Chapter Text
A knock echoed through his shit little chilly motel room, grabbing his trusted bat, Stan replied “Just give me a few more days, Rico! I’ll pay your goons back, I swear!”
But the only response to his call was a child, “Hello? I-I don’t know a ‘Rico’. I’m lookin’ for somebody,” He sounded young, only 13 at most.
Stan raised a brow, maybe the kid was lost? He thought, opening the door as much as its latch would allow, hovering his gaze through the crack. A short kid, his hair a saturated yellow on the ends and brown at its roots. It was in a long, scruffy and unkempt ponytail. He wore an oversized and now patched bomber jacket, simple t-shirt and gray jeans. He had a square jaw, large nose, and yellow eyes. “You lost, kid?”
“No,” The kid replied, “Are you Stanley Pines?”
Stan’s eyes slightly widened at his name as he furrowed his brow- “Why you lookin’ for me?”
The kid seemed more animated as he spoke, a worried and anxiety ridden tone, “I need to get into contact with your brother, it’s urgent!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa-” Stan tried to calm the kid, “What do you need my brother for?”
The kid looked around, almost like he felt watched, “Could I explain inside? It’s winter.”
Stan sighed, “Sure, why not. Just don’t mind the mess.”
The kid entered, his hands nervously playing with each other and his jacket’s zipper, “You should keep an open mind- this is gonna be a lot.”
“Okay- okay, just get on with it,” Stan insisted.
The kid took a breath in and out, “I’m Sonar, and Stanford’s kid-”
“What?!” Stan shouted.
“-but he doesn’t know I exist. I need to warn him about my other father- an Euclidean- Wait, you don’t know what that is..” Sonar struggled to explain, “Okay, a Euclidean is a species of 2-dimensional triangle people- they’re flat. But they’re all dead-”
“Excuse me?”
“-because this one Euclidean named Bill Cipher killed them all and no one knows why.”
“You can’t make this stuff up..”
“Exactly- it’s not made up.”
“Ugh-” Stan lowered his head in frustration, his sarcasm flying right over Sonar’s head as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“But that’s not the point- Point is, Bill is crazy powerful, and he’s trying to enter our dimension to become 3-dimensional and turn our world inside-out with his weirdness!”
“His weirdness? Wow, real terrifying,” Stan layed on the sarcastic flair thick, making sure to get it through his head.
Sonar paused, “It is very scary-” He raised an eyebrow as his head cocked on an angle, “Are you making fun of me?”
“Come on, kid,” Stan spoke softer, “This is bogus.”
“It is not!” Sonar said in offense, “Bill made a deal with Ford- He’s in danger! Bill’s using him to build a portal so he can take over your realm. How is this not scaring you?!” Stan rolled his eyes, “And to make sure Bill could get to the portal, he stole Ford’s DNA, and used it to make a kid of him and Ford to be a puppet to his bidding! Me!”
A loud pause came between them as Sonar’s raised voice finally ceased. “Kid- are you some kinda tweaker?” Stan eventually said, calmly.
Sonar's face suddenly turned confused as he innocently tilted his head like a dog, “What’s a tweaker?”
“Look kid-” The question almost confirmed to Stan that Sonar was on something, “I don’t know what you’re on, but you really shouldn’t be doing stuff like that this young..”
“What-” Sonar said with surprise- “No! I’m not on drugs! Look, I can prove I’m not human!” Sonar held out his hand as a seemingly invisible force raised up Stan’s bat right from his hands.
Stan looked on in disbelief, “What the..” He mumbled, reaching his hand out to check for anything that'd put him at ease. He sure as hell didn’t want to believe his brother had been in wraps with a literal demon, or that he had an estranged kid. He wasn’t even sure how a triangle could get with a human.. he heard that right, didn’t he? Triangle? That didn’t sound right.
“Besides-” Sonar said as Stan gawked, “Look at me. I’m a carbon copy of Ford.”
Stan looked the kid up and down, “Yeah, I guess you are. Uh.. Sonar, was it? Strange name.”
“Yeah, matches the rest of me,” Sonar replied, dropping the bat into Stan’s hands once again.
“But- I-If you really are some kinda plant, why would I take you right to Ford- Isn’t that what your weird ass triangle father wants? Bill?” Stan quietly questioned, still making sense of it himself.
