The Greatest Sacrifice

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Green trees. Blue sky. Red confusion.

"Oh, uh, hey there...kiddo. What's your name?"

Tears, shouting. Confusion.

"We had to erase his mind to defeat Bill."

More tears. A hug from a stranger, but that felt so right.

"You're our hero, Stanley."

A strange request to switch clothes. A walk through the bright woods.

"It's your place, Grunkle Stan."

What a funny title. He liked the sound of it.

"We saved the world, but what's the point? Grunkle Stan's not himself anymore."

Guilt. Confusion. Black, now. Black confusion.

"Don't you remember anything?"

"I'm sorry. I don't know what this is or who you are."

Stanley didn't want to sit up. He lay on his back in bed, eyes closed. His body ached, his mind ached, his soul ached. Ford claimed that Stanley was still himself, and Stanley felt like himself, but who was "himself" when he didn't have any memories?

"Stanley. That's your name. The kid's call you Grunkle Stan. You may not remember, but does it feel right to you?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it feels right. And who are you?"

"I'm—" A pause to take a shuddering breath. "I'm Ford. Stanford. I'm your twin brother."

A walk to the bathroom, a look in the mirror. Two identical faces, so similar, and yet so different, molded by years of separate experiences.

It wasn't fair to forget your entire life but still have the effects weighing down on you. Stanley knew he was old, and it felt right, but it wasn't fair that he couldn't remember how each line and wrinkle got etched into his face.

"How did I lose my memory?"

A short laugh. "You won't believe me if I tell you."

"Hey, I may not remember my past but I'm still me. Try me."

Ford had been right. It was hard to believe.

"I sacrificed my memory to save the world?" A pause. "I was selfless enough to do that?"

It wasn't the evil-dream-demon-taking-over-the-town part that was hard to believe.

Stanley wasn't sure if it was worth losing his memory to save the world. Not that he would rather have the world destroyed than have his memory; he thought it a worthy sacrifice.

"Soos, I guess that makes you Mr. Mystery."

A sniffle. "I won't let you down, Mr. Pines!"

"Uh...Thanks."

No, losing his memory was fine, if frustrating. It was the effects on those around him that he couldn't bear. People whispering behind their hands, treating him like he had some kind of mental disease. He was still a fully functioning human being, he just couldn't...Remember anything.

And then there were those kids.

"Happy birthday, kiddos."

A small smile. "Thanks, Grunkle Stan."

Watching from behind, standing next to Ford. "I ruined their birthday, didn't I?"

Ford put a hand on his shoulder. "If you hadn't done what you did, they wouldn't have had a birthday at all."

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