-----
"Bill, get up. --Get up, now," Stan ordered, standing over him and his 'nest' with his 'sister' in it.
Bill twisted in place slightly and let out a huff. Stan wanted to just grab him and cart him off, but he knew he needed the kid non-combative for this, and seconds counted. If he didn't wait until the kid was awake, he'd just waste time in...
"mmmM? Pineapples?" Miz said herself, rubbing at her eyes and looking up at him. --Yeah, it was early, even for her, even for Stan. Stan hadn't known why he'd woken up at first either, not until he'd thought to check on his brother and--
Bill slowly sat up, blinking. He stopped and swayed slightly in place.
--That was gonna have to be good enough. Stan hauled him up, lifted him over a shoulder and turned, telling Miz, "Go out swimming or something, I don't care. I need the kid for a bit, and no interruptions." He didn't wait for a reply, heading for the cabin already. He needed her out of the way and well out of earshot.
Miz blinked, yawning a little. "O-kaaaay~" She wobbled to her feet and plopped over the side of the boat, still a little dazed, landing in the sand with a soft 'foof!' (Yeah, she'd be fine. Demon-dragon.)
Stan stomped into the cabin in something of a rush, and practically dropped the kid down on the bunk next to Ford.
"Wake him the hell up completely!" Stan demanded out of the kid, who blinked and swayed in place a bit where he was sitting, then twisted in place slightly to look down at Ford and then...
...the kid raised a hand up, put it on the side of Ford's head, and his mouth dropped open and he let out that 'screaming'-singing hummmmm of his...
--and those minor muscle trembles Ford was doing abruptly stopped, and-- Ford practically convulsed in bed -- limbs flailing -- and started actually gasping in air again, his eyes flying the rest of the way open.
Stan dropped down onto the edge of the bed and immediately reached over and grabbed his brother up in a hug, upright against his chest, because-- Ford had been trying to sit up, eyes locked on him, hands grasping forwards along the sheets for him. (He'd looked like he'd been trying to get away from the kid for a second, there. Hey, progress!)
...Ford was gasping in his arms, and grabbing at him kind of weirdly, like… like Ford's arms didn't really want to work. ...Until his brother seemed to start to get better, like his body started working again.
...Or like he'd suddenly remembered how to work his arms again. Shit. What the hell…,/i>
"It's okay, Ford. It's okay," Stan told him, holding onto him carefully, as the kid continued to hum out that weird 'singing'-stuff in the background, not touching either of them. "You're okay." Stan rubbed his back a bit, and he felt Ford shiver in place.
...And then his brother turned and ducked his head up against Stan's neck slightly.
"Hell, Ford," Stan said quietly, as he pulled him in a little closer, as his brother's breathing started getting a little less heaving-frantic, and the kid's whatever-it-was 'singing' slowly tapered off…
The kid closed his mouth again and quieted, watching them both.
Ford was straightening up in place slowly, looking between them both. (He was breathing almost normally again, but...)
Damnit. This wasn't okay. --Stan hadn't known what was going on earlier. If he hadn't checked…
"You awake?" Stan asked him, and got a slight jerky nod out of him. And yeah, Ford was sure awake now, but… he hadn't been moving before. He hadn't even been twitching, really, but he'd looked tense as hell and he'd been trembling slightly, like maybe he'd wanted to wake up, or get up, or something, but couldn't. ...And Stan hadn't been able to properly rouse him, with a shake of a hand on his shoulder.
His brother hadn't really been making any noise at all, but… his eyes had been just a little bit open and… he'd looked panicked. Like… like Stan didn't know what. And he'd been doing that trembling thing. Stan hadn't even been sure if his brother had been completely…
It was when Stan had realized Ford's eyes were half-open that he'd cursed out loud and rushed off to go get the kid. He should've done it sooner, realized it sooner -- he'd just been doing what he normally did, rousing his brother when he woke up like he'd always used to do on the 'Two -- but he'd been half-asleep himself at first, with no coffee around to fix that one for him, and he hadn't been… hell, he hadn't been thinking. He hadn't really thought that...
Stan slowly looked up at the kid, who was watching them both with half-lidded eyes.
The demon was smiling.
Stan felt that flare of anger rise up and he squared his shoulders and ground out at the kid, "You knew this would happen."
"Oh, YES," the demon said, and he sounded fucking pleased with himself, is how he sounded. Stan clenched his jaw. "Really, I'd expected something a LOT more like this sooner," the demon said casually, as he sat there. On the edge of his brother's bunk. Not three feet away from him.
While his brother was sitting with him, practically scared out of his mind by a nightmare, still letting Stan continue to hug and hold onto him in his arms.
"What. Did. You. Do." Stan ground out at the demon, because there was no way in fucking hell that--
"I didn't do anything," Bill drawled out, sounding as pleased as can be. "He did it to himself." And before Stan could pull in the air to yell at him, what slipped out of the demon's mouth next in a breath was, "No help for that Stanford again, EVER."
And Stan felt his eyes go wide.
The demon was GRINNING at him, looking absolutely ecstatic.
And Stan felt something zero out, just flatline completely inside his head.
--Ford's hand was wrapped around his other wrist in a vise grip of steel as his brother shakingly told him, "No. Don't… don't give him…" Stan shook slightly in place, realized he was fighting against his own brother's grip as his brother took in another shaky breath and said, as firmly as he could (which wasn't very and also too much), "Don't give him what he wants."
...And Stan turned his head and stared over at his brother in disbelief.
He'd been about to haul the demon forward, and only let go again to punch him in the face for doing this to Ford, and Ford had stopped him from doing it?
Ford was looking at him, leaning on him even as he held onto him with that grip that was stopping him. And his brother looked wavering-firm, but scared.
...for him. Ford was scared for him.
...and the kids. He must be. Because the last time he'd seen Ford looked that scared, anxious, nervous, and terrified--
Stan felt his own breath speeding up, going too fast. His brother didn't want him to--?!
--to defend him? Why the hell not?! Why wouldn't Ford let him--
--break the agreement, the kids were on the line. Goddamnit. That was what Ford had to be scared of--
--Stan didn't care, the demon had crossed the line already! It was too late for--
Stan looked up at the demon, angry as anything, and--
--and Ford had delayed him long enough that he was past the initial rush of red rage. So when looked back over at the demon again, this time he actually saw what was right in front of him. He realized what he was seeing.
The demon's eyes were flat. He was sitting there, tense and waiting. His shirt was fisted in Stan's grip -- which had only barely been arrested in time by Ford -- and the demon wasn't fighting it. He wasn't moving at all. He was just sitting there, waiting and tense, and he was--
There was uncertainty in that demon's eyes. Past all the absolute insanity filling his gaze, the wide grin, the anticipation--
--past and beyond all that was the idiot dumbass punk kid sitting right in front of him, shoving as hard as he could up against the boundaries that Stan had put in place for him--
--against them, up against them, because the stupid fucking demon didn't think he'd done anything wrong--
Fuck. Goddamnit. This fucking--
Stan pulled in a hard harsh breath and he tried as hard as he could to rise above it. Just for a minute. Just for--
He couldn't do it. He knew he couldn't do this. The demon deserved a punch in the face, for this, and Stan couldn't hold back. Not after this. Not this time.
...But Stan did it anyway. Because fuck what he couldn't or couldn't do, he had his brother here with him, and he trusted Ford to keep him from going over the edge if he really was going too far.
So Stan pulled in a breath and shook in place a little with rage as he leaned forward and demanded out of the kid roughly, "Say that again."
And the demon let out a laugh. One of those 'AHAHAHAHA!' ones. Oh, this little shit. This stupid little-- He was giving the game away, it was shakier than it should've been if he'd been playing for--
"Say it again, kid," Stan demanded out of him, tightening his grip on his shirt, and not letting up on him for a minute.
He saw the demon twitch slightly at the 'kid'. He saw and felt him try to pull away slightly, out of his hold, the fist that was still in his shirt -- the demon-kid made it look like he was just trying to resituate himself in place, but Stan knew better. Stan didn't let go.
...And neither did the kid. ...Because he had a hand at his forearm. Stan hadn't even felt it before; he was only seeing it and realizing it was there, now. He'd noticed his brother's hand at his wrist, but he hadn't felt--
that grip. He'd pulled his chest away a little bit, or tried to, but--
--This was the kid, trying to push him into breaking the agreement himself, when--
--the kid had been hanging onto Ford, too, out on that porch before he'd called the deal off, just like this, almost. Damnit. (Demon couldn't lie worth a damn, could he. He--)
"I didn't do anything. He did it to himself. No help for that Stanford again, ever," the kid repeated flatly, and he felt the kid twitching every so often in his hold now, the hand grabbing at his arm tensing every so often...
And Stan managed to stay far up enough above the anger for long enough that he realized-- what was really going on.
(Kid wasn't even trying to push his buttons this time. Not really. The demon had barely tried this time. He wasn't looking nearly as enthusiastic as he had been before. Kid was already maybe starting to realize just how badly he'd screwed this one up, but good. And if he didn't? Stan was damn well sure gonna make sure the stupid punk kid understood it now.)
Stan took in a deep breath and let it out, as his mind raced forward. As he figured out what he was going to do about this.
...Oh, was this kid gonna have it coming.
Because the kid wasn't lying. ...The kid didn't think he was lying to them.
The kid was trying to run. The kid had been, and still was, trying to get him to pull the trigger on--
"You're not helpin' Ford anymore." Stan repeated. It wasn't a question; the kid had outright said that Ford wasn't getting any help from him anymore -- and it wasn't the first time he'd said it, either. (And Stan remembered when, the last time he'd said it--)
"YES," said the kid. "I am NOT helping that Stanford anymore."
And Stan saw Bill Cipher lower his head slightly, preparing for... the hit.
Demon was looking him right in the eyes and expecting him to...
...What, did he think he was an idiot?
Stan glared at him.
And then he closed his eyes and forced himself to relax.
When he opened his eyes again, and opened his fist, he saw the confusion start to set in with the demon-kid. ...He hadn't expected that, yeah. He'd thought he'd just found his 'out'. Just the right-wrong button to push.
...Kid still hadn't let go of his arm, even if Ford had loosened the hold on his wrist.
"Ford, let go," he told his brother quietly.
"Stan…"
"It's fine, let go."
Ford let go. (So did the demon.)
And Stan slowly raised his hand up.
The kid got that flat look in his eyes again.
The stupid punk-ass demon-kid braced himself in place, glaring up at him.
And Stan smiled at him.
And then Stan leaned forward, reached forward, and patted the kid on the side of the head.
"Good job, kid," he said in the lightest of tones. "You're really tryin' to keep to the agreement here, now, aren'tcha?"
And Stan knew, he just knew, that he was right on the money with what was actually going on here, when the kid looked startled, even straight-up confused, staring at him in disbelief, and then--
Yeah. --Did his brother catch that? Stan really hoped so.
Because there'd been a flash of fear, there, for a second. Kid had tried to pull away from his there, from his hand on his head, eyes wide as he realized what Stanley Filbrick Pines wasn't about to do.
--Kid was scared and oh, how he should be -- smartest thing the kid had ever thought about him; the kid didn't know what to do, because he'd thought something, something about him, and the kid? He'd been dead wrong.
Because Stan had listened to his brother. He had his brother, here, backing him up. --You payin' attention to this, kid?
And the next thing the kid was thinking? Stan would bet the Shack that the kid was wrong about that one, too.
Stan wasn't an idiot. (He wasn't gonna just add a bunch more rules, and a bunch more rules, and a bunch more rules on top of everything he had going, more and more tryin' to cover absolutely every last thing that could happen down to a T.)
Stan wasn't stupid. He knew what he was doing. (He knew what would happen if he did that. And Ford was right; he wasn't about to give the kid what he thought that he wanted. In the moment. Just after waking up. Kid had boxed himself in on this one, and Stan had let him. Maybe he should've not let things go last night all that easily. Because every time he let go just a little bit, and let Ford and the kid do whatever the hell they wanted...)
(And he knew what the kid was trying to do, too. Letting things slid and slid and He wasn't gonna try to tie down the triangle so tight that the kid would have to break everything or get strangled by it all, from too much conflicting junk being shoved down onto him. Hell, no. That wasn't how the agreement was supposed to go. That wasn't how to make things work. (That'd just get them all killed. It'd just give the kid that many more things to try and break, and have Stan having to run around after him forever. Stan wasn't doing that. Whole point of this thing was to have the kid running circles around after himself. Stopping himself. Not Stan.) Stan didn't stop there, or let the kid get away with that; he reached forward and pulled the kid forward by him arm -- roughly, but not too roughly, just enough for the kid not to be calling it 'an attack' what, you think I can't go right up to the line on some of this stuff, too? -- and he started patting the kid's head again, the side of it, on top. (Not messing it up, it was definitely a rough patting. Might've, y'know, come pretty close.) He didn't let up. And yeah, he stopped patting the kid's head after awhile a couple of minutes, once all that was left there in the kid's eyes was confusion and more than a little irritation -- no fear, none of that, there, 'cause that wasn't really what he was goin' for, either, to get all mirrored back at him again, too -- and just let his hand lie right there where it was, all relaxed. No threat really; just there. And then Stan (finally) looked over at Ford again (who looked like he really didn't know what to think) and Stan told him, "Kid's supposed to let me know when there's some kinda weak spot in the agreement, where somebody can attack us. --You're on the priority list now, because of me and the kids. That means the agreement includes you, too, implicitly." "Stan…" Ford said quietly, and yeah, he knew. Ford remembered him telling him why her hadn't had him as part of the agreement in the first place, but things were a little bit different now. (Because his brother had--) Stan looked over at the stupid punk kid again and said, more evenly, to his brother, "Kid's been sure that I can't make this all work, since forever. Said he'd be willing to let me try, but..." Stan grimaced, not looking away from the kid. "Probably thought this one was a doozy. Rules weren't set up to handle this, they ain't enough as-is to stop somethin' like this from happening to you, with the kid maybe only barely followin' them 'by-the-book', instead of actually trying to keep the mutual non-aggression agreement himself." He saw a flash of anger cross the kid's face next. '...Yeah, you just wait, kid. I'm gonna drop-kick you in the head so hard…' Stan looked down at his brother again, pulled him up and in a little tighter of a one-armed hug as he could right then. "Kid thinks you're attacking yourself; that's outta bounds, the way I've got things set up. Not his callout. So the kid doesn't have to help you out; he's only helping me, and tryin' to keep you alive and feeling all-right in the head for the kids. --And that ain't enough, is it," Stan said to the kid, looking up at him again. "You better tell me what I'm missing here, though," Stan said next, in far too level tones, leaning in a little bit. "You slept outside for this, and you knew what was gonna happen, didn't you. That ain't actually following the agreement, kid. Because if Ford stops breathing--" "He'll survive," was the bland response he got out of the kid for that one, and Stan felt his temper spike again. "Stan…" was the quiet warning response he got from Ford again, and Stan forced it all back down again. "Thinking you're gonna be able to get to him in time isn't enough, kid!" Stan yelled out at him harshly. "If my brother suffocates--!" "He can't," the demon said next, and every thought process and argument Stan had going on in his head ground to a straight-up halt. And the look of disbelief he had going must've been strong enough that even the kid knew what he was thinking there, because the kid leaned back (and Stan let him, dropping his hand back down to his side almost numbly) and the kid pushed his hands down against the bedsheets on either side of him, and the kid said, "That Stanford could walk straight on down into the ocean and breathe water, and NOT DROWN. --He could breathe ANYTHING and not-suffocate! I made sure of that." And Stan stared at the (glaring) demon in disbelief as he heard this. And he felt Ford shiver in place at his side, and suddenly realized exactly why his brother had been so willing to risk his own life in not falling asleep next to the kid last night. It was because he hadn't been. ...Which meant that the kid had just set up the perfect fucking trap for him, for them both, to.... The demon really hadn't had to... (Not by the strictest sense of the agreement, he hadn't. But that wasn't what Stan was going for; not by a long shot. The demon-kid--) "Ford, is this actually a thing?" Stan said lowly to his brother. "I…" His brother swallowed, and said quietly, "I haven't actually tried…" "--Wouldn't be all that pleasant," the kid cut in, with an almost-cheerful sneer, crossing his arms at them. "Getting all that sand and salt and silt out of his lungs that-much-later. And all that algae, woo--!" the demon enthused, with a horrible gleam in his eye. And the bastard-punk was really enjoying this-- Stan pulled in a breath, and he forcibly steadied himself. (Damnit. This was what he'd been dealing with all these years. His brother… his brother had been dealing with this. This shit. This was what Ford was afraid of having happen, to them, to all of them, all the time-- This kind of shit.) Stan felt his brother wince when he asked the kid, "When," and he felt him almost cringe when the demon said, "When he first arrived in my own little corner of the multiverse! --I changed the ruleset acting on him PERMANENTLY; added my own little localized one -- practically stapled it onto him -- just for him!" "Why." Stan said when what he really wanted to ask was what the hell else did you do to my brother, you--. "Because I didn't want him SUFFOCATING himself after he left MY little neck-of-the-multiverse on his little jaunt through wherever," the demon-kid waved off. "Just because I set up MY dimension that way, DOESN'T mean that--" "--I hear ya," Stan said next, cutting the kid off, and the kid fell silent, though he looked annoyed (and tense) as he quieted. Because Stan had gotten the gist of it; the demon had done this thing to Ford back when they'd had their deal on, and Ford knew about it (hell, he'd have to, didn't he? 'the next minute you're breathing fingers'…), and... Oh. Oh, goddamnit. Kid really would've actually felt fucking justified at breaking things after, if Stan had hit him for what he'd just said dared to say to him that way, to him and his brother, to their faces, for mouthing off at him, for telling crowing at him what he hadn't done, what he'd thought he'd gotten away with, what he'd thought he should be able to get way with with the way things were set up right now. The kid had actually technically, damn it been completely within the agreement as-is. If Ford hadn't stopped him-- Stan took in a deep breath... And Stan sent a long dark and angry look at the kid. ...Y'know, Stan had been about to (mentally) hit the kid with what he'd been all wrong-thinking about first, in not following the agreement, in just letting Ford practically suffocate from a bad dream instead of trying to prevent it before. But if that wasn't a thing… Stan could've hammered the point home right then that the kid should've not let it go, that he should've said something to him and warned him about it all anyway, been a hell of a lot more specific about all of it, and not just let things go like that… But Stan didn't feel like having that argument right now. The kid would still think he was justified, at having been willing to -- and been trying to -- get Ford to sleep next to him at all, to begin with. Stupid punk kid would probably just say that Stan had overruled him with the whole 'or you can do this instead' thing that he'd tossed out there last night, to try and get the both of them to sleep sometime before the sun rose over all their heads again. Trying to fight that particular fight? Was pointless. All that would do would just be wasting his time, and getting Stan exactly nowhere with him. So Stan just went on to the second thing, instead. (Hey, getting this part of things settled mattered more right now, anyway.) "You don't want to be doin' this," Stan told the kid firmly. "I'm not doing anything!" the kid told him with a smile. "THAT'S the POINT!" Stan clenched his jaw, and he felt Ford tense. Stan rubbed a hand across Ford's back slowly. (No, he wasn't gonna lose it. Hang in there, Ford.) Yeah, the kid had overplayed his hand earlier. Stan knew better. "I want you to start doin' for Ford what you were doing for him before, again," Stan told him. "No," said the kid angrily, and "No," said Ford, far more quietly, but with no less intensity. And then the kid let out a laugh and gave them both a (brittle) smile and gestured at Ford, saying, "--SEE! We're aligned on this! --I'm just doing what he WANTS," the kid said next, giving them that wide, too-wide grin of his again. "Thought you said that what Ford wants ain't good for him," Stan said evenly, and the kid lost the grin. Kid didn't laugh about it, or enthusiastically agree and try to one up him on it, no. He-- Stan breathed, because yeah, he'd been paying attention, and... "...It ain't good for you, either. Is it. Not doing whatever this thing is." Because his brother wasn't looking so hot just then, but… neither was the kid. "That you decided to stop doing." Because yeah, the one time the kid decided to act all stubborn like he thought Ford was like -- 'deciding things all on his own' like the kid complained about Ford doing to him -- literally complained about for days and days on end -- and this is what the kid was gonna 'decide' to get all stubborn and 'decide'-y over? This? --Like hell. The demon remained silent, but the way he was glaring at him... ...Yeah, y'know what? That was fine; Stan would get back to that one later. "There any other thing anybody could do, to make Ford stop having these nightmares, besides you doin' your thing again, whatever that is, or you lettin' him fall asleep next to you?" "...Yes," said the kid. Right. "What are the easiest ways that we could do it, other than having you do whatever again instead," Stan demanded out of him next. Y'know, all that stuff that the kid should've told him earlier. "...That Stanford falls asleep next to and touching you," the kid said next. What he wasn't expecting to hear, that slipped out of the kid next, though, was an, "Or Stitched-Heart." And that… sonofabitch told him about half of what Stan had needed to know. This was some kinda stupid Zodiac thing going on here. Which meant... "Bill, what the hell did you stop doing for Ford?" Stan said next. "I stopped helping him," the demon repeated. "No help from me - again - ever." Yeah, this was definitely some kinda Zodiac thing, with the kid refusing to talk like this. "Why do you think Ford doesn't want it?" Stan asked the demon blandly next, and he felt Ford stir more than a little bit restlessly next to him. (It's fine, Ford. Was a pretty damn good thing that he'd worked out that 'rub you back' signal-thing with his brother before. Demon-kid might get ciphers, but half the time he hardly saw what was right in front of his face. The things you weren't trying to hide from him, half the time he just didn't get. Just a little more…) "--Because he doesn't want anything to do with me," the kid spat out at him next, and yeah, Stan had finally begun to touch on the nerve. "He wants me to treat him like a Stanford? Refuses to be a 'Sixer' -- my six-fingered hand?! --WELL, I can certainly treat him like a Stanford instead -- just as MUCH as he WANTS!" the kid snarled out at them both. ('And he can choke on it, too.' Was the not so subtle subtext the kid was tossing out there. 