FIDDLEFORD APPRECIATION MONTH. Week one- parallel Fiddleford

Day 12

It was a cold and dark day. The wind swept away the few leave that had already began to fall from the trees above in the early days of autumn. Stanford pines walked along the sidewalk, ignoring the gazes and unwanted looks he was receiving from nosey passers. Some wanting to talk to the hero's twin brother and thank him for helping save their town. He had one thing on his mind that he needed to get off his chest.
He turned a corner into the gravity falls dump, the stagnant smell nearly knocked him over but he remained strong and continued past the piles of scrap metal and rat fights. He headed toward the small shack that didn't seem even remotely safe or fit for human habitation.
He came up to the front door, well not really a door more like a mangled animal pelt that was swaying in the wind.
"Fiddleford?" He asked, somewhat hoping he wasn't home and he could just go back to the shack and bury the subject on his mind forever in the dark, far corners of his brain.
"Stanford?" An old, slightly croaky voice came from inside the shack. Next came some rustling before the small hillbilly appeared in the doorway.
"Good evening" said Stanford, frowning slightly at his friends appearance. The other man was wearing an old pair of dungarees, a scruffy hat and a scraggly white beard that grazed the floor as he moved.
"Howdy Stanford, please come in, pull up some metal!" The old man grinned and waddled back inside, beckoning Ford to follow him. Stanford did just that.
The inside the shed was small and crowed with half finished gadgets, screwed up blue prints and scattered shreds of different animal pelts. The small log burner did make a big difference to the chilling cold outside.
"What's caused you to pop on over then?" The smaller man asked he sat on a creaky rocking chair. Stanford spotted an old, turned over metal bucket and decided that must be better than sitting among the animal pelts on the floor.
"Well.....I came to see how you were, the last time I saw you was all those years ago" he smiled hesitantly as he sat on the bucket, that sank slightly into the ground.
"Oh, I'm rememberin' things a lot better now, thanks to them kids" he smiled and ran his fingers through his beard.
"How much do you remember, exactly? .....Of those years" Ford asked, his smile faultering slightly.
"Lil' bits every day, why do ya ask?" He pushed back on his chair, causing the chair to squeak slowly.
"Well, I..... I remember those days to, some of those days you might not want me to remember" his smile had disappeared now and was replaced with a frown. Fidd stopped rocking in his chair and looked down at the floor.
"You remember that?" He whispered, his voice breaking slightly as he held back some tears.
"Well, Fiddleford it wasn't your fault-"
"Don't forgive me for what I done did Stanford, what I did was terrible and you know it!" He cried as he tugged slightly on his beard, refusing to look up at Stanford.
"Fiddleford, don't say that. You weren't in a right mind set-"
"I messed with so many lives, destroyed people's minds. I WIPED YOUR MIND! How can you say it wasn't my fault? I was careless, irresponsible! Caused me ta end up like this! It's what I deserve" Tears dribbled down his face, he was too busy pulling at his beard to care.
"Now Fiddleford stop, that's enough" Stanford protested in a slightly sterner voice than anticipated and grabbed hold of Fiddleford's hands before he pulled even more hair from his beard.
Fiddleford looked up at the other man, stray tears still rolling from his eyes and dripping into his beard.
"I'm sorry.." Mcgucket whispered through choked sobs. Stanford smiled softly down at his friend.
"Don't be sorry, I'm the one that should apologise for letting it happen to you in the first place"
Before Ford realised what happened he was sharing a whole hearted hug with his best friend. It lasted a little longer than intended and Fords whole face was a slight pink colouration when they pulled apart. They had a long time of healing and rebuilding of friendship before Stanford could confront those feelings but that's for another time.