“Uh..” Sonar paused, he hadn’t expected this, too naive to have realized he would look like he was on Bill’s side, “I-I’m trying to stop it- You gotta believe me!” His voice was desperate, and so was his face, unable to convey the true gravity of the situation as he stepped forward towards Stan, “I-I don’t- I don’t know how to prove it to you-” He truly didn’t, too young to have the words to express himself. Too young to have considered, even for a moment, family wouldn’t help him. “We’re family-”
Stan’s face cringed; this display was pathetic, he couldn’t help but pity Sonar, “J-Just shush, kid... Uhm.. I think I have Ford’s uh- number,” Stan could believe it, but just decided to roll with it. See where it went. Hopefully, he could call Ford and find
reassurance when his twin confirmed he wasn’t building a world-ending-inter-dimensional-portal.
Sonar’s face turned to relief as Stan agreed to at least call Ford, “Thank you!” He smiled, looking up at Stan with a warm gaze.
Stan’s phonebook was old and yellowed, a small notebook filled with old numbers and old memories. Stan didn’t have to dig far, as Ford was the very first page. Family was always first. As he dialed Ford’s number, the buttons making satisfying clicks, he hesitated before pushing in the last digit- the ghost of tremors reaching his fingers. He slowly pulled the receiver to his ear, as an unfamiliar voice answered, “Hello? You’ve reached the home of Tad Strange.” Stan quickly put the phone down- Ford must’ve changed his number.. He looked down at his phone book once more, the only other numbers of the page being those of his mother’s landline. If there was one thing he wouldn’t do, it was call home. He had made a promise; a flimsy thing to Stan, but this time he intended to keep it. He needed another plan.. He flipped through the phonebook to find anything else, and suddenly he paused. Backupsmore University, the low level college Ford had ended up going to after his science fair project was a bust. He’d picked it up during a college fair, mostly to appease his mother, but now it was really coming in handy. With the minimal connection Stan still had to home, he’d heard through the grapevine Ford was on a grant from somewhere.
As Stan dialed from the motel’s landline, placing the receiver to his ear, there was nothing but static. He dialed again, but this time there was an answer, “So sorry about the hold up, what can I do for you?” A woman answered. Stan had called Ford’s university, Backupsmore. He was praying she’d redirect him to Stanford’s home phone, presuming he had changed the number.
“Hello, could I speak to Stanford Pines? I’m his twin, Stanley. H-He should be researching’ somethin’ on a grant right now.”
“I’m sorry sir-” Her voice almost hinted at pity- “But we aren’t in contact with Stanford Pines, he received that grant through a third party.”
Stan sighed and cursed under his breath, “It’s alright, you’ve been a doll. Thank you,” Setting down the phone, he turned Sonar with a sorry look, “Sorry kid, no dice.
“Then let’s go,” Sonar immediately said, “W-We gotta drive there!”
“What? No- I- No! Drive where?” Stan’s face tensed.
“Please!” Sonar begged, “I’m your family- human families help each other! If I don’t get over there, Ford could get hurt- you don’t know what Bill is capable of!”
“Find your own ride, kid. I don’t got the money,” Stan insisted, still not wanting to believe Ford was in danger by a ‘Euclidean’. If he took out all his savings, they’d get there semi-comfortably, but Stan would’ve used any excuse to get out of this.
“Who am I supposed to ask? I-I don’t have anyone, Stan,” Sonar begged, “If I tell people I’m a Euclidean-human hybrid, they’ll think I’m a tweaker- twicker- whatever you called me! I can’t drive, and if a cop stops me they’d throw me into your human foster care system!”
Stan paused, hearing the kid’s desperation began to stir something in him- until a new party began to BANG BANG BANG on the door. Stan could hear a familiar and gruff voice, “Stanley! You ready to pay up yet?” Rico called, beginning to mock him, “Or do you need ‘a few more days’?”
“Shit..” Stan grumbled. He knew Rico would be coming, and his grip tightened over the bat he held.
“Hey-” Sonar quickly interrupted- “I can get these guys off your back, I promise. But you gotta drive me to Ford! I know where he is!” Stan looked from the kid, to the door, to Sonar once more. He didn’t want to involve his apparent nephew in gang violence. He couldn’t get his answer out before another call from Rico caused Sonar to decide “Ugh-! You’re taking too long!” before swiping Stan’s bat from him, and marching to the door.