'Literally'.) Fuck. "You disconnected from him," Stan said, in a sudden rush of understanding. It made sense; kid had talked about disconnecting himself from things like karma before, so why not people? Why not them? --And with Ford not wanting anything to do with the demon… The kid mirrored what was tossed at him, and he threw it back hard. Just as hard as Ford had been pushing the demon away, not wanting anything to do with him, and now the kid was-- "No," said Bill, crossing his arms and looking annoyed. But then he said next: "Not completely." (Stan felt Ford straighten in place.) "--He's mine; can't get rid of ME!" the kid added, with a twisted, weird sort of grin. And an almost demented, not just angry but furious look in his eyes. "But that DOESN'T mean I have to--!!" "--You can't get rid of him, either," Stan cut in, "And you're shooting yourself in the foot, pullin' this shit." Kid froze in place at that, wide-eyed and looking disgruntled. ...Yeah, caught you out right there, huh kid. "You're gonna connect right back up to him, same way as you were before, right now," Stan said to the demon firmly. "--No," the kid said immediately. "Stan, I don't want that…" Ford said quietly to him. "Ford, you're having nightmares that you can't handle, and you're practically a walking zombie or somethin' these days," Stan told him, because it wasn't as if he hadn't noticed it, damnit. "--It's not just the nightmare-thing, is it," Stan said to the kid. "You're made of energy, you were more connected to him before…" Didn't take a genius to figure out that maybe… "Ford's been tired as hell lately. --That's part of it too, ain't it." Because Stan would just bet that the kid had been giving Ford some of that energy of his, somehow, before. To help keep him going... The demon-kid grimaced at him, then looked away. ...Yeah, Stan had noticed something was up; he just hadn't known what or why, before. But his brother had been tiring out real quick the last couple of days since the kid had stopped all that 'helping him' stuff. Ford had been slowly getting worse before, at home, at the Shack -- after his deal with the kid had been off -- but he hadn't been that bad. Ford had been recovering from two weeks of practically no sleep, and a hell of a lot of stress; it took awhile to come off a bender like that. But here? His night-owl insomniac brother had gone from maybe thinking it was just a coffee thing and being a little more tired than he was used to every day, to suddenly being nearly forced to stop and lie down only three or four hours after waking up, and needing naps in the afternoon and junk, and it wasn't like Stan hadn't noticed all of that going on. "I want you to do it, kid," Stan said next, and for the moment ignored his brother's quiet, "Stan…" "That Stanford doesn't want me to," the kid said next, not looking at him. "I can convince him to say yes," Stan told the kid with absolute assurance. "I want you to--" "No," said the kid. "That Stanford--" "Ford, agree to it," Stan said, not looking away from the kid. There was a long silence except for the sound of them all breathing. "I'm not…" Ford began. "You can't disconnect from him completely, Ford," Stan told him. "Kid wasn't lying there. Might as well get enough outta him to stop having those nightmares, again. Get something out of it, even if you can't get yourself out of it. Yeah?" "I…" Ford began, then paused. Out of the corner of his eye, Stan saw his brother look between him, and the demon. And then, heh, then Ford slowly said, "...Alright, Stan." And then his brother took in a breath and gave him a quiet, "Yes." Stan smiled. (Ladies and gentlemen: his brother. Doing the unexpected, just like he'd said: something that Bill wouldn't expect, sometimes.) "I want you to do it, kid," Stan repeated. "N-no," the kid said, and Stan's eyes narrowed slightly at the half-stutter. (He'd caught that. Had his brother?) "Doesn't have to be a lot, kid," Stan added next, "Just enough to ease it all off." "N-no, I--" The kid looked around, away, grimaced and almost said… something, looking like he was trying to gain some kind of mental traction and losing it, like he had shifting sand beneath him… but then he seemed to grab ahold of something and stop himself. (Barely.) And as Stan watched, the kid physically pushed himself back -- his back -- up back against the wall of the cabin behind him. Just as he mentally pushed himself back, as well. Kid was glaring at Ford as he did it. (And Ford was staring quietly as he watched all this, saying nothing.) "No," the kid finally said to them clearly. "I'm not doing that." But it looked like it had cost the kid some serious effort. ...Stan thought about all this for a moment, trying to wrap his head around what he'd just seen there a little better. He was starting to get an idea of... Yeah. There was a lot to unpack with the kid, sure. But the way the kid had been acting the last couple of days… really, the biggest change in how the kid had been acting recently, ever since he'd stopped whatever this thing was with Ford, was... Heh. Okay. Sure. (...And that was probably the last pillar of whatever that the kid had managed to grab onto there, for a 'no'. And then…) So, yeah. Let's go with… And then, without looking away from the kid, he said next, quite calmly to Ford, "Ford, you remember that talk we had a couple months ago on the boat, in Iceland? About that one scrawny-ass guy with the big black beard?" Stan could just about feel Ford's stare on him at the abrupt shift in topic. (Yeah, just give him a minute. He'd get there.) "...Yes," Ford said slowly. "I do." "You remember how he stole that gas can from us, right off of our boat?" Stan said next. "How we had to go runnin' after him to get it back?" "Yes," said Ford, glancing between him and the kid. "You remember how we lost him," Stan said, still not looking away from the demon. "But how I asked around, and we searched around, and we found his brother's shop instead?" "Yes," Ford said next. Stan pulled in a slow breath. He saw how the kid was already tensing. "You remember when I saw our gas can in the window of that shop there, and I brought up goin' in there and takin' it back, and all-else I wanted to maybe do? What you told me, then?" Stan asked his brother next. (And yeah, it had been a doozy. He'd straight-up turned around and asked his brother if he was really serious. And he had been.) "Yes," said Ford, frowning at him. "Good," said Stan, lowering his hand away from the center of his brother's back (and ending the signal he'd been giving him). "Tell the kid what you told me." Ford gave him a long look. But his brother did as he said, and said, "I told you that I didn't believe that it was appropriate to barge in there, guns blazing. We didn't know whether he'd had anything to do with the theft," Ford said, "Or if he'd even known it was stolen." "Yeah," Stan said, "But do you remember what you told me specifically." Ford paused for a moment. "...I believe I said, 'Stan, I see no reason to treat the thief's brother like the thief himself. I refuse to do that to someone, without evidence to the contrary.'" Kid was still looking tense. And he was staring at Ford, now. (...Yeah, Stan had thought that'd get his attention. Wasn't like he didn't remember when and why the demon had pulled all this shit in