Chapter Text
The wind blew over the waves, scattering sea salt across the waters and over the sail. The sun shined its warm rays, no cloud covering it. Stanley leaned over the railways, contentedly sipping on the last of his Pitt Cola. Although he and his brother Stanford set out to find the adventure they have always dreamed of as kids, he finds happiness in peaceful moments like these, watching the clouds drift over them and the ocean. Perhaps it’s the result of going on too many trips through danger and, the more likely theory, a result of growing old.
Stan decided to shrug that last thought off. He’s still got a couple years left. He won’t let go of his life without a fight, not before seeing more experiences of what the world has to offer. Plus, Dipper and Mabel still haven’t gone past their milestones in life: going to prom, graduating high school, going to college, maybe even getting married and having kids. Yeah, he’ll still be around for that. Ford can cook up some immortality science thingamajig. Or maybe that’s a bad idea and he should just accept fate or whatever. Perhaps he should instead start eating some carrots and lift more weights. Ford has always griped at him about that.
His intuition skills must be flying off the charts because at that thought of Ford, Stanley heard him call out.
“Stanley! I’m about to cook up some dinner but that means we’ll be using up our last supply of fish! Can you catch some?”
“Sure thing, Sixer!” Stanley called back. He finished up the last of his drink before crushing it and tossing it into the bin. After grabbing up his fisherman gear and a chair, Stanley hooked his line out to the waters and played the waiting game. Which… took a little longer than he thought it would. Actually, nothing even happened. Not until he noticed a pink glow and some storm clouds approaching them.
“Uhhhh…. Ford??” Stanley called. “You might wanna see this!” Stanford heard the edge in his voice and ran over with a weapon ready. But instead of facing a sea creature, Stanford saw the same pink glow his brother is seeing.
“What is that?” He said, adjusting his glasses. Could it be a trick of the light? The only thing different after fixing his vision is that that aura is even closer along with the dark clouds covering it.
“I’m gonna fix the sails and reorganize some shit,” said Stanley before running off. Stanford merely nodded before bracing himself to face another anomaly. He was hoping that this week would be peaceful but it seems that weirdness keeps happening left and right. It’s as if Gravity Falls own weirdness magnetism has rubbed off of him and he is suffering its effects. He walked back to the inside of the cabin and finished cooking dinner, hoping they would at least have time to eat it all.
Dinner was more grim than usual. The two ate as quickly as they can, not bothering to savor their meal, and they cleaned up right after it. They needed to be prepared before the storm hits and they especially need their energy now if they are risking any sort of sleep for the sake of keeping their ship and themselves safe. With the last dish dried and put away in safekeeping, no risk of breaking from tumbling around, Stan and Ford brought out some gear, weapons, protection, protein bars to keep their energy high, a journal to record any findings, and a camera in case something funny happens out of this mayhem. Hopefully, anyways.
They stood near the railing, ready for the worst to happen. The storm was only a couple moments away, the pink aura, now realized as pink waters, approaching closer and closer at lightening speed.
“Ford, have you ever seen anything like this?” Stanley asked, glancing at Ford.
“No. I’m afraid this is new to me,” muttered Ford, not breaking his gaze from the view.
“Shit, then we’re screwed,” grumbled Stan. If Ford doesn’t know what this is, then he wouldn’t know how to handle it and they’ll all die. At least it will be an epic death and they’ll be remembered as heroes. Silver lining.
“Don’t worry, Stanley,” said Ford, trying to cheer up his brother with a pat on his shoulder. “If anything, this could be a new discovery!”
“If we’ll make it out alive,” said Stanley, though the smirk was undeniable.
“Knowing you, you wouldn’t be going down without a fight,” said Ford. They shared a laugh, before watching the danger approach closer, a mere seconds before it would hit them.
“You ready?” asked Ford, readying his gear and glancing at his brother with a smile.
“Like hell I am,” said Stanley, though his stance was the same. A weapon ready and a smile, prepared to face their doom.
The waters washed under them, the color glowing bright, nearly blinding them. The storm clouds blew over but without rain. It was merely dark and gloomy and depressing.
“…Huh. I… thought that would be a lot more terrible,” said Stanley, looking up at the clouds, surprised there was no rain or hail or acid. Ford was surprised too, despite the fact they didn’t see any coming, though it never appeared there would be any at all. But Ford thought that sometimes it’s best to expect the worst so that you’re not caught unprepared.
Ford looked over the railing and watched the glow of the deep ocean, completely pink in hue.
“I’m going to collect a sample,” Ford said, wide-eyed in awe.
“Yeah? How you gonna know it’s not poisonous?” growled Stanley. Is this really the time to act all nerdy instead of turning the boat away from the danger?
“By collecting a sample of it, Stanley,” Ford muttered angrily at him.