Opening up the door, Rico stood tall with two grunts with him as his face twisted into deep confusion. Before he said anything, Sonar held up his hands- the bat shifted off to the side of his hand- and engaged his abilities to squash the two grunt’s head’s together and send them to the floor with an invisible telekinetic force. Rico turned and saw his grunts on the floor, before turning back to grab Sonar and holding him up by the boy’s wrists- “Okay, smart guy. Quit gettin’ a kid to fight your battles!” Sonar hadn’t expected to be thwarted so easily, struggling and kicking but too short to do much of anything, the bat dropping to the floor with a clatter. His abilities, wile strong, struggled with being crammed inside a human body. They needed a point of focus, which Sonar had always used his hands to do, but he’d never been in a proper brawl in such a tight space. While Sonar struggled, Rico had turned around to try and look for Stan, who he had assumed had clobbered his grunt’s head’s together.
Stan soon appeared from around the corner of the doorframe, brass knuckles in hand as he sent a solid punch into Rico’s shoulder, “Leave him alone!” Rico was sent backward and let go of Sonar’s hands, whipping around to send a punch into Stan, but now with free hands Sonar was able to keep Rico’s fist from ever meeting Stan’s. Stopping mid air, Rico lifted a brow while Stan continued to beat the man until he dropped Sonar. “Move it, kid! Come on!” Stan insisted as he grabbed Sonar by the arm and led him to Stan’s car, the hunk of junk stalling before whirring to life with a solid hit to the dash. Stepping on the gas once the two were in, Stan peeled out of the motel’s parking lot in his well-loved 1965 El Diabolo. Thankfully, he had paid in advance and wouldn’t have he motel on his ass for the check but Rico’s unconscious body was another story. Then again, it’s not like they could track him down. The motel was in a shady part of town anyway, Stan thought, crazy things happened there all the time.
“Whoo!” Sonar said, he sounded anxious and excited but mostly afraid, “Nice job back there-”
“The Hell kid!” Stan began, “What the Hell! You could’ve gotten killed!”
“I can handle my own- that’s not the point- If we keep driving for about three days, we’ll get to Gravity Falls-”
“What? No- I- I can’t take care of you! What the fuck’s Gravity Falls?”
“Where Ford is-”
“Ugh- Where’s the station?”
Sonar jolted- “What! Y-You can’t turn me in! Stan- I need to-”
“You’re clearly absolutely insane, kid.. I cannot take care of you for three whole days! I’m broke- all my shit’s back in the motel,” Stan rambled before Sonar butted back in.
“All you need to pay for is gas,” Sonar’s voice was more level, “A-And I got a few extra bucks. I don’t need food or nothing, I can handle three days. I-If you take me to the cops, they’ll realize eventually something’s up. I don’t know what’ll happen if they do.”
Stan’s face was tense, pulling over after driving aimlessly and dragging his hands down his face, cradling it in them against the wheel. Taking in a deep breath, “Alright, alright. I’m not gonna take you to any cops, and I’ll drive you to whatever crazy town you said Ford was in..” He couldn’t believe he was doing this, it was completely illogical to do so and almost financially impossible. But Sonar sounded so desperate, and he was the only family Stan had left. He was always a sucker for family. “I’m not gonna starve you, though. I got a savings account, we’ll use that. If you really are my family, I’m gonna take care of you.”
“Thank you!” Sonar celebrated, “I promise, you’ll never have to deal with me again after this!”
“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t touch nothing,” Stan looked over to grab the GPS he had fixed to the dashboard before noticing Sonar was unbuckled, “And buckle up, too. Can’t have the cops pullin’ us over for that.”
Sonar paused, “I don’t.. Really know what that means. I’ve never been in a car before.”
“Here-” Stan leaned over and handed Sonar the seat belt with a sigh, “You put this buckle in the little bracket with the red button down there.” Stan directed as Sonar followed along, “They don’t got cars where you’re from? What was it called- The Nightmare Realm?”
“Not really- It’s not important, though,” Sonar insisted.
Stan took in a breath- he was really about to do this. Getting back onto the road and handing Sonar the GPS, “Put in the town name,” Stan instructed, and Sonar obeyed.
“Head Westbound on I-70,” The GPS ordered, and they were off to the races.
About an hour in, and it was still very awkward. Stan looked up to see Sonar leaning forward to look at their blindspots, “What’re you doin’, kid?” Stan’s voice was already tired and over this.
“Sorry- I’m just a little nervous,” Sonar replied, “I don’t want anyone following us. I’ve seen your human media, I know what they do to aliens.”
“Like.. movies?” Stan asked, “Kid, that’s all fiction.”