the first place.) "Yeah," Stan said next, "And I remember that big long discussion we had when we got back to the boat later, too." Stan dropped a hand on Ford's shoulder, and he said, "So, gotta hypothetical question for you, here, o' brother of mine." Ford sighed and turned towards him with a grimace -- 'cause that was what he did when Stan talked to him like that, heh -- and gave him a 'this had better be good' look to him. And then Stan asked (while already knowing the answer), "Did you mean that for everybody?" His brother blinked at him. "What?" "Y'know," Stan said, "Anybody. Brother, sister, aunt, uncle, parent, sibling, whatever. Somebody does something, and one of them--" "--Stanley," Ford said harshly, pushing away from him slightly on the bed and cutting him off. "I am not going to blame anyone else for something that they didn't do!" "Not gonna take something out on somebody else," Stan said. "No! Never!" Ford said hotly, scrubbing a hand through his hair in frustration. "Not even if they're family and--" Stan began. "--Of course not!" Ford shot out, "Stanley, I already told you--" "Doesn't matter who it is, or what they've done," Stan said. "--No!!" Ford said hotly. "That's not--" "Even if it's Bill Cipher," Stan put out there. "That would hardly matter--" Ford began almost automatically, then stopped and stared at Stan. "What…?" "Y'know, hypothetically," Stan said next, but he was already smiling on the inside, because his brother looked half-distraught, and he could see the look on the kid's face out of the corner of his eye and-- "That's hardly topical, Stanley," Ford began, "Because Bill--" "Well, y'know, Miz is--" Stan began, almost good-naturedly, and as absolutely leadingly as possible. And Stan saw when Ford snapped and straight-up lost his temper with him. (Heh.) "--I'm not going to punish anyone else for something someone else did!" Ford yelled out at him, "Bill or otherwise!! --What part of this do you not--" Stan was looking over at the kid as Ford got past the most important part of that, though, and-- (Ford was frustrated as hell that his brother was needling him on this point, as if Stan thought that if he asked him the same thing enough times, that he would somehow change his mind! His morals were not something that simply changed on a whim! And-- Stan was smiling and not even looking at him--! What was he--?!) And Stan knew when his brother had gotten frustrated at him and looked over at what he was looking at, too, because that was when Ford's voice cut off. Because the kid was staring at them expressionless, white as a sheet, and he was shivering slightly in place. Stan was smiling. He'd known it. He was right. (Mirrors, reflections, games; all of it.) Because yeah, the kid had been enjoying-- (Stan pulled in a breath, held it all) watching Ford suffer earlier. (Stan let it out again.) ...Kid had been mad at Ford since forever. --But he hadn't been that deadly-killer mad at Ford until Ford had said-- ...The kid hadn't dropped his 'helping' thing for Ford right away, once he'd gotten his head screwed back on straight after all his deals were off. He didn't do things that would screw himself over if he could help it. And he'd been pretty mad then, sure, but not mad enough to pull the trigger on this. Not then. Not until Ford had pushed him to that specific point, later. Denying the kid's brother's existence. ...which meant that the kid really had had a reason to keep it going up until that point, up until Ford had pissed him off so badly that the demon-kid had decided himself that taking the hit was worth it. (And Stan was pretty sure now, what it was. What the kid had just hit himself with, when he'd tried doing this 'disconnecting' thing with Ford -- or as close to it as the demon could get, with any of them who were one of 'his Zodiac'.) Ford was alive because he hadn't threatened Bill's dead brother outright. If Ford had, he probably would be, agreement or not, Stan's brother or not, Zodiac or not. Stan didn't get everything about the kid yet, but he knew enough to know some things already, about how the kid thought and approached shit like this. Bill had thought that Ford -- that anyone -- would go after his brother as a weak spot, if they knew about him; as an easy target to hurt him. And Stan was pretty sure now, after a lot of the things the kid had said, and what the kid had said he could do, that the kid was eventually, at some point, planning on... And Stan had just handed the triangle demon the biggest 'get out of jail free' card from Ford that the demon could possibly get, for this 'Liam' of his. (Because the demon didn't know his brother at all, and hadn't been willing to risk--) And Stan had made sure that it was covered completely for the kid, too. The kid probably thought that Ford had thought that Stan had been thinking about Miz, when they'd each said what they had. (Stan knew better and so would Ford, once he thought about it for more than two seconds while he was mad as hell with him and 'not gonna take it anymore' -- but that hardly mattered, because Ford had made the main point of the whole thing really freaking crystal clear anyway, and…) "You've got no excuses left now, kid," Stan told him. "You know what I want you to do." "I--" the kid said shakily, as his torso bobbed slightly in place. "I--" It didn't look like he was doing it on purpose, exactly; he looked more like he was stuck than anything. "I want you to do this for me, kid," Stan repeated. "It'll help me out." And the kid had promised him any help he asked for, while they were here. (So either the kid was gonna talk back to him again now, or…) Stan watched carefully, and he saw how the kid went a little glassy-eyed for a split-second there, and started to almost fall-forward. ...But it was more of a bobbing motion towards Stan. ...Until the kid seemed to catch himself, just barely, and pull himself back away from him again. And the kid looked frustrated, as he backed off again, putting his back back-up against the wall behind him. Ford was sitting there, staring at this, next to him. ...Yeah, Stan was pretty sure he had the kid's number, now. --The kid really had shot himself in the foot with this one, bein' all stubborn and angry and spiteful. Demon-kid had decided the hit just might be worth it, so he'd gone ahead with it and done it anyway. Even though that had meant… ...losing what he'd been getting from Ford in return. Because the kid didn't give anything without getting something back. Not now; not ever. And Stan was starting to get an idea of maybe what that thing was. What the demon-kid had been getting outta Ford that he might've… "You need him," Stan told the kid. "NNnno, I don't," said the kid, still bobbing in place, looking half-untethered. "Yeah, you do, kid," Stan said. "I can tell. Maybe you think you don't, but you do." He pulled in a breath, and let it out slowly. "Just go ahead and do it, already." And Stan waited. And the kid smiled. And then the kid let out that weird clicky sort-of giggle of his. And he said, in an odd sort of tone, "I can't." Stan stared. The kid let out another odd giggle again. "I can't do it." Stan frowned and opened his mouth to say-- "--I can't do it alone," the kid said next, like it was just slipping right out of him again. Stan let out a breath. ...Hell. That wasn't-- Not a 'no', just a 'being stupid'. "What do you need to do it?" Stan said, pulling off outward-calm because he really could at this point. The demon-kid was blinking and looking between them. (Ford was staying silent throughout all this.) "More than just…" The kid's eyes drooped lower, and he looked tired. ...Great. "This a Zodiac thing to fix the Zodiac thing? --'Course it is." Stan said, or the kid wouldn't have brought up the Valentino kid as a possible 'solution' as part of keeping Ford from having those nightmares. Stan frowned as he chewed over this. "You need the whole circle for this?" "Maybe," said the triangle demon. ...Not evasively; hell, the kid actually wasn't sure. "C'mon," Stan said. "You gotta at least try." He let out a grumpy old man sigh; hey, he was allowed. "So how do we--" Stan stopped, and blinked. Because the kid hadn't even said anything, he'd just slid forward on the bunk, and… Stan looked down at the kid's hand, that had just slid into his own. "Okay…" Stan