[OPEN] & [CLOSED] "Am I awake? Is it that time again? Wasn't it already then?"

[mviw]

Who: Ford & Stan; Ford & Fiddleford; Ford & YOU?
Where: VARIOUS PLACES
When: 4/18-19
Rating: Preemptive PG-13 for language and heavy themes (chiefly PTSD).
Summary: For the first time in his life, Stanford actually reaches out to people for help.
The Story:

OPEN TO ALL: THE LIBRARY

[There is little more comforting for Stanford than the unconditional embrace of knowledge, gently bound in books stored in tall shelves organized in orderly rows.

He's found a corner in the library, tried to settle there, but his mood directs him to restlessly wander the quiet aisles with his nose in the pages of a book. He glances up to watch for any obstacles in his path--wouldn't want to run into anyone or anything, of course.

Still, the knowledge so freely offered brings no actual warmth, nor does it truly guard against what worries him. As Ford wanders, his eyes scan the aisles and look weary; his appearance, generally ruffled.

One thought continues to make its presence known in his head, always drifting back from his conscious periphery like an unwelcome bit of dust: Bill is back. He's back, and although Ford hoped his absence would be permanent, he knew he wasn't lucky enough for that to be true. Bill's reentering into Wonderland still fell like a heavy blow--heavier than even Ford anticipated. He wonders why it's affecting him this way when this time he hadn't even been the victim.

He hadn't been hurt. Mettaton had done all the fighting.

What do YOU have to worry about? You're fine, you're unscathed. Why are you letting this drag you under?

Some questions can't be answered by reading hundreds of books, unfortunately.

Wandering the library, Ford is very much an old owl making the rounds among the trees of shelves. He tries in vain to find solace between numerous pages.]

CLOSED PROMPTS BELOW THE CUT...


FOR STAN:

[There had been a panicked call from Alphys and several distressing conversations following that. By the time Ford and Alphys had even really prepared anything to help Mettaton, the robot didn't even need help. Ford wondered if Stanley even saw the mess on the network.

Did it really matter?

Ford had already told his brother and his best friend about Bill being conspicuously absent from Wonderland. And now this. And Ford, trained in the art of revenge, had fallen so readily back into the chaotic fold.

He knocks on Stanley's door that evening rather unceremoniously.]

Stanley.

[... Funny how things turn out. Six months ago in Wonderland, he wouldn't have thought of coming to Stan for something like this. He would have collected himself into his figurative stronghold until Stan would inevitably pry him out again.

Now, Ford can hardly stand the thought of spending another moment alone, isolated.

What a luxury to have his brother as a constant, like when they were children.

He knocks again.]

Hey, Knucklehead.

[Stanford needs to hold himself together. He can't do it alone. Not this time.]

***

FOR FIDDLEFORD:

[It's been about a day since that incident with Mettaton. Ford has been awake since the day before. Quite restlessly, his feet carry him down the hall to another hopeful refuge come mid-morning--straight to Fiddleford's room. He isn't entirely sure what he plans to accomplish here, and he asks himself, Am I overthinking this? But he already knows the answer:

Probably.

Stanford knocks. He's so exhausted, he leans against the wall near the door frame.

Ford may as well be a blanket where someone has pulled enough of its thread until the solid shape unravels, leaving holes and an empty attempt at being what it's meant to be.

He tried burying himself in calculations for his theories on Wonderland--that only lasted him six hours. He tried working on more inventions, but every single design and idea he scrapped.

Maybe... it was at the point that he realized he'd lost pleasure in doing what he loved most that he'd laid his pen to temporary rest and went to see his colleague down the corridor.

Maybe he wanted a little gentle familiarity and a reminder to stay strong that wasn't abstract thought.]

... Fiddleford? It's Stanford...

Are you there?

Comments

runs right in here

[sciencelizard]

[She's exhausted.

If she had the time to think about it, it's not the word she'd have chose. Exhausted implies there was something to deplete (as if her energy had ever been full) and that she was finished (which she most certainly was not). Sometimes, problems fall out of the sky. Sometimes, things you've been avoiding for a long time come to a head with your best friend.

So she resolves something. That she's not losing another best friend. That she's not going to ignore this problem to get bigger and bigger behind closed doors.

It's been a year. It's time she do better.

She looks around for him, at his room, in tearooms, quiet spaces she knows he'll take refuge, until she spots his coat flutter behind a bookshelf and she follows quietly to where he's built his escape.]

... Ford? Uhm... h-hey.

opens arms for a hug

[mviw]

[...He's been avoiding Alphys lately. It hasn't been out of malice or a lack of a desire to be her friend. In fact, he misses her. He hasn't been giving her a cold shoulder of course, but he hasn't gone out of his way to interact.

They've both been busy with... whatever it is they usually do, plus the torments of Wonderland are sometimes actually convenient distractions. Who has time to keep up with social expectations when reality changes on an almost weekly basis?

... but he does miss her. He's glad to see her outside the context of something dangerous happening.