“Still- it could happen! Who’s to say some government isn’t looking for me right now? Technically, I’m an undocumented alien,” Sonar explained, though it was hard to take him super seriously when his voice was still squeaky and prepubescent.
Stan couldn’t help but laugh, “You can’t be serious, kiddo. No ones comin’ for you- Raegan’s too busy fighting off the Russians to be looking for some scrawny little kid.”
“Don’t make fun of me,” Sonar mumbled.
Stan paused, sighing as a bit of guilt bubbled in him, “Sorry kid, but it just seemed kind of silly to me. It’s odd to think someone could take those movies seriously.”
“Your media was the only way I had a lens into humanity,” Sonar explained, “Lots of really old stuff.”
“How old we talkin’?” Stan asked. Stan liked talking about old movies, he saw a lot of the same ones Sonar did while slacking off school. Sonar appeared excited to have someone to talk to them about, and talked on and on about Sleeping Beauty, 12 Angry Men, Old Yeller, Lady and the Tramp. Some movies Stan had seen, and some he hadn’t.
“You haven’t seen sleeping beauty!?” Sonar exclaimed.
“Of course I haven’t seen some princess movie,” Stan laughed, “I ain’t a little girl.”
“Well what does that have to do with anything?”
“Because-” Stan paused, he failed to find a real reason, “Hm.. I’ll give it to ya’, I guess that’s no excuse.”
“Humans are strange sometimes,” Sonar began, “You put so much emphasis on whose what label to dictate superiority. In the Nightmare Realm, we just decided based on who could beat who up.”
“You sure there ain’t another name you could use for it? ‘Nightmare Realm’ makes me nervous,” Stan added.
“That’s the point,” Sonar interrupted.
Stan raised an eyebrow, “Not important- But people just go about beating other folk up?”
“Pretty much-” Sonar shrugged- “Its entire existence is to be a realm of anarchy. The only governmental body is that of gangs and their territories. If you don’t comply, you’re bound to be jumped sooner or later depending on the crime.”
Stan raised an eyebrow, “How’d you survive? I’m not tryin’ to sound rude here, but you're a little scrawny kiddo.”
“Bill is a very powerful shape, and a very frightening force. He wouldn’t let his creation’s death go unpunished, but said that getting beat would be good for me. Toughen me up.”
“Whoa-” Stan sounded appalled, “That ain’t right, kid.”
Sonar shrugged, “Eh.. He was right. I can’t hold my own in a fight-”
“You shouldn’t have to!” Stan’s face was tense, “You’re a kid- you look barely 13. You shouldn’t have to defend yourself from anybody. Don’t get me wrong, it pays to be tough. Everyone's gotta be tough to survive, but based on you running full force into a gang fight, I think we have a very different idea of tough.”
“Well what’s your idea of tough?” Sonar said with a tilt of his head.
“It’s a hard thing to pinpoint, but back in middle school, I was waitin’ in a line for a movie when this big guy started taking this girl’s purse. A month before, my dad had put me into a boxing class, and cause I knew how to fight I ended up givin’ that guy a proper left-hook to the face!” Stan recounted as Sonar looked on in awe, “Ended up gettin’ my first kiss that day as a thank you. It was only on the cheek, but still counts. If that ain’t tough, I don’t know what is.”
“Tough back in.. my previous realm was dependent on a species' natural capabilities. The realm has no body living in it, it was too baren until these criminals were exiled there and made their own place. The Nightmare Realm is now its own place, and people are able to travel in but sometimes not out. There’s a lot of legal barriers to leave cause they’re afraid of stuff like drugs or crime getting out.”
“Jesus- That’s horrible,” Stan said, shaken.
“It is what it is,” Sonar replied, “I just stayed indoors. Being alone was much better than being outside. Since humans haven’t can’t travel across dimensions, I was the only human looking creature. This made me very noticeable, a rare head if I were died.”
“Okay- Enough Nightmare Realm talk for today,” Stan interjected.
“S-Sorry..” Sonar said, looking away and out the window.
Stan let out a held breath, “It’s okay, kid. This ain’t your fault. I’m just a little freaked out is all. That place sounds real violent.”
Sonar was silent a moment before replying “It is” in a quiet tone. Another few moments passed before Stan turned on the radio, trying to keep things light.