said. Apparently holding hands really was a thing for most of this Zodiac-stuff. Stan looked over at his brother, and lifted a hand to place it on his shoulder. He gave Ford an almost-sorry look, because he knew how hard this was gonna be for him, his brother doing anything close to something like shaking hands with the demon for this. Ford grimaced, and he looked like he was seriously considering some form of mutiny, despite what he'd told Stan earlier. (C'mon, Ford. You can do this.) And Stan watched as Ford pulled in a breath… ...and followed through on the 'unpredictable thing' he was doin' for him, putting a hand on Stan's own shoulder, too, and using it as a brace to sit himself up a bit more upright. Ford not-quite glared at Bill, as he slowly held out his hand towards him. And Bill did the same. And Ford moved his hand forward slowly... And Bill did as well... And then Ford flinched, reflexively raising and pulling his hand back again-- --and the demon-kid lowered and moved his hand back again, too, just as quickly as Ford had. Just as quickly. Stan watched his brother stop, and blink at this. ...and then move his hand forward ...and back ...and forward and back. And stop and frown. And then move his hand side to side, in little bits and starts... ...and watch the kid do the exact mirrored-opposite motions as he was doing, all the while. (Yeah, Ford. Mirroring. ...What, you thought I was lyin' to ya about the kid?) Stan watched this, and managed to keep his grumpy face going (because hell, watching the two of 'em go at it with each other should not be this funny), and finally, Ford frowned a little more deeply, and seemed to settle on a sort-of over-under forearm-clasp with the kid. And then the kid closed his eyes and they all lit up blue. Stan heard Ford gasp out loud. And then the kid let go of him (and Ford) about a second later, pulling away from them both. "It work?" Stan said, though he was already pretty sure that the answer was-- "Yes," said the demon-kid. His breathing seemed to be a little faster than it had been before. (So was Ford's, weirdly enough.) Stan watched as the kid half-hunched, half-rotated his shoulders for a second, then let out a huff. "You both gonna be feeling better, now?" Stan asked him blandly next. The kid looked up at him, eyes a bit hard and a lot more-- what Stan was used to seeing outta the kid, really. More there. (Yeah. He'd thought so. Probably better that this had happened here, instead of back home where--) And the kid said, "That Stanford's nightmares should stay under again. I am NOT doing any more than that." The kid sounded tense, and there was that undercurrent of anger there (probably because Stan had asked him about how he was feelin', too), but… yeah. Kid was still angry about Ford saying he didn't have a brother, but... Kid had the next best thing to a 'get out of jail free for having a demon as a brother' card, now. With Ford. (Y'know, the guy who they all knew was still trying to find a way to kill him dead?) ...And the kid had it now, when the kid had thought Ford would want to go after his brother (one way or the other) for stuff that he had done before, if and when Ford realized that this 'Liam' guy was a thing. ...Yeah. That had to go a long way. ...Or at least a little way with the kid. (Hey, it was a start.) "Good," said Stan. "That was all I was askin' for, there." And he didn't even feel like punching the kid too badly when he followed that up with a final, "Thanks, kid." "Tch," went the kid, as he shoved himself up and off of the bunk's mattress. Stan glanced over at his brother as the kid moved off, and… his brother wasn't just breathing a little faster; he looked like he was having a little trouble breathing again, but… uh, more out of some kind of shock than anything else. Not some stupid dream-thing that the kid had screwed with his brother enough to give him in the first place this time, or whatever. "Ford, you okay?" Stan asked him. "I-- that--" Yeah, his brother was definitely all shell-shocked and junk all-right. "--That was like the circle!" Ford exclaimed, looking alarmed and sounding kind of… off. (And he was staring down at his hands for some reason.) "Uh, yeah?" said Stan. What, his brother hadn't been expecting that? "Only stronger!" Ford said, jerking his head up to look at him. "Uh, yeah?" said Stan, because really… "Ford, what were you expectin' here?" Ford turned to him and stared. "What?" Stan said. The kid had practically confirmed it was a Zodiac thing a bunch of times there, when Stan had been asking. So what was Ford gettin' all weird about? "Didn't you feel that?" Ford said, half-hysterically, and Stan was starting to wonder... "Uh, yeah?" Stan said. (Hadn't felt that different from the circle-thing before, and not too different from the 'anchor' thing he had going with the kid, either -- though he hadn't felt that really more than a couple times now from the kid, and only barely when he had. Kid was bein' real careful with things there, not wanting him to get any more of a handle on that one. Not that the kid was being all that stupid there, considering.) Stan looked on at his brother's expression and sighed. "Ford, what's the problem, here?" He eyed his brother. "We're all part of that Zodiac thing, right?" Ford knew that... "Bill isn't!!" Ford exclaimed, pulling himself inwards and away from Stan slightly, and looking a little freaked out, his hands clutched in close to his chest. And Stan just… couldn't help but stare at him. "Ford, he's right in the freaking middle of the whole thing, yeah?" Stan told his brother with exasperation. Because really, Ford, what the hell…? "What part of 'you are all MINE' do you people not get?" Stan heard the triangle demon grouse out at them, halfway to the door. "We aren't yours!" Ford said, swiveling his head over towards hi, eyes-wide and looking like he was jumping straight from some kind of weird-ass panic (over nothing that Stan could see, and) straight into some kind of denial. "YES YOU ARE," Bill told them both, turning around in the doorway to face them, looking and sounding more than a little incensed. "The stupid lizard made you all FOR ME." And with that parting shot sent, the triangle turned away and slammed the door to the cabin shut behind him. Stan eyed the door. Then, he called out (mostly directed through the porthole window in the cabin that was open, still), "Get some more sleep, kid. You're way too grouchy." Then, Stan turned back to his brother. ...who looked like he might be having some kinda existential crisis going on. "We… we aren't… We-- we weren't made for… for..." Ford said slowly, looking three kinds of messed up for some reason. Stan sighed, and rubbed the back of his beck. "Ford, the kid's literally older than dirt," he reminded his brother. "He thinks math is his." The kid was nuts. (Why did Ford keep on listening to him so much? He didn't have to. --And he sure as hell didn't have to take him seriously. So why couldn't he...) "Just… let it go." "I…" Ford didn't really look any better, still pretty damn frazzled. "Ford, the kid might not be lying, but that doesn't mean he's right," Stan reminded his brother patiently. And he waited. "...Right," Ford said after awhile, lowering his hands slowly. "Yes. ...Of course." Stan sighed and shook his head a bit. "Look," Stan told his brother, who looked up at him slowly. "Maybe you should get a little more sleep, too. Yeah?" "I… suppose I... could…" Ford said quietly, as he slowly began to relax in place. "Hey, it's what I'm plannin' on doin', bein' a grunkly old man and all," Stan told his brother good-naturedly, and he waited until Ford looked up at him with a slight smile, "Eh? Eh?" as an answer to Stan's own one. Stan patted his brother on the shoulder and got up from the bunk, planning on shuffling over the few feet, to go right back to his own. (And he did. But Stan didn't fall asleep again himself until he heard the rustle of covers in the other bunk settle, and his brother's quiet breathing even out.) (It didn't take long but, to Stan, it felt like it maybe took longer than it should.) --- Meanwhile, Miz was wandering around the beach, having gotten herself a bit of breakfast in the ocean and was taking this time to clean up the beach. So many glass shards. So much trash. It was awful to