“Hey, at least put on some gloves first. I don’t want you to lose a finger and become normal,” Stan said as he shoved a pair of six-fingered gloves at Ford. Ford glared down at these before looking up at him with a smile. Why must he act like such a grouch all the time when he is really such a softie? Ford knows why and has never bothered to change Stan’s inconveniencing little quirk. He accepts the gloves with a smile.
“I won’t lose a finger and become normal, Stanley,” said Ford. “You stay here and keep an eye on the waters while I go fetch some vials and a rope.”
“Aye aye, Captain Sixer,” Stan said, saluting Ford. As Ford went off to fetch said materials, Stan looked over to the sea, worrying about what kind of horrible things are going on to cause all this mess. A curse? Monster blood? Alien goop? Climate change? Whatever it was, it was giving him the willies. He rubbed his arm as an attempt to soothe his nerves.
Stanford came back with gear at the ready and tied the rope at a hook attached to the wall of the cabin. After making sure it was secure, he handed the rope to Stanley.
“Make sure this doesn’t rip,” he said.
“Gotcha,” Stanley replied as he grasped it in his calloused hands. Ford slipped on his specially tailored gloves made of carbon fiber and cotton and hoisted himself over the ship with the athleticism of an expert rock climber. With the rope secured to the belt on his waist, Ford used his hands and slid down closer and closer to the surface of the ocean. He let go with one hand to fish out a glass bottle from his pocket and slowly, carefully dipped the bottle into the waters. The lip of the container gently dropped into the water’s surface, the pink liquid flowing in. Ford turned his hand, gradually allowing the water to pour in and fill the vessel up.
The bottle was almost full when a loud bang of thunder roared across the sea and startled Ford, too focused on his mission, and accidentally slipped the tips of his gloved fingers down into the waters. He heard sizzling and immediately dropped the vial and looked down at his hand. The pink water is acidic after all. Ford gripped the edge of his glove in his teeth and tore it away, pulled the rope attached to his waist twice.
“Stanley!” Ford shouted, a bit muffled with the glove in his mouth, but Stan didn’t need to hear his exact words to know that Ford was in trouble and needed to get back up now. He gripped the rope and with all his strength, he quickly pulled Ford back over the boat.
“Ford! Are you alright? What happened?” Stanley yelled as he looked over Ford, clearly panicked at the thought that Ford did hurt himself. The exact thing he was worried about. He looked at his bare hand and saw that it was okay, no signs of injury anywhere. Ford took the glove out from his teeth and presented it to Stan.
“Look,” was all he said. And Stan saw that the acid had burned its way through the fingers, turning it into a fingerless glove. Stanford had managed to get it off just in time before it could damage his own hand.
“Holy shit,” Stanley breathed out. “You nearly did lose a finger.”
“It was as you said, Stanley. These waters are not safe,” Ford put the glove down and unbuckled the rope from his belt. “I’m going to need to layer the toughest of my gloves over my hands to ensure that I can collect a sample without getting hurt.”
“What about the bottle? That shit just might burn it through,” Stan mentioned.
“Don’t worry, Stanley,” Ford assured. “If I use the right one, the sample will be safe inside there.”
“You always say that before something bad is about to happen,” Stan growled, crossing his arms. Ford could only laugh a bit nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Well, it’s worth a shot.”
A moment of thoughtful silence has passed as Ford put away his gear and damaged glove, no longer useful for protection but at least can be used for gripping tools and such. Ford got up to fetch more tools while Stanley stayed behind, about to say something but left it behind. He was hoping that maybe they would give it a rest and try again later, already feeling tired. But he knew Ford wouldn’t want to tuck for the night just yet. The waters might return to normal and Ford would miss his chance studying his new samples. Not to mention, when Ford gets going with the excitement of a new experiment, there’s no slowing him down. Stan decided to simply stay put, praying that this would be quick and all he would have to do is watch over Ford as collects the strange liquid and then later hit the hay, leaving Ford to his own devices.
Sure enough, that’s what happened, much to Stanley’s relief. Ford’s idea of layering his gloves worked and he made sure to dip the vial in quickly and smoothly. It no longer was a matter of being slow and cautious as it was far more important to be quick and careful. Ford was satisfied with the amount he had gotten and went on inside to change into his lab coat and start experimenting. Stanley cleaned up the area around him and followed Ford inside, dressing down to his pajamas and heading off for bed after a quick bid of goodnight.
Stanford didn’t sleep until much later, about one in the morning, as he was too busy running many tests on his new discovery, jotting down notes left and right. When he finally got to bed, it took him a while to sleep for the worrisome thoughts he had regarding his tests were busy running around in his head, despite having them written down in his journal. He knew he had to tell Stanley about them soon. But now… well, now it is time for bed. He will tell him tomorrow morning.