[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

[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?

[mviw]

[... oh. It's true, they're not often Really Alright (if ever these days, now that he thinks about it) but that's not the point.]

... thanks for telling me. [And he just leaves it at that. He appreciates their honesty, but there's no need to make a Thing out of it.]

And me? I'll be fine. [Which doesn't mean he IS fine, only that he's bent on survival. They were just honest with him though, so shouldn't he be honest too?]

But uh... I'm not fine right now.

[determinedest]

[They're being honest. That's...good, isn't it? Both of them, being honest with each other. Saying what they mean. Saying when they're okay, and saying when they're not. He's not fine, and neither are they.

That's how they start.]

Bill?

[mviw]

[Well, at least they know.] ... Yeah. Bill. All signs pointed to him being gone.

[Ford rubs the back of his neck.]

I'm sorry I couldn't help Mettaton more quickly. I already spoke to him, but... being the resident expert on Bill, you would think.... [That he wouldn't be so God awful at battling him. He trails off and clears his throat.]

Anyway...

[determinedest]

[It was Mettaton in danger. Of course they knew.]

You couldn't have known.

[He was gone. And it's not like he's someone people chat with regularly, whose absence would've been visible, whose contact would have vanished from the phones. And then when he was back, it was utterly without warning.

Probably exactly how Bill likes it.]

[mviw]

I know. But all the same, I should have done more. He's gone at home--for good. Someday, he'll be gone for good here too.

[determinedest]

Someday.

[Everything ends eventually, doesn't it? They will, one day. They'll...fade, eventually. And it'll be okay. Maybe someday they'll be able to without hurting anyone.]

You didn't bring him here. You didn't make him do anything.

[mviw]

No, but I was complacent. I started to think of him as not as much of a threat, and I didn't think anyone would be foolish enough to make a deal with him.

[Like he did over thirty years ago. The deal in Neverland doesn't count.]

I want to be able to protect people from him. [He feels like Bill is his burden to bear and shouldn't be anyone else's.]

[determinedest]

[Foolish enough. Is that how it happened? Mettaton - did he make a deal? Did he know Bill well enough for that? What for, and why? In exchange for what?

What would he exchange that for?]

You can't.

[He...can't.

The breath catches in their throat. A small word, a horrible thing to say to anyone, a small, brief refutation. But he can't. He can't. You can't SAVE everyone. You can't help everyone. Sometimes it isn't your fault.

Sometimes terrible things happen, and all you can do is not kill, and not be killed.]

No can SAVE everyone.

[mviw]

... [He knows he can't, but...] I have to try. It'd be nice if I could save just one person, though.

[determinedest]

What happened to Mettaton wasn't your fault.

[If Mettaton made a deal, or if his Mirror had something to do with it, or if Bill simply hijacked his body - that's just how the events unfolded. That's just...how it is. No one can SAVE everyone.

No one can SAVE everyone.]

[mviw]

Of course it wasn't! And I still couldn't do anything about it. What if Bill achieves his real physical form here during an event? The one that can warp reality? He'll go after everyone I love--Stanley, the kids, Alphys--you...

[...Well. That was a little raw display.

Ford draws in on himself and turns to the side, folding his arms at his back. The thought of being helpless again is both chilling and nauseating. He doesn't want them to see him be even more upset.]

... that would be my fault. I would do anything to keep all of you safe from Bill.

[Literally anything.]

[determinedest]

[Their mouth irons into a thin, uncompromising line, the longer he goes on. The more he insists it would be his fault, that he'd be utterly incapable of stopping it. As if they'd be helpless, hapless in the face of Bill's capabilities. As if they haven't faced things like him before and won.]

We'd FIGHT back.

[The words are stern, matching the squared set of their shoulders.]

We'd always FIGHT back.

If he...if he tries to hurt you or, or anyone else, he - that's his fault. ["For being a butt," they almost add. But they'd be...that'd be out of place. Too childish. Try harder.] Not yours.