He felt absolutely awful for the kid, but if he thought about it all while still processing he was an uncle made his mind work harder than it had since highschool. Not just that he was an uncle, but that Ford had been working with some inane demon to build some kind of portal which would destroy all of everything. He didn’t want to freak out in front of this kid, he was sure Sonar was overwhelmed enough with being in a brand new realm on a whole other planet. He needed to be strong.
Another few hours went by. The two were quiet- besides an exclamation from Sonar ever so often at some thing or song he’d never seen nor heard. “I noticed something,” Stan eventually said as they sat in traffic, “You’re like a.. Reverse kid.”
“Hm? How so?” Sonar turned from the window.
Stan shrugged, “You’ve got so much knowledge that even the smartest of humans don’t know, but like zero common knowledge,” Stan looked over to see Sonar a little embarrassed, “Not that it’s a bad thing-” He was quick to say- “Just that the knowledge I’d expect you to have is the only knowledge you don’t have.”
“Back home, I was considered very smart. It’s weird re-learning everything,” Sonar commented.
“I bet-” Stan replied, tapping his fingers on the wheel to the current song, Sister Golden Hair- “It’s even weirder learning about all the dimension stuff you’re yappin’ about.”
Sonar laughed a little, pausing as he took in Stan’s taps. He didn’t try to hide his observations, copying Stan’s tat tat tap tap tat ta tap tap to the chorus.
Stanley couldn’t help but laugh- “You learnin’ to drum?”
“Drum?” Sonar said, pausing and looking up at Stan.
“Yeah, drumming.”
“Oh!” Sonar exclaimed in recognition, “That noise in a song that goes boosh!”
Stan laughed a little more- “Yeah- but you were copying my tappin’!”
“I’ve never thought to do that,” Sonar replied, quickly replying with a question, “How do people become musicians?”
“They just do, I guess?”
Sonar paused, “They do?”
“Now, I don’t know shit about music- or- sorry, I shouldn’t be sayin’ that ‘round you. Now, I don’t know anything about that stuff, but what I do know is anyone can learn to play an instrument.”
Sonar seemed dumbfounded- “Really? Wait- How!?”
Stan smiled as traffic finally began to move, “What, you wanna be one?”
“I don’t know- But maybe,” Sonar thought for a moment, a brand new branch of humanity now available to him, “I’ve always wanted to create art.”
“Like what?”
Sonar’s face puffed a little at the cheeks, something Ford used to do as a kid when he was thinking real hard on something, “Hmm.. Maybe.. A painting? But I don’t know what people make art about.”
“Anything,” Stan shrugged, “There are paintings that are just made to look pretty, or paintings made to tell a story, or express emotion.”
“What kind of emotion?”
Stan was beginning to see why parents got so annoyed with their kid’s questions, they were hard to answer, “Any. I saw this piece of art about- I think my friend said- fashion last decade. It was this herringbone pattern box with I think this book and sewing stuff in it.”
“That’s.. Art?”
“It’s a sculpture! art can be anything,” Stan shrugged, “I dunno- a friend just told me about it.”
Sonar had a childish laugh, “That sounds so strange!”
As Sonar continued to giggle, traffic taking a slow and steady pace, Stan gestured to the glove box saying, “There should be a little latch there to open up a door, that’s called the glove box. There should be a pad of paper and pen,” Sonar followed his instruction, pulling out the supplies and clicking the pen open, “You can draw with that while we’re driving.”
“What should I draw?” Sonar asked, looking around.
“I dunno,” Stan said with a shrug, “Uh- look out the window. Draw somethin’ out there.”
Sonar finally drew something he was happy with.. After an hour. Sonar waited for the car to pause until tugging on Stan’s jacket sleeve and holding up a little flower. It was very angular, made up of mathematical shapes rather than a natural flow. The lines were light chicken scratches with more defined lineart which lay heavy in the middle. Although, you could tell it was his first piece.
“Nice work, kiddo,” Stan remarked, holding out his fist for a high five. Sonar just stared at it, blankly. “It’s uhm- a high five-” Stan moved his hand to take Sonar’s, adjust it, and then clap them together.
“Huh,” Sonar said, hitting their hands together again, “And you do this why?”
“Uhm-” Stan’s hand returned to the wheel, “Huh.. Not sure. We just do it sometimes as maybe a congratulations, or greeting. A sign of togetherness. Lots of things.”
“That’s what I don’t get about your language- so many different things can mean the same thing. I was walking through town looking for you, and I almost bumped into a woman, so I said ‘go right ahead’- But I said it like ‘go right ahead’. And she got mad!” Sonar ranted.