look at. So she was cleaning up. There was no way she'd be able to get it all by hand, but she wasn't in the mood to use her powers for this. She was still feeling out the churning energy beneath her skin, it was a light tingle. Not uncomfortable, yet. Being bound down in a vessel like this generally made the feeling more noticable. Actually... Miz relaxed and let her physical form fall away. She stretched herself out and sighed. Really, this dimensional set felt so different. Everything was heavy. Contained. Restricted. Like the rules here were stricter. The AXOLOTL here must have set more limitations. Miz hadn't realized how much freedom her dad had really given her. She floated around in the Mindscape, relaxed and spread out so that her energy was free to buzz about without causing her any discomfort. She was pretty content right now. She'd gotten her breakfast by stealing some fish from the local fishing boats, that was enough to make her powers thrum cheerfully. So… the karma system huh? Made sense. Miz remembered her brother had mentioned it once before, during their chats over the blog. She twisted herself, buzzing somewhat as she floated along. Had she wasted enough time yet? Could she return to the boat yet? She sighed, shifting again, a he now. He flowed around, lazily Looking around, he could Feel everything. The underpinnings of this dimension. How it was built, how it was put together… how old, or rather, not old it was. "This Ax really created an entire new dimension just from…" Bill mumbled to himself. Well, MizBill. That would differentiate him from his big brother. Eh… having the same name was hard, wasn't it? MizBill sighed. He glanced up and wondered how long he was going to stay here. He loved being with his brother. But he missed home. Missed his friends and children. MizBill shook his head. It… it's fine. His friends and children were fine, he'll make his way back to them eventually. MizBill wondered if he could possibly bring his brother home with him. There had to be some way to do that... ...not forever, of course. MizBill hummed. Stan was… good for brother. Well, sort of. Stan obviously had his own plans for what he wanted with brother, but MizBill thought that despite that, it was more good than bad. Even if Stan didn't want Bill. MizBill sighed. He could tell. Even if Stan said he wanted Bill, it didn't mean he wanted him. Stan DID want Bill, but not in the way Bill thought... But that was fine. MizBill felt his form twist, if he had a body right now, he'd be smiling. Even if Stan didn't truly want Bill right now, that didn't mean he wouldn't eventually learn to want him. Humans pack bonded to just about anything. Especially if they were familiar. And if Bill and Stan were going to be spending time together (possibly eternity, if what MizBill was picking up was correct) then Stan would just start wanting Bill eventually. And it was all fine anyway. Stan was teaching brother, and teaching MizBill as well! And Stan was a good man. He wasn't perfect, but he was good for them. He helped them, on things that they didn't understand. And, well, that meant that he and his brother were using Stan to help them, just as Stan was using them. So, fair's fair and it was all fine. MizBill curled around in the air and wondered if things on the boat were okay now. He floated over to glance at it and saw Bill going back to flop down on the blankets. Ah, that should be fine then. "Little sis!" Bill called out, on his back in the blanket-pillow pile, all his limbs splayed out haphazardly from his sides as he stared up at the slowly lightening sky. "I am done with Stanley's thing now!" MizBill floated down, pulling himself back together into a more solidly defined mass of energy. Bill looked up, and saw his sister, and smiled. "What did Stan want?" MizBill asked, thrumming and humming as he settled onto the blankets, not quite ready to craft a new vessel yet. "Mm," said Bill, rubbing his left hand against the side of his head, near his left temple. "Wanted me to start doing some of the thing again, that I didn't want to do." He half-shifted, half-twisted in place a bit as he explained this, like he was trying to settle properly inside his own skin. Oh? "Was it an annoying thing?" MizBill asked, twisting their tendrils of energy and light around as they pulled themselves back in some more. Bill rolled over onto his side, to face him(? --bowtie meant 'him', yes?) and let out a sigh. "Yes. No." Bill pulled a slight face. "It's a necessary thing," he said a good bit more lowly, then added -- almost under his breath, because the porthole window behind him was open -- "I shouldn't have stopped doing the thing…" (Because, annoyingly, it had been more 'necessary' than he'd thought. --For that Stanford, at least. And for Stanley to not be getting angry enough with him to hit him maybe... which maybe could have still worked out, too...) Bill frowned. MizBill hummed, finally condensing himself back into a physical form, falling onto the soft pillows in his William form, a large single eye blinking at his brother. "Are you okay? Doing the thing again didn't hurt you or anything, did it?" "No," said Bill. "It didn't hurt me." And then he blinked at William slowly. "...You DO know what 'thing' I am talking about, right?" Bill said to his little sister, eyeing him. "I didn't Look to See what you were doing. I figured Stan wanted some privacy for whatever it was he wanted me to go away while he talked to you for." William blinked slowly. "I did feel a shift in energy again. I could probably make a guess as to what you did." Bill sighed. He should have just said he wasn't sure what he was talking about. "I reconnected a bit more strongly to that Stanford again," he said, sounding irritated and... also not. William rolled onto his side, pulling Iseblonker back to his chest. "Well, how are you feeling?" "Better than I was," Bill told him under his breath -- which, as far as he was concerned, was the IRRITATING THING! --He didn't need that Stanford! No! (...And yet...) Bill let out a huff of breath, and grabbed the nearest pillow, to bite it into submission (it only took TWO angry-bites this time; a record!) and then squeeze it with his stupid human-ish fingernail-'claws' very strongly. He glared out over it, kicking his feet against the blankets around him slightly, before slumping down against the flat of the blanket-covered deck all-at-once. "Nnn-nn." William shuffled closer. "You know, sometimes, even if we don't like someone, they might still be worth something, to have them with you." William said softly. "I've had a few clients like that. People I didn't like, but wanted on my side for various reasons." "--I know that!" Bill said to him, then scoffed. "A few clients. HA." As far as Bill was concerned, that was EVERYONE except Liam and--. William shrugged. "I've had some clients I actually liked. A few are even friends." Speaking of which, it'd been a while since he'd got to visit Queen, should go do that. Bill grumbled to himself, as he curled 'finger claws' into the pillow a bit more, uncurled and curled them again, and... "I have plenty of friends who are like that; I like them," Bill told him. Well, except for Kryptos, who was annoying, but still useful, and still a friend. He'd also had plenty of friends who he didn't like who were useful, and a few friends and worshippers here and there that weren't all that useful, but who he had still liked. But the one thing they all had in common was that… "They NEVER last, though." Bill frowned. Because, sooner or later, they always turned on him. --And yes, his latest Henchmaniacs gang was a little different, sure; they'd gone on longer than ANY of the others before them, but IT WAS ONLY A MATTER OF TIME… "That's sad. Not having them last. Sounds lonely." William stretched to get more comfortable. They had a few more hours before they should get up for school. For a second, he wanted to skip, the nest was so comfortable, he didn't really want to get up. But they had school, he had to watch the kids and make sure they didn't skip, and then they were doing the dragon plan after school. "I'm not lonely!" declared Bill. "Define: 'lonely'." He bet he wasn't, whatever William thought it was. (His sister had strange definitions for things sometimes -- and they weren't always old-human definitions, either!) "...wanting to have someone by your side, but not having anyone." William said. "Or missing someone who you want by your side, but they're not there." "Mm." WELL. Bill wanted to have Liam by his side, but he had Miz! And Stanley. And his Henchmaniacs! --So he wasn't the first one of those. The second one, though... "So," Bill said, "Stanley and that Stanford are oh-so-lonely by your second 'define'," Bill said, "Because Pine Tree and Shooting Star aren't here with them!" That didn't sound right. Stanley had that Stanford, and that Stanford had Stanley. Twins together were never alone. --This DEFINITELY wasn't a human definition; it must be Miz's own personal one. (Bill made a note of that.) "...they just don't realize it, probably." William blinked. "I'm sure Stan misses the kids, he's just too busy dealing with this other set of kids to really think about it." "HM," said Bill. "Then it's good that we'll all be going back soon," Bill noted, as he let go of the pillow, and settled down into the blankets a bit better, in a way more conducive for sleeping. (School was hours-away, and he was tired, and he wanted more sleep! So he would sleep more-again-soon.) "Yeah. Dipper's gonna have a panic attack if we don't get their grunkles back to them." William sighed. "Can't believe Mabel tried to grapple hook through the portal." He saw that Bill's eyes were already drooping. He must be tired. William made a note to cook a nice, hearty breakfast for his brother in a few hours. "Need to get that for her," Bill noted, in a half-mumble. "Shooting Star will want it back." She'd only lost a few feet off of it; she could just remove the short-end rope piece from the hook, and tie the hook back to what was left on the other side and still attached to the grappling gun. "I grabbed it." William said. He'd found it while he was cleaning the beach earlier. How the heck no one had thought to pick up and move that dangerous sharp object was just more proof to him that the humans here didn't give a shit about the litter. "Good," Bill said, "Thank you." And then he let out a long, slow breath in something that was almost a sigh. "You should sleep more-again too," Bill told her, as he shoved the bitten-pillow away, and shifted in place a bit. "Okay." William closed his eye and wiggled over to press against his brother. "I'll make a nice breakfast in a few hours…" He relaxed. "...you know I had the weirdest dream about a table. He was a person and PaciFire's eyebrows were dating the Federation…" His breathing slowed as he drifted off to sleep. Bill smiled. He let out a soft 'hummmm' of acknowledgment, and he fell back asleep again pretty quickly after that. (After all, William was warm, and Bill knew where his little sister was -- there with him, and safe because of it.) --- Lee was a little intimidated by the amount of food in front of them. "Ah… did you… make all this?" he asked the weird looking yellow cyclops creature sitting in front of him who had to be Miz. The cyclops nodded at him. "I made it for all of you. But if you don't want it, then I can eat the extras." Stan shrugged. "And if you don't wanna eat William's cooking, I'm gonna be making some eggs and bacon." He'd asked what the younger demon wanted to be called in this form (since he hadn't really memorized the names-spiel the first time Miz had said it), and they'd responded with 'William' -- which, y'know, made Ford pretty annoyed (because what didn't these days), but Stan didn't care either way. He was already frying up some bacon, shoving a plate of sunny-side-up eggs at his brother. "I made some roasted carrots and potatoes with some spicy pepper sauce, for brother --" William pointed at the bowl that Bill was already digging into, "-- and some omelettes stuffed with the remaining carrots and potatoes for you." He grinned. "And diced sausages. Since at least you guys eat meat." Sixer took the offered plate and sat down to eat. "It's delicious, like everything else you make," he made it a point to tell the younger demon after only one mouthful, which had William turning orange and looking both pleased and embarrassed. Ford ate what Stan made. Lee couldn't help but take one of the omelettes, despite all the glaring from the old-man Sixer. --What? It looked good. It smelled even better. And he'd already eaten the demon's cooking during lunch a few times already with nothing bad happening, not even a stomach ache, so hey, he was inclined to just eat the yummy food and be done with it. No sense in letting it go to waste here! (And with the way the dragon-lady ate stuff like she had a black hole in her stomach, Lee figured leaving it all for her to eat would be a waste.) Breakfast was a pretty quiet affair, with the older Ford sending all sorts of weird long unreadable looks at the two demons that Lee couldn't really decipher, and everybody else being too busy eating to really talk that morning. It worried Lee a little bit, but he didn't get to ask about it as he, his brother, and the demons had to finish up quickly and rush out the door, making their way to school. ...Look, good tasting food was good tasting food. Lee wasn't knocking it. He just wanted to know why the older Sixer would. He hadn't really explained it before, just said not to do it (and sounded a little crazy as he yelled it out there). And the way he'd been looking at Bill today at breakfast... --- There were even more whispers around the school Friday morning. Miz, in her teenage female form for real this time (having changed back on the walk to school), told Lee not to worry about it. "Besides, once you two become monster hunters, there'll be even MORE whispering." Ah, well… Lee was sure she told him that to make him feel better, but it didn't really make Lee feel any better. He did want to be a monster hunter, sure! But... he kind of worried about what would happen in school if he did manage to pull it off after school today with his brother. Actually... 'monster hunter' was probably a cooler thing than 'alien baby sitter', so... And it was really weird, but... despite all the rumors and whispering and junk, Lee was surprised to see that school was almost… normal today. Nobody was really treating him or Sixer any differently than they had the week before -- other than, y'know, all the whispering, and them also having two girls hanging around with them now. And the demons were super weird as always, but it almost seemed like everyone had… gotten used to it? --Heck, the most outrageous thing that happened today was Miz spotting Ben in the halls and waving to him with a cheerful "Hi Ben!" which got the poor guy blushing profusely and walking into a wall. Lee noted that he still had that violin. ...And a bunch of other boys ran up to Ben to grill him for information about why the 'hot one' was talking to him. Lee didn't really get it. What Lee did realize was why Ben carried the violin with him everywhere, never letting it leave his sight -- it was because when he was carrying it, the boys around him weren't really able to get all that close; not close enough to touch him, or grab him. The violin was even glowing softly, so faint that Lee wouldn't have seen it if he hadn't been looking for it. It almost looked like that magic barrier thingie that Miz had placed over him and Sixer. Lee looked over at her, wondering if she knew… and Miz commented absently, "He gets picked on a lot. But I kinda like him so he gets a small Blessing." Bill turned to his sister. "For free?" he asked, frowning slightly. (He was worried about her karmic backlash problem.) Miz scoffed. "Naw, he entertained me. That's payment enough." (Bill let out a short breath upon hearing this.) Sixer glanced between the two of them. "Payment?" Bill sighed, looking a little annoyed as he said (almost dourly), "Karma system," thinking over the list of stuff Miz had written down about her issues. There WERE a lot of problematic things there, Bill had to admit -- and they WOULD work on all of them! -- but mainly, it looked like at least half of Miz's written-down problems stemmed from the fact that she seemed to be plugged into the Karma system directly. And right now, as a part of that, she needed payment in exchange for things she did for people, in order to avoid 'direct retribution' things like the itching.