Her, Stan's and Fiddleford's nightmares stung him the most out of the rest; perhaps hers more so in a way that made talking to her about it especially difficult. Sometimes, the image of her peering at him as though he was a tiny figure under a microscope is one he can't get out of his head no matter how hard he pushes it away.

But it was just a nightmare, and she really is his friend. That's why when she rounds a corner and greets him, his smile is genuine (if tired).]

... Hello Alphys.

CRASHES INTO UR CHEST FOR THE HUG

[sciencelizard]

[She smiles, and she means it. Running to him shrieking was not the way she wanted to re-initiate contact after a bunch of time apart.]

Hey. Uh, sorry, I already, uhm, said that, I just... yeah.

[Very smooth. She reaches across her body, rubs at her bicep with her other arm, slides the hand down to the elbow jut out of habit.]

You, uh, you look busy, but I wanted to, uhm... say something, after, uh. Everything that h-happened? With Mettaton recently.

[determinedest]

[Some kind of desperate search for meaning, in the wake of Bill's tumultuous re-entrance into Wonderland. A way to pick apart what happened and why, and whether they can keep it from happening again. (They can't.) Mettaton might be safe from one threat, but there's the second one Sans mentioned, there's his Mirror, and that's not as easy to dismiss or detach. Beating Bill seems, comparatively, infinitely easier, simply because they know that it can be done.

They find someone in the library, and it's not a terrible surprise once they realize who it is.

Trying to contort their expression into a smile seems like too much work, right now. But it's easy to end up a step or two behind him, like maybe this time they can make things...easier than they usually do. Help people, instead of always needing to be helped.]

Ford? [Wait. No. Wrong. The word feels foreign, even now. Like they shouldn't pretend they have a right to it.] Um...Grunkle?

[mviw]

[Ford is very aware of his surroundings, but when he notices a very quiet child approaching, he doesn't slip to another aisle. He knows them. He feels vulnerable, but he knows they're not a threat--where many others would be.]

Hey, kiddo. [He cracks a little smile.] You can call me Ford, if that's easier. Or Grunkle Ford. [He's not picky, but their little correction is heartwarming.]

Doing alright today?

[determinedest]

Yeah.

[Not really. Immediately, their shoulders hitch, and their teeth worry at their lower lip when they can't quite meet his gaze.]

...no. [But that's not why they're here. That's not what they came to see. They're never really "okay," and that's...okay. Fine. Better, even. Better them than someone else.] Are you?

[mcgucket]

[Honestly, Fiddleford shouldn't be so surprised that Stanford would want to talk to him after Bill's sudden and hostile return (after having just told us that the demon was gone, even), but it doesn't stop him from startling at the knock to the door.

Before he approaches the door, Fiddleford takes a very quick, hasty look around to make sure it looks... normal, sane. This involves sliding the memory gun into a locked drawer, shoving some papers out of sight, making sure there are no mirrors around... yes, good, it should be safe to let Stanford inside, should he want to come in.]

Yes, I'm here. [He undoes the locks before opening the door... and upon taking one look at Stanford, he frowns.]

Are... are you alright, Stanford?

[Actually that's probably a stupid question but it's better than just staring at his friend and not saying anything.]

[mviw]

[Although the wording is technically very redundant, Ford understands what Fidds means. He braves a little smile.]

... No. I'm not. If you're up for it, I think I need some good company.

[He'd made eye contact when Fiddleford opened the door, but now his gaze drifts off to the side, focusing on nothing in particular.]

[mcgucket]

Yes, of course. Um, come in, come in...

[Fiddleford opens the door wider to allow his friend entry, and upon entering, Stanford will find that while some things are about the same as the last time he sat in here, it now at least looks a little more... lived in by comparison to how sparse it was before. A couple books, tools on a desk, a banjo in the corner... things to do that are not just sitting around writing notes about his paranoid thoughts, so that must be an improvement, right...?

And before Ford even has to say anything, he's already getting a cup of something warm (not coffee, but hot chocolate as Stanford will find--Fiddleford's almost certain that Stanford probably hasn't slept in the past few days and more coffee wouldn't help) being pushed into his hands here.]

To be honest, I kinda had a feelin' I might be seein' ya, so I figured it'd be a good idea to make an extra cup today.

[naughty_nurse]

[When not in the clinic, Mikan is normally in the library. She is usually there reading up on all the type of species and creatures that live in Wonderland so she can take care of them. But today she's throwing books around frantically, tears running down her face.]

Robotic, dreams, I need robotics and dreams, and demons, and, and and...

[She can't let this happen again, Mettaton had said she had helped him but when he needed her, truly needed anyone, she hadn't been able to do anything. She chokes out a sob, grabbing a book and pulling it out so hard and fast that she bumps into ford.]

Eek!

[mviw]

[Ford had just rounded the corner after hearing how upset Mikan is and hadn't expected her to be right there in his proximity.

He reaches out and helps steady her by her shoulders, making sure to be gentle when he does.]

