giddily.

Fiddleford had finished convincing Addi that she was safe. Jeez, things must be so much worse than Stan was getting if that was necessary. Fiddleford stood up from his crouch in front of Addi, and Addi lifted her head out of her hands.

“I’m so sorry Stan,” she said, a harrowed expression on her face.

It really shouldn’t be that easy to get back in his good graces.

“Hey, it’s not like you’re the only person to have ever pulled a gun on me and accused me of treachery.” He dismissed. “And you only wanted to arrest me.”

“Stan, did Ah here ya right before? You don’t think Ford betrayed us?” Fiddleford asked.

“Yeah, how do you figure that?” Carla frowned. “He’s definitely a Cipher Wheel agent.”

“Yeah, he definitely-” he faltered – “was.”

The significance was not lost on anyone.

“Was?” repeated Addi in a low voice.

“Well, he wasn’t when we had to fight our way out of the building. The place was crawling with Cipher Wheel agents, and none of them were acting friendly towards us,”

Carla was the first to start putting it together. “He tried to leave.” She whistled. “Bet that didn’t go over well.”

“I’ve got a bullet wound that says it didn’t,” Stan agreed vehemently, gesturing at his shoulder. Great. Now that he was thinking about it, it was hurting again.

“Damn it!” shouted Addi. “Why did I leave? Why the heck did I leave? Regardless of whose side he was on, I should have still brought him in! Arrested him! What was I thinking?” She demanded of the room at large. Uncomfortably, Stan noticed that she had furious tears brimming in her eyes again. As soon as she felt them she dashed them away.

“Addi-” Started Fiddleford, going to rest a hand on her shoulder. She shook him off.

“I knew something wasn’t adding up, I knew it, and I didn’t listen!” She raged. “And then I – I left!” She shot to her feet, pacing agitatedly, wiping her eyes again, clenching and unclenching her fists. It looked like she’d forgotten she wasn’t alone. Stan didn’t think it mattered to her either way. Then what she’d said caught up to him.

She was there with Ford?

Fiddleford and Carla both looked just as surprised at that, so it didn’t seem as though he’d been left out of the loop on this, luckily.

Did he feel happy that Ford had finally gotten a girlfriend? Did he feel angry that she hadn’t stayed with him to help him when Cipher showed up? One look at her face told him that no, he didn’t. She had that covered on her own, but also, it wasn’t like she could have predicted everything that had happened afterwards.

“I just left him there, oh good job Addi, what a flawless plan, threaten to call Oracle Division when you know you can’t get through. He said he cared and then I just left him to be – be attacked, and, and-” Fiddleford grabbed her arm and brought her pacing to a stop, trying to reassure her.

“Addi, it’s not your fault, ya can’t be blamed for drawing the wrong conclusions in this-” he searched for a way to describe it – “this craptastic mess,”

Addi stared at him, then started nodding heatedly, less angry at herself and more at Ford. Stan could tell because he was feeling a little like that too.

“That knucklehead. He was convinced the Cipher Wheel were the good guys! Which means . . .” Her resolve crumbled as soon as it had appeared. “He wasn’t expecting an attack. He didn’t know what was happening either,”

Coming forward, Carla patted her shoulder as comfortingly as she could.

“Probably not,” were her wise words of reassurance. Stan winced. Even he could’ve come up with something more helpful.

“But I don’t think he’d blame you,” she added, looking at Stan for confirmation.

“Ford? You kidding?” He laughed slightly and told Addi, “No way. I mean, he’s the one who’s been telling me to ‘think critically’ since the ninth grade.”

Carla rolled her eyes at him.

Addi kneaded her forehead. “I should have been there, I should have helped him . . .”

“Addi, ya can’t feel guilty. It won’t help in the least, and we need ta keep moving forward, figuring this out,” Fiddleford admonished.

“Easier said than done,” Addi told him bitterly.