Stan couldn’t help but laugh, “Because you like it like you were saying it ironically.”
“Why would you say something you don’t mean? What’s even the point of that?” Sonar sounded annoyed.
“For humor-” Stan quickly replied- “Or because you’re trying to be petty!”
Sonar was giggling, “Why would you be petty! Just say why you don’t like whoever you’re speaking to!”
“You crack me up kid-” Stan ruffled Sonar’s hair.
Sonar paused, “That’s an.. Expression of laughter, right?”
“Spot on,” Stan replied, “Means you’re right.”
“You guys have too many phrases,” Sonar grumbled.
“Well what are some phrases from your dimension,” Stan challenged.
“Hmm.. Translated into English, ‘If you take a man’s land, then the boss is back behind bars’,” Sonar translated, “Basically, it’s saying that when you take someone’s power away they’re- Okay.. This is harder than I thought. In the Nightmare Realm, since it started as a place to send criminals, being behind bars is like having no power. So once you take someone’s power or land away, it’s like they’re back in prison. So the boss of the land you just stole becomes powerless and stuff.”
Stan lifted a brow, “Odd- to me at least.”
“It’s a common saying- at least among the more influential who actually own and take land,” Sonar explained.
After what felt like much longer than 3 hours of musical silence, the two arrived at a small motel. Stan explained “We’re gonna stay the night here, stop by an atm in the mornin’ if they don’t got one here,” Sonar nodded, giving an affirmative hum before following Stan into the motel. Once the two were inside, Stan flipped through his wallet and took out a 20$ bill. His hand landed on something before closing the wallet, however; a family picture with him and Ford.
That was until the counter attendant asked him, “Sir?” A teenage boy with tired eyes.
“Oh- Uh- Sorry, one room please,” Stan stammered.
The clerk looked at the two, “A two bed, right?”
“Course,” Stan handed him the 20, “Will this cover it?”
The attendant nodded, handing the two a key, “Number 5, don’t forget to move your car there.”
Once the car was moved, and the room opened, Sonar looked around with inquisitive eyes. He was quietly walking around, taking in each detail. The place had an art deco esc style, inane wall decorations covering the place trying to appear fancy. There were two beds separated by a nightstand against the wall, and a small desk with a chair off on the far back wall. To their left were a few cabinets offering table space, and in the far left corner was a small bathroom. “Uh, kid?” Stan asked before realizing “Oh- You’ve never been in a motel before, huh?”
Sonar shook his head no, “Or a hotel, though they look very nice.”
“Much nicer than this crap-” Stan began to pick up the mattress to pear underneath- “Check your mattress for bugs, like I’m doin’.”
Sonar copied his actions like a little kid, peering for bugs before moving onto the sheets and covers. When both beds were declared clear, Sonar scurried on and flopped onto the bed.
“Sleep much?” Stan asked with an eyebrow raised.
“Not on mattresses,” Sonar added, looking away, “At least not lately. I-I dunno if you’d wanna hear about it.”
Stan thought for a moment, taking a seat on his own bed, “No.. tell me ‘bout that.”
“Well- Bill’s a uh.. vindictive man,” Sonar began, “And when he found out I was tryin’ to make a rift to get here.. Earth.. he wasn’t happy. Wanted me dead, but knew he wouldn't have enough of Ford’s DNA for another offspring. But instead of thinking about it, he just decided to catch me first and figure it out later. I spent a month or two on the run, s-stopped counting after the first week.”
“Jesus kid..” Stan muttered, “Jesus.”
“Christ? I’m not too familiar with your human deities,” Sonar responded quite bluntly.
“No kid- I didn't-” Stan let out a heavy sigh, “I’m just a little shocked. You’re a little kid, you shouldn’t be runnin’ from nothin’ but age. It hurts to hear ‘bout.”
“Sorry..” Sonar looked down.
“No- I asked for it,” Stan replied, “But you shouldn’t apologize for havin’ to run for your life.”
“So-”
“I just said you didn’t have to say sorry,” Stan laughed a little as Sonar’s face went red, opening his mouth to apologize, but wordlessly closing it again. “It’s gettin’ late. Get some sleep- you look like you haven’t gotten none in a week.” Stan chuckled.
Sonar smiled, shuffling under the covers, “Night, Stan.”
“Night, kid. Just see you in the morning, and Stanford that evening,” Stan leaned over and shut out the lamp.