foolishmortals | This is fine. It's fine. We're fine.

[Well that was.

Something.

Underneath everyone’s door they’ll find a slip of paper, in shaky calligraphy, that reads:

INVITATION

Meet in the Dining Room.

Do not bring alcohol of any sort.

Upon arrival into the Dining Room it’s clear that this is very much...not a party.

The center of the room is cleared of all tables, and instead has all the chairs arranged in a circle, facing inwards. On the tables pushed to the side are jugs of water, cups, plates of saltines, and several hastily-made pamplets that read on the front ”How to cope with Child homicide” that contains an advisory list:

Try not to think about it.
Do not get hysterical.
Crying is permitted, but keep it within a reasonable volume. (For the consideration of fellow mourners)
Maintain civility
Do not plunder the belongings of the deceased.
No drinking or gambling your sorrows away. Set an example.

Standing in front of one of the chairs already is Mr.Arrow. He clears his throat as people start to slowly come in.]

I gathered you all here because I believed it would be conductive to group morale if we all worked through our feelings regarding recent events. Talk about your feelings with one another, but not with me.

[He steps back a little, out of the circle of chairs, in what seems to be an invitation for people to sit down and discuss with one another.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[For the first time in months, Ford feels relief flood his whole body. He can finally get a message to his husband. He can finally let him know that he’s okay. He thinks about it for only a moment, and then:]

Tell him I love him. Tell him I’m not giving up, not until...not until I have all of you home safe. Can you do that for me, Stanley?

Ugh. Gross, Ford, I'm n-

[...But god, Ford looks about as old as Stan feels.]

...Yeah, I'll tell him his husband loves him and misses him and is coming to rescue him.

[Wait for it.]

And that he's just as big a sappy nerd as he was when he left.

[There it is.]

[Ford sinks back into his seat, head cradled in his hands; after a moment, he looks up, smiling weakly.]

I'll take it. Thank you, Stanley. And...Mabel. Keep her safe. No more of this 'volunteering for death' nonsense, either of you, I don't care what some space general does.

Don't cry, you big softy. You're gonna turn as red as your sweater.

[God please don't make this emotional, Ford, he can't handle emotional. He still has to talk to Dipper and find out his beloved great-nephew is dead.]

Hey! I only did it to keep Mabel out of it. ...I still gotta have a talk with her about not scaring me like that.

I swear, the old ticker's gonna give out before we get out of here...

You know I'll protect Mabel with everything I've got, Ford.

[You know how much he lov the childrens.]

I—I'm not crying.

[He's waiting until he gets back to his room to do that!!]

Yes, well. I suppose you did what you had to do. [He manages a grim smile.]

I trust you, Stanley. And...if you speak to Dipper, tell him I'm alright?

...Aw, hell.

[He pinches the bridge of his nose.]

So he wasn't lyin' about Dipper. How- how am I gonna tell Mabel?

No. I'm afraid he wasn't.

[And Ford had to watch them find his poor, waterlogged little body.]

Be gentle with her. I know that's not your forté, but...she needs to know the truth.

[That gets Ford a glare.]

Great to know you think so highly of me.

What- what happened to him?

I'm being honest, Stanley. We all have our strengths and weaknesses. I'm working on some of mine, too, you know.

[Ford sighs, looking so, incredibly tired. He actually looks his age for once.]

He drowned. By accident.

Yeah, real honest about the fact that you don't think I know how to talk to our niece.

[Stanley goes pale as a sheet. For a few long seconds, he doesn't have an answer. He doesn't have words.

The idea of Dipper, who he held in his arms as
a baby, still and blue and lifeless... He feels the same kind of nausea he felt when he saw that little girl get executed.]

...So we're gonna put him in six life jackets if he comes to visit us on the boat.

[He can say this kind of thing to Ford. Ford knows him better than anyone.]

[Ford nods, grimly.]

I was thinking we could engineer a bubble, and attach it to a rope.

[He'd be joking, normally, except he's not. He'll never forget that mental image as long as he lives.]

We'd have to make two. We couldn't just put Dipper in a hamster ball and not give Mabel one too.

[He can read Ford's face as easy as he can read his own, he can see the grief there.

He's sure that it's on his own face, too. These are the most serious jokes either of them have ever made.]

Of course. There'd be a riot.

[Look, see, they can hold up the facade of easy conversation even though they're both dying inside!]

Well—just make sure he's alright. And, Stanley—

[How to say this nicely.]

Don't let yourself be distracted.

Stanford.

[Stanford.]

You know I'll do whatever it takes to keep our family together and keep Mabel safe.

[He nods, and tries to convey as much as he can with his expression that he believes in his brother. He trusts his brother.]

I know. I know you will.

I'll see you in no time, Sixer.

[I love you too.]

[He lets out a deep breath, waves a hand in a tired salute.]

Until then.

[Love you, brother.]

This is fine. It's fine. We're fine.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject