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Ever since Ford was a child he had the tendency to become quite obsessive about things, to the point it would be the only thing he could think about. It seemed to be a habit of his that only got worse with age. By the time he finished college he couldn't sleep properly from this quirk of his. By the time he was saved by Stan this sense of obsession got even worse.
One day post-weirdmaggedon early morning, Ford stumbled upon an old book about oceanic whitetip sharks in the basement. Originally he was gonna clean the basement but the notch in his brain flipped, he didn't know it at the moment but he'd be down there for a while. Hours went by, all Ford could think about were oceanic whitetip sharks, he read the book, searched for more books, once he read every book he had he began drawing them in his sketchbook. By about 7 that night Stan began growing curious about what his brother could possibly be doing in the basement all day, without eating or anything. Stan walks to the basement door and begins to bang it.
“FORD COME AND GET YE SOMETHIN TO EAT!”
Stan gets nothing but silence in reply, which didn't help the nerves building up. Stan hated to infringe on Ford’s space too much but he ultimately decided this could be serious. So with that he punched in the basement code and walked downstairs. When he got downstairs he saw Ford at his desk with a pile of books surrounding him. Stan walked a little closer and noticed Ford seemed to be drawing.
“Ford it is about 7 and you haven’t eaten anything all day, gosh, have you even moved?” Stan asks.
Ford jumps in surprise, noticing his brother right behind him. Stan just waits for him to give a response, observing his current state.
“Wait, it's 7 pm?! I could’ve sworn it was still the morning!” Ford exclaims in shock.
Stan nods, “What have you even been doing all day in here?”
“Oh uh I stumbled upon a book about the oceanic whitetip shark while trying to clean up the basement some. So I started reading it and it was all I could think about so I read all the books I had that mentioned it and then started drawing them, then you came down here.” Ford awkwardly explains.
“Ford we really need to talk about your unhealthy obsessions, but right now you really need to eat something”
“Alright Stan, sorry I didn't mean to worry you.”
“Ford don’t worry about it, we just need to find a better system to handle these moments.”
The two of them walk out the basement and into the kitchen. Stan slides Ford a plate of plain noodles, with salt just how Ford likes them, for himself he had spaghetti. Ford’s chest felt heavy, he didn’t like being pulled away from his drawing but he understood why Stan did, he knew how obsessive he could get. The two of them ate in silence, but despite this it felt loud to Ford. Stan and Ford finished their plates and Ford did the dishes. He hated doing the dishes, they were so chaotic. There were so many textures combining in the sink, so many sounds clashing together, but it was only fair since Stan cooked.
“What exactly did you learn about the oceanic whitetip shark, Sixer?” Stan asked.
Ford’s hands began shaking from excitement, as he thought about what fact to share first.
“The females grow larger than the males, and the oceanic whitetip shark can grow up to over 11 feet!” Ford explains
“Oh wow that’s pretty cool Ford!” Stan replies.
With that Ford starts telling Stan everything he has learned about Oceanic whitetip sharks today while Stan listens. Stan had no idea why Ford got so obsessive but he was his brother and would support him however he could, they've only been apart 30 years. After hours of talking about sharks, the ocean, and resurfacing the Stan O’ War dream they parted ways for the night.
“Don’t stay up too late Ford”
“Alright Stan, I will try my best”
Ford went to the basement and continued his drawing well into the night, he didn’t get tired but then again sleep just was rare for him nowadays. So at about 6 in the morning Ford left the basement to make him and Stan breakfast. He made pancakes, just like every other morning, it was a routine he came to really like. He’s always liked routines, even as a kid he’d get upset if his routine changed. Today Ford intended on venturing to the library to find more books about the Oceanic whitetip shark. Ford drinks some coffee and says hello to Stan, he then leaves for the library.
Stan eats his pancakes and receives a video call from his phone.
“Now let’s see who this is….. Oh, it’s Mabel!” Stan says happily before accepting the call right away.
“Hey sweetie, how are you!”
“Hey Grunkle Stan I’m great, how about you and Grunkle Ford?”
“We’re good Mabel, yesterday I had to drag Ford away from his obsession for him to eat, done it since we were kids, thought it would’ve worn off by now.”
“What is he hyper fixating on now Grunkle Stan?”
“What do you mean hyper fixating?! He has been starting to get really obsessed with Oceanic Whitetip Sharks as of late.”
“Grunkle Stan, when some neurodivergent people get unhealthy obsessions seemingly random or only for small time frames it is usually referred to as hyper fixations, because its extreme obsessions where it is all they can physically think about.”
“What?? Neurodiverengce? Is that like ‘special education’ that the stupid kids have?!”
“Grunkle Stan!! Neurodiveregent people aren’t stupid, they have different needs than Neurotypical people which is perfectly okay. Once people accommodate them they end up thriving quite well. I am autistic actually.” Mabel declares
“Wow uh I’m sorry I didn’t know, Ford and I grew up in a time when uh neurological disorders were not good and people who had them were useless. I didn’t mean to be er rude Sweetie”
“It’s okay Grunkle Stan, I know you and Grunkle Ford were raised with different societal norms than Dipper and I. You know how I make all my clothes? I do that because then I can control the textures of the clothes I’m wearing because a lot of textures don’t feel right to me. I assumed Grunkle Ford was also autistic since he wears the same thing everyday, has hyperfixations, and hates bright lights, to name a few of the reasons.”
“Oh really? That is pretty interesting Mabel, do you mind telling me more?”
Stan and Mabel stayed on the phone for another hour or so just talking about autism and challenges that come from it. At the end of the call Stan felt shockingly enlightened. Stan never realized a lot of Ford’s “quirks” were probably due to autism, maybe he should tell Ford when he gets back from the library.
A bit later Ford walks into the Mystery Shack he felt a little bit lighter, somehow he didn’t come home with a stack of books. But he instead came home with multiple diagrams for oceanic whitetip activity, population over the last decade, and some more pictures to use as drawing references and hang around his study. Ford knew it was kind of pathetic that a 58 year old man was this obsessed about a shark, but it’s not his fault sharks are cool.
“Hey Stan, I’m back”
“Oh, hi Ford, how was the library?”
“It was alright, lots of books on the oceanic whitetip, they even gave me a few papers to keep on them, which is pretty cool”
“That was nice of them”
“Yeah, it was”
“Er Ford, I’d like to talk to you about some stuff”
“Oh uh okay Stan”
Ford was nervous, he shouldn’t be considering it was just Stan, he knew it was stupid, but here he was acting childish and tripping over his words.
“Geez Ford stop shakin, you’re not in any trouble or anything, I just wanted to talk to you about something Mabel was telling me about; nothin too bad”
“Oh uh sorry Stan, what did Mabel tell you about today?”
Stan explained what Mabel did about Autism and some of the sensory difficulties that come from it, the hyperfixations, the special interests, the safe foods, ect. They even called Mabel again to have her explain even more about it; it was enlightening to say the least. Ford didn’t know what to say, or what to do but listen and just take it all in. Was this why he always felt alienated from his peers? Was this why he couldn't handle sounds, lights, and tastes that so many other people could? This sudden lightning bolt of knowledge almost made his head spin, he believed he was just a freak for so long and not just because of his hands. To think the answer may have just been that he was autistic it just makes it all feel even more unreal in a way.
“In a way it was nice though to have that validation and explanation to his more unique habits,” He thought to himself as he laid in bed that night and for the first time in a while drifted off to sleep. For the first time in his life Ford didn’t feel like a freak, he felt like Ford, and that’s all he could be, nothing more, nothing less.