YOU SHOULD'VE SAID IT FRISK HE WOULD'VE LAUGHED LIKE REALLY HARD

[mviw]

[He turns to face them again, looking apologetic. He knows they can fight. It's just...]

...I know. [He relents a little.] You're right. [Ford leans on the shelf and slides down to sit, legs crossed.]

I know I wouldn't have to fight him alone. [Not being alone is surprisingly difficult to get used to.] That's still a new concept for me, I guess.

-_-

[determinedest]

You're not alone anymore.

[It takes some getting used to. They'd know. They've...learned that, even if it was hard. Even if it claws and cloyed at them, and they resisted it, slapped every reaching hand away, convinced that nothing would ever come of it.]

...it's hard. I know.

[* And everybody came.

And still, they resisted with everything the had.]

c:

[mviw]

[It's hard, but he smiles and slowly reaches out to rest a gentle hand on their shoulder. He's not too hesitating, but he makes sure he's not taking them by surprise.]

It's nice to know someone understands.

[determinedest]

[It's okay. He...he knows how they are, how they can be, and he's careful with it. He's gentle. It prompts something small - a little twitch of a smile, a smoothing of the hard, strained lines of their face.]

You get so used to nobody ever coming, you forget that you can even call for help.

[mviw]

[He nods.] Exactly. And when someone does come to help, it feels almost too good to be true. It's hard to be happy when you think they shouldn't be there, or don't even want to be.

I try to remind myself that worrying about those things won't help me or them. And, y'know, what you tell yourself can actually change your perception of reality if you repeat it often enough.

Sometimes it's just hard to accept, but... it gets a little easier with time.

[determinedest]

[You look for the way out. You look for...for another shoe to drop. For an indication that they don't really mean it, that they're not being serious, that it's not going to mean anything. That it's an empty promise that's never going to go anywhere.

You look for a way out because expecting disappointment hurts less than the knowledge that nobody really came.]

It will.

[It's a promise they, perhaps, can't really make.

But they can try.]

We're not letting him hurt us. Or you.

[mviw]

[Ford gently nudges their upper arm with his knuckles. It's an automatic reaction of affection he has with Stan and the kids. Frisk has been Blessed.]

Aw, kid... [His face falls just a little, even though the smile persists.] It's alright if he does. It's not that I think I deserve it [haha well] it's more of a certainty in dealing with him, you know?

...but... thank you. We'll be looking out for each other. That's pretty reassuring to me.

[determinedest]

[A playful bump of knuckles to arm, and Frisk grins faintly, a crinkling in the corners of their eyes, an incremental release of the pressure, the dark lines around their eyes, furrowing their brow.]

You don't deserve it. No one deserves it.

[No one deserves it.

They're maybe...maybe surprised, a little, to discover that that's true.]

[mviw]

[His heart lifts at seeing them smile, and hearing them say something like that.]

It's true; no one does. Still hard to shake that feeling though, isn't it? [Ford sighs softly, but it's a sign of his emotions settling just a bit.]

I wish I could bottle Bill up and deal with him on my own. I still fear that my actions toward him could be a catalyst that only made things worse.

Who knows? I could be wrong--that's something I've been getting used to, lately.

[determinedest]

Doesn't matter.

[For all that they've been trying, trying to think about consequences, and how that works - their constant shadow being the guilt that's latched itself to their SOUL like a leech - a fear of consequence doesn't always translate to something that makes things better.]

Whatever you did...doesn't make it better to feel bad about it. [A slight grimace as they swallow. Are they making another mistake? They are, aren't they?]

If there's consequences, we...we do what we can. Doesn't matter if you made things worse. Can't change anything now.

Just - just try and make things better for later.

[mviw]

[With a gentle laugh, Ford recalls saying similar things to Frisk.]

... you know what's funny? You're giving me the same advice I've given you. [...] It's good. I really.... I needed that.