Hello, so this is a continuation of the first story I made. It might make more sense if you see the first one but its a new adventure so if you don't want to I won't make you. First time I posted the text came out funny so hopefully it works this time around.

Dream

...

"Stanley, watch out!" yelled Stanford from the top of the Stan O War. Stanley looked up just in time to see one of the wooden planks for the siding of their ship fall to the sand below. Quickly thinking, Stanley moved out of the way before it had the chance to fall onto him.

"Watch out there Pointdexter," laughed off little Stanley as he looked up at his twin.

He and Sixer were young again, out on the beach fixing up the Stan O War. The little bodies of the two boys were sunburnt and sweaty under the hot New Jersey summer sun. The Stan O War was bare, still in the process of being build. Stanley climbed up the side of their boat to get up to where his brother was on what was to be the deck.

"Sorry Lee, I thought I had it in place," said Stanford looking at his brother with concern in his eyes.

"Don't worry about it sixer," Patting his brother's shoulder, "just let me do the heavy lifting next time," said Stanley. "Looks like we got a lot of progress done today didn't we."

"Yeah we did, there's just one thing left to do today," said Stanford.

"What's that?" said Stanley

"Can you go under the deck and get my notebook, I stored it down there while we were building today," said Stanford.

Stanley was confused, there was nothing under the deck. There was barley a deck made yet, but he went over to the front of the boat and there was a door on the floor to underneath.

Opening the door Stanley went down a set of stairs, it was dark and cold. The only light source came from the sunlight up above. Something was not right, but all he could see was blackness beyond the stairs. Suddenly the door closed, leaving him alone in the darkened room.

Stanley hear a noise, something was down there with him. The noise then turned into the sound of a person laughing, Stanley froze, and he knew this voice. Stanley didn't waste any time, he turned around and ran back up the stairs. He pushed up on the door above but it wouldn't budge.

Again and again he tried to open the door while the laughter was getting louder and louder.

Suddenly the laughter had stopped.

A bright light was shone into his eyes, blinding him temporarily. When his eyes adjusted he noticed that the door and the stairs he was standing on were gone. He was lying on a bed with a desk lamp as the only light source in the room. Both wrists cuffed to the headboard, a figure came out of the shadows. A figure he wished he would never see again.

Rico.

Hola, mi niño Es hora de jugar. ¿No serás bueno hoy y quédate quieto para mí?

"Stanford!" Stanley started to scream. "Stanford! Help me!" Rico started to get closer and started to lean onto the bed.

Stanley screamed, "Sixer!"

….

"Sixer!" Stanley screamed as he quickly sat up from his sleeping position. Stanley was too busy gulping in air, trying to calm down.

Stanley heard the door to the room slam open, and in the door way was his brother, face slacked with worry.

"Stanley! Are you ok?" Stanford went over and kneeled down next to the bed. Ford put one of his six fingered hands on Stanley's shoulder while taking his pulse with the other. Stanley didn't answer him; he was too busy sucking air into his lungs while looking around the room to make sure he was back, and safe.

Stanford sighed, "You haven't woken up from a nightmare like this for a couple days, I had hoped that they had stopped."

"Me too," murmured Stanley as he tried to cover himself back up with the blanket that fell off him when he woke up.

Fiddleford popped his head into the room, "Is everything alright? I heard some screaming."

"Ah yes Fidds," said Stanford as he turned around slightly to reassure the man, "everything is fine, Stanley just had a bad dream that's all."

"Sorry about that Fiddleford," said Stanley still not be able to look into the man's eyes due to his embarrassment. Whenever Stanley woke up from a bad dream like this he would remember the first time it happened, he scared Fiddleford so bad that he thought they both were going to have double panic attacks.

"Not to worry, now that you're both awake shall I go get some breakfast started up? What shall it be today, Waffles with fruit or eggs and toast?"

Stanley's eyes lit up, "Waffles."

"I thought so," teased Fiddleford, "They are so close the pancakes…in a way," pulling his head out of the room, the brothers heard the man's footsteps go down the set of stairs to the kitchen.

Stanley watched as his brother stood up and sat down on the foot of the bed.

"You want to talk about it?" asked Stanford.

"No," said Stanley as he looked at the carpeted floor, looking anywhere but where his brother was.

"Remember what Phillip said Lee," started Stanford, "You are going to have to talk about these dreams sometime. Now its ok if that's not me, maybe Phillip but you are going to have to at some point," Stanford chuckled, "Besides, it looks like you and Fiddleford need a break."

Stanford patted Stanley's leg and started out the door, "Come on down for breakfast Lee."

Stanley hadn't called up Phillip for over a week now, Stanley didn't like to bug Phillip too much. Ever since Phillip took off of work to help Stanley get back home, he had been behind at work and he used up most if not all of his vacation days. Phillip told Stanley not to worry about it, how he would get more days of leave coming up again soon anyway.

Stanley hoped that Phillip would come visit him soon. He gave him the address for his new place in Gravity Falls once Stanford brought him to the shack. But that was just wishful thinking, Stanley grunted as he rolled off the bed as he exchanged his sleeping shirt for a long sleeve.

Leaving the room he shared with his brother, he made sure to take his time going down the stairs. He was in no hurry to get to the kitchen where Fiddleford was. Stanley hated how jumpy the man got after one of his nightmare 'episodes'.

Trying to make sure he didn't offend Stanley and giving him space with his brother whenever it happened. Stan knew that Fiddleford wasn't a fool, Stanley knew that Fiddleford must have figured something out about why Stanford is so protective of his brother and why he was so messed up.

Making it to the kitchen, Stanley found his brother sitting at the table with his notes in front of him while Fiddleford was at the stove cooking. Stanley took a seat across from Stanford and waited for his food to be cooked.

….

Hours later after breakfast, Stanley was sitting on the loveseat sleeping to the sounds of the TV. Suddenly a loud noise woke him up, the telephone. Grunting, Stanley reached over to the table and answered the phone, groggy from his nap.

"Hello," said Stanley.

"Stanley? Hey it's me Phillip…..this is Stanley right, not the other one," Phillip joked as he always did when he answered the telephone.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, Phillip, your joke was only funny the first twelve times, "answered Stanley putting down the foot rest on the chair.

"Only the first twelve?" said Phillip, "Oh you still like my joke even if you pretend you don't."

Stanley could visualize the man right now, probably sitting down at his desk at the FBI, looking over some files bored to death.

Stanley laughed into the phone, "So what is it this time? Files stacked so high that you can't see over them, or you need a new pick up line for your secretary?"

"Stanley," teased Phillip, "You know I don't have a secretary, besides this call is… uh …different than the others I have made to you during my work hours."

Stanley's smile faded a little, Phillip sounded serious this time around, "Is there something wrong Phil?"

Stanley could hear the hesitation of Phillip's voice over the phone. "Stanley, there's no way I could figure out how to tell you, or anyway to sugar coat it for you."

"Phillip?"

"He's out Stanley, Rico escaped from prison."