Mikan! Mikan, what's wrong?

[naughty_nurse]

M-Mister Pines!

[Hiccup! She wipes her face, dropping her books, still a mess.]

I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to b-bother you, I'll, I'll take my books and go...

[punful]

[Sans saw Ford head into the library. After debating it with himself for awhile, he follows him in. It's not fair to Dipper and Mabel to just rely on them for Bill information. Especially not when there's someone else who's an actual expert.]

[Ford looks kind of exhausted, though, so Sans hesitates before he approaches him. It's fine. He needs information, and he'll make this quick.]

hey. sorry to bug ya. can we talk for a sec?

[mviw]

[Ford looks a bit surprised and is, but not unpleasantly so.]

Certainly! You're not bugging me. I could use with a little distraction. [He faces Sans, posture high, hands folded at his back... but God does he look like he hasn't slept in days (because he hasn't).]

[punful]

[Sans can't always tell with humans, but Ford just...does not look good. The symptoms of exhaustion seem to be kind of the same across the board from species to species.]

...uh, well. problem is, i don't think it'd be much a distraction. it's about bill.

i could, uh, message you later or something if you want.

[wriggedywrecked]

[Rick is here just minding his own goddamn business, searching the fiction section for Choose Your Own Adventure books. Why? Fuck you is why.]

[He spots Ford through the aisles looking all sad or whatever and honestly, the right thing to do would be to leave him alone, but Rick tries to never do the right thing, so he goes over to him and sticks his head out from behind a shelf.]

So hey, d-did you know the isosceles motherfucker c-could possess robots too, o-or was that a surprise? Because damn, that was some, some ghost in the machine bullshit right there.

[He has no idea how right he actually is hahahah.]

[mviw]

[Ford's first response is a long and weary sigh. THIS asshole.]

Yes, Rick, Bill can possess things with minds. He's a dream demon, that's his schtick.

[wriggedywrecked]

Wow, okay, d-don't get pissy over a simple question, holy shit. Y-You never said sapience was the key factor. Just the ability to dream.

Though maybe that guy dreams of electric sheep or some shit, I dunno.

[literalidiotball]

[Wheatley was going into the library to read (or at least pretend to read without arms to flip pages with) when he notices one of the other patrons has 12 fingers instead of 10.]

[He has never seen anyone with actual fingers before. He's gonna ask.]

Ah- Excuse me. I didn't mean to bother you while you're reading, but... What do you call that extra finger you got on your hand, there? The 2nd pinky? Also, can you actually move it?

Not trying to be rude here, just wondering.

[mviw]

[Ford turns, eyebrows raised. He recognizes that voice!]

Oh, hello Wheatley.

And, uh... Given that you're a machine, I'd say this is a fair line of questioning. My extra digits are a condition of post-axial polydactyly. [He wiggles all twelve fingers.]

I just refer to them as pinkies.

[literalidiotball]

[Wheatley recognizes that voice too! And he's not mistaken this time!]

Oh! Doctor Pines! I- Wow.

[Those fingers are mesmerizing.]

Wooooah. Spiffy. I had no idea you had those- I guess you learn something new every day, huh?

[uncaging]

[Elizabeth almost runs right into him, not really paying much attention to what's right in front of her as she peers around shelves and into nooks and crannies, having heard that he'd been seen heading into the library and needing to find him. When she realises that Ford's right there, she jumps in surprise and knocks a few books flying.]

Oh! Dr Pines, I'm so sorry. Are you all right? I was looking for you.

[mviw]

[Ford immediately bends to scoop the books into his arms.]

You and at least three other people. [It's said with a tone of amusement, despite how tired he is.]

I'm guessing you saw what happened on the network.

Action!

[charlastan]

[Honestly? He's been trying to stay out of it. The safest thing he could possibly do is ignore Bill's temper tantrum and wait him out until he gives up. It's not like they have the means to do anything about Bill, so their best chance is caution. It's not even that shocking that Bill's back, in Stan's opinion.

("Huh. Some 'town hero' you are," he can't help thinking.)

But, thinking it doesn't really change anything. Eventually it ends and Bill gets out of the damn robot, and all is well...unless you're Ford. Before Stan even has time to worry about Ford's well-being, there he is at Stan's door. Stan's still pushing himself up from his arm chair when Ford knocks a second time.]

I'm comin', I'm comin'! Hold your horses!

[Freeloader beats him to the punch and lays himself flat against the floor, trying to peek out under the door. Since Stan can't open the door without smacking the cat in the face, he scoops him right up first - and Freeloader responds by squirming uncooperatively.]

Uh. Hey, Ford. ...You alright? You kinda look like shit.

[Not the most tactful greeting, but Ford does have that restless edge to him and the sentiment comes entirely from a place of caring, even if it's poorly worded.]

[mviw]

[...Thanks, Stanley.]

Thank you, Stanley. I feel like shit.

Are you sure this isn't a bad time?

[He eyes the squirming cat. Good luck with those gorilla hands of his brother's, little buddy.]