I realize who he is the moment he introduces himself.
"Stanford Pines," he says, adjusting his glasses as he offers his hand. "But you can call me Ford."
The name lands like a dropped book in my chest.
I keep my expression calm. Neutral. Curious—but not shocked.
Of course it's him.
The future author of the journals. The man who will unravel the supernatural and, in doing so, crack the door wide enough for something far worse to notice him.
But right now?
He's just a college student. Brilliant, awkward, intensely curious, and completely unaware of how important he'll become.
"I'm Elaine," I reply, shaking his hand. "Looks like we're lab partners."
We signed up for a ridiculous number of the same classes—physics, advanced mathematics, theoretical sciences, and a few electives that skirt the edge of the unexplained without crossing into anything professors would scoff at. It doesn't take long for us to fall into an easy rhythm.
Ford is a genius.
There's no other word for it.
I'm intelligent—well above average, quick to learn, good at connecting ideas across disciplines. But Ford operates on a different frequency entirely. He sees patterns where others see noise, asks questions no one else thinks to ask, and refuses to accept incomplete answers.
And somehow… we click.
Not instantly. Not dramatically. But steadily.
I don't befriend him for advantage. At least, not intentionally. I help him because I can, and because I want to. He helps me because he enjoys having someone who can keep up without feeling threatened.
We argue. We theorize. We stay up far too late debating whether reality has seams.
And I keep one very important thought to myself.
I need to stop Bill Cipher.
Or—at the very least—I need to control how Bill enters the picture.
Preventing Ford from ever meeting Bill would be ideal… but unrealistic. Bill is a parasite. If he doesn't latch onto Ford, he'll find someone else. Someone I don't know. Someone unpredictable.
And that's worse.
I'd rather follow a future I understand than gamble on a mystery.
Ford is fast-tracked into the doctorate program ten years ahead of schedule.
Ten.
I remember sitting beside him when he gets the confirmation letter, his hands trembling just slightly as he rereads it over and over.
"That's… that's not possible," he mutters.
"It is," I say, smiling. "You earned it."
I advance quickly too—well ahead of the normal schedule—but nowhere near Ford's pace. And I'm fine with that. I'm not here to outshine him. I'm here to prepare.
By the time I finish my doctorate, Ford has already graduated.
We keep in contact—letters at first, then phone calls when schedules allow. His curiosity only sharpens with time, turning increasingly toward the unexplained. When he tells me about the massive research grant he's received, I know exactly where this is going.
"I'm going to investigate the supernatural," he says, excitement buzzing through his voice. "There are… patterns. Anomalies. Places where the rules don't behave properly."
I close my eyes briefly.
"Let me guess," I say. "A small town with a history of weirdness?"
There's a pause.
"…Gravity Falls."
Of course it is.
He invites me to come along once I've fully graduated—to observe, to assist, to check it out. Casual words for something that will eventually rewrite his entire life.
"I'll think about it," I tell him honestly.
And I do.
Because Gravity Falls isn't just a destination—it's a crossroads.
Bill Cipher. The journals. Interdimensional fractures. Government interest. A town sitting directly on top of things that should never wake up.
If I go, I step onto the board.
If I don't… the game continues without me.
I look at the sealed vial of Titan blood hidden safely among my things, at my notes on glyph theory, dimensional physics, and magical systems that haven't been discovered yet.
And I smile softly.
"I'll check it out," I whisper to myself.
Because if the future insists on happening…
…I might as well be there when it does.