“Addi,” Fiddleford said, and there was a change in his tone, “Ah should be feelin’ guiltier than you.” He was clearly making a great effort to force the words out. “If it weren’t fer me, Stanford wouldn’t even have that memory gun,”

Fiddleford looked like he was really suffering there, forehead creased and anguish rolling off him, so Stan felt a little bad that he was completely lost again.

“Memory gun?” he said blankly.

“What Ford was running all over the world finding materials for,” Carla informed him.

“Really?! Another thing everyone knew but me?!” Stan exploded.

“Shhh! This is emotional!”

“Ah could have stopped him then and there, as soon as he showed me those blueprints, as soon as he told me what it was.” Fiddleford soldiered on. “But . . . Ah honestly thought it wasn’t that bad an idea,”

“You what?” said Addi, aghast.

“Ah thought it might help!” Fiddleford said, stricken. “Ya’d be able to get at the truth so much easier if you could see people’s memories – and the memory gun would allow that! It replicates them and keeps a copy in a detachable cylinder. With it, the justice system would be better, corruption could be found out sooner – the erasin’ part might even help with traumatic experiences!”

“That’s just about the unhealthiest thing I’ve ever heard,” Stan stated.

Fiddleford looked at him in mingled defensiveness and shame. “Well, Ah suppose it hardly matters now. I didn’t realise he was workin’ for Cipher, and here we are now,”

“Fidds, you can’t blame yourself,” Addi muttered after a moment.

“Exactly,” Carla agreed, pointedly fixating on her. “It’s useless, and we’ve still got a crisis to deal with.” She squeezed Addi’s shoulder and gave Fiddleford a reassuring pat on his.

“You’re right.” Addi glanced at Fiddleford, and he gave a weary nod, rubbing his eyes under his glasses as if it would give him new sight and focus.

“You’re right,” she repeated, “we need to deal with this first. We need to stop blaming ourselves and start working through this: or better yet, blaming the people actually behind this. The ones who are after us – and Ford!” Pacing decisively again, Addi smacked her fist into her palm, adopting the air of a commanding officer.

“We need a way to contact Oracle Division. We need to find out if Jheselbraum is alright, and where Ford is. We need to figure out what the Cipher Wheel plans to do next, keep out of their grip, and take. Them. Down!” She punctuated each word with another punch, reaching the end of her pacing track and whirling to face them again.

“Are you with me?” she demanded fiercely.

Personally, Stan thought it was getting a bit dramatic, but other than that, if it meant he got to hit more of the people who had manipulated, hurt, and tried to kill his brother, for years, leaving him a terrified, desperate, neurotic mess who might well be permanently on the edge of a panic attack right now for all Stan knew, who was deluded into thinking nowhere was safe for him, and who almost certainly was not capable of protecting himself never mind Stan (seriously, what had he been thinking?), then hell yeah. He was with her.

“Then let’s kick some Cipher butt!”

The door opened behind her.

“HA!” Addi shouted, slamming her fist into the intruder’s face and knocking him flat to the floor.

“Oooooh,” winced Stan, Carla, and Fiddleford.

Horrified, Addi helped the man up, frantically saying, “Holy crap, I am so sorry!”

“You okay, Wexler?” Carla said.

“I’m fine,” Wexler grumbled, straightening up and shooting Addi a very disgruntled glare. As he did so, he let his hand fall away from his face.

Stan could feel the room freeze as he, Fiddleford, and Addi got a good look at his face. He was suddenly really glad that he had kept looking at that list of Cipher Wheel symbols for a little while longer after Carla had stopped.

There was no way that “X” over Wexler’s eye could just coincidentally look like one of them. Especially not if both the Oracle Division agents thought the same.

In less than a second, the FBI’s spy was laid out on the floor again, unconscious this time from a quick jab from Stan.

“What was that for?!” Exclaimed Carla, leaping to the still-open door and shutting it as quickly and quietly as she could.

“He’s on the list of Cipher Wheel agents,” Fiddleford explained hurriedly. “That scar looks exactly like one of the signatures,”

“Wexler’s the spy?” The expressions that crossed Carla’s face transitioned smartly through surprise, disbelief, glee, guilt, and acceptance. “Wow. I didn’t think it was possible for me to like him even less.” She made for her desk, pulling a pair of handcuffs out and wasting no time in fixing her former partner’s hands behind his back. Stan knew Carla too well to think he was imagining it when she seemed to relish in pressing Wexler’s face none too gently into the unvacuumed floor near her desk - not that he was objecting. Stan was gritting his teeth just at the thought of this man watching Carla in everything she did for so long.

“This whole time,” she muttered self-depreciatingly. Then Addi cleared her throat and gave her a meaningful look.

“Yeah, I thought you were done blaming yourselves,” Stan reminded Carla.

The corner of her mouth twitched as she stood up.

“‘Yourselves’?” she inquired.

“Yep. It’s not like I’ve done anything I need to blame myself for,”

Not true. There was plenty Stan could start feeling awful about, starting with how if he had paid more attention to the state his brother was in he might not have let himself be drugged and Ford might be here with him now. But if there was one thing he had learned, it was that shit happened sometimes. And you just had to deal with it and keep going as best you could – at least until you were in a safe enough space not to do anything more you’d regret, if you really couldn’t help it.

“Alright,” Carla said decisively. “Now that we’re all-” she glanced at Stan, then gave a half-shrug – “pretty much on the same page, we should start sorting this out. Until Wexler wakes up and I can interrogate him, I think the best way to find Ford is to announce him as missing, alert the police and the media, and get a manhunt going. Unless anyone has any other-?” 

“Wait a minute!” Stan interrupted. “I haven’t told you happened when I found Ford.”

They waited expectantly. He turned specifically to address Addi and Fiddleford.

“So the bad news is, Bill Cipher was there,”

Carla gasped. Fiddleford’s jaw dropped and Addi went dead white.

“Are you sure it was him?” demanded Carla, recovering – although she was standing ramrod straight, as though three hundred electric volts had just zapped through her.

Stan thought about the snarl and the burning gaze he’d seen on the man’s face, the strange weapon he’d been so close to pulling the trigger of on Ford.

“Yeah. I’m sure,”

“So what’s the good news?” said Fiddleford, tapping his fingers on his leg in agitation.

“I decked him and he didn’t get me back,”

Now that he said it, it didn’t really even out the massive downside it was to have Bill Cipher himself in the city and after them. After Ford.

Not that he hadn’t been feeling that way before, but all of a sudden Stan really, really needed his brother back beside him.

∆

He had made it to the safe house. That was something.

Not forever.

For long enough. Bill did not know about it, and neither would Ford if it had not been for a passing interaction with a CIA operative who had met him inside it once.

Everything he would need for the next few hours was in the bathroom.

He’s in my head.

He would be able to lay low for a little while longer – afterwards, that was.

Unwittingly, Ford swallowed and blinked some sweat out of his eyes.

There would be enough time to recover and figure out his next move.

He almost laughed. What the hell was he supposed to do next? He couldn’t avoid Bill forever, Oracle Division thought he was a threat, and even if he accepted help, which he wouldn’t, that would place whoever helped him in danger. He would not contact Stan. He would not contact Addi. He would not contact Fiddleford.

He’s in my head.

Ford faltered. He had told Stan that he would call him as soon as he could. If he didn’t, he knew his brother would be going half out of his mind with worry before long, and he would probably do his best to find Ford regardless of what Ford himself wanted. In that case, he would call Stan and – somehow – convince him to stay away and to stay safe.

He’s in my head.

This was useless. All of this thinking was to do with . . . after. And there was not going to be an after unless he stopped stalling and got this over with.

The scalpel trembled in his hand. Ford shook himself out of a staring contest with his own reflection.

He’s in my head.

Breathing deeply, he felt again for the almost intangible texture of scar tissue at the base of his skull.