Chapter 1: Thirty Long Years
Chapter Text
"Stanley! Stanley, help me!"
"Oh no, what do I do?"
"Stanley, (y/n), do something! (y/n)!"
You sat bolt upright in your bed, your mouth opening wide as you gasped in a deep breath of air. You could feel your heart racing in your chest as you struggled to catch your breath, reaching your hand up to wipe the sweat off of your forehead. You blinked your eyes hard, glancing around at the dark room that you were sitting in. It was your bedroom, not the basement where the portal was. Yet that dream had been so real; you still felt as if you were standing in front of the portal, your entire body frozen in fear as you watched your worst nightmare unfold in front of you. But it wasn't just a dream. As hard as it was to admit to yourself, you were reliving a memory.
Three days ago, a man you had never met showed up on your doorstep. He was a stranger with a familiar face and a familiar name. Of course, you knew that Ford had a twin brother, but it had been so long since they had cut ties that you had never even seen a picture of him. The first time you saw Ford's brother, Ford was ushering him in out of the cold, waving around one of his journals and rambling wildly about showing him something he wouldn't believe. As Ford started making his way toward the stairs, you knew he was talking about the portal.
That portal, as far as you were concerned, was nothing but bad news. Ford had been so excited about building it. He had even confessed to you that he was getting the instructions from a being who called himself Bill Cipher. You had lived surrounded by Gravity Falls' weirdness for long enough to know that things weren't always what they seemed, so you were fairly skeptical of Bill's apparent helpfulness. But Ford trusted him, and you didn't want to stir up trouble, so you didn't voice your concerns. All was fine for awhile, until Fiddleford was almost sucked into the portal. At Fiddleford's urging, Ford finally confronted Bill about the portal, and discovered his true plans.
After that, Ford became paranoid and decided he had to hide his journals to keep the portal from ever being used. You hid one of the journals, Ford hid another, but you were still left with one journal to hide. Ford decided that he needed to get this last journal as far away from Gravity Falls as he could, so he sent a postcard to the one person he thought would be able to help. About a week later, Stanley arrived.
You watched as Ford led his brother down into the portal room. You knew that it was important to Ford that he convinced Stanley to take the journal, so you stayed upstairs and waited. For a few minutes, all was quiet. Then you felt the floor start to shake beneath your feet. You knew from the many times Ford had tested the portal that the rumbling meant the portal had been activated, which was something Ford said he would never do again. Feeling worry start to well up in your chest like the slowly overflowing water in a plugged up sink, you raced down to the basement.
Once the elevator reached the ground, you practically sprinted through the basement. When you reached the doorway to the portal room, your arms reached out to grab onto the doorframe as a means of stopping yourself. Your forearms hit the sides of the doorway, but your body was still being propelled forward by the inertia you had created as you ran, so your upper body leaned into the portal room before being stopped abruptly by your arms' inability to stretch any farther.
As you looked through the doorway and into the portal room, you saw Stanley shove Ford backwards over the caution line that Ford had drawn in front of the portal. Before you could react, Ford was lifted off the ground and pulled towards the portal by an invisible force. You felt frozen, unable to even breathe, as you watched Ford getting closer and closer to the opening of the portal. He called out to Stanley for help, but Stanley didn't know how to stop it. As Ford reached the mouth of the portal, he caught sight of you standing in the doorway. The last words you heard him say were, "(y/n), do something! (y/n)!"
That first night you didn't sleep at all. You sat against the wall in the portal room, staring at the now disabled portal in a daze. You were vaguely aware of Stanley noticing you and trying to talk to you, but his voice sounded distant and you couldn't seem to make out what he was saying. It wasn't until the next day that you really understood what had happened. Ford, your Ford, was gone. The portal was broken and the instructions to fix it were scattered across town. Even if you went to get the journal you had hidden, you had no idea where Ford had hidden his third journal. You didn't know where the portal lead, where Ford was, or if he was even still alive. Now you were alone in the house you once shared, your only company a man that you barely knew anything about, but who looked so much like Ford.
For the next couple of days, you and Stanley simply existed in the same space. You couldn't seem to make yourself talk to him, and he never tried to start a conversation. You weren't sure when it had happened, but the two of you had come to an unspoken agreement that Stanley could stay in your house. You didn't see him often, he spent most of his time in the basement and you didn't have the strength to tell him that trying to fix the portal was not only dangerous, but probably impossible.
You spent those first three days wandering around in a fog, barely eating or sleeping. The house felt empty and quiet now, it's only occupants a stranger in the basement and you, wandering the halls like a sleepwalker in a melancholic dream. The house had once been so full of life and energy, brightened by Ford's mere presence. You remembered the first time you had been in the house, the first time you had met Ford.
Your car had popped a tire on your way home during one of the worst thunderstorms you had ever seen. The clouds were so dark that the sky was almost pitch black, and the rain was coming down in cold, unforgiving sheets. Through the windshield of your stalled car, you could see the faint glow of a lighted window set back in the trees. For a moment, you felt as though you were a sailor lost at sea who had just caught sight of a lighthouse. The thought caused you to laugh softly to yourself. The light you saw was no lighthouse, that was for sure. You could only hope that it was a house with someone home, but your only other alternative was staying in your car for who knows how long until the storm passed.
So you held your coat over your head and ran through the trees to the light, your feet splashing through puddles of mud and freezing rainwater. You were glad to see that your guess was correct, it was indeed a house with a light on. You ran up the steps to the porch, relieved when the roof blocked the rain. You knocked on the door once with no answer, but you were cold and wet so you knocked again, louder this time. The door finally swung open, and you were engulfed in the warm light emanating from the house. There was a man standing in the doorway, looking slightly bewildered to discover you on his porch; a woman who was soaked with rainwater, her makeup running down her cheeks, shaking like a leaf in a strong wind. You could feel your breath catch in your throat as you took him in, a young, handsome man with bright eyes and broad shoulders. He was wearing a pair of glasses that caught the light of the house and reflected it back to you, and a thick turtleneck sweater that your shivering body envied.
You opened your mouth to explain to this man what you were doing on his porch this late in the evening, but instead you just stood there gaping for a moment before he broke the silence. "Come in here, you look like you're freezing to death." He said, reaching out to take you by the arm and pull you into the house. "Thank you." You managed to say, your heart fluttering at the physical contact with this attractive stranger. It was much warmer inside the house, and you could feel your chill starting to subside. "Wait here, I'll go get you a towel." The man said, vanishing down a hallway and leaving you alone in his entryway. You took this time to look around the room; aside from furniture it was mostly filled with papers and books, and what looked like a dinosaur skull in a fish tank. The owner of the house soon returned and handed you a bath towel, which you thanked him for before using it to dry off as much of yourself as you could.
The stranger watched you in silence for a minute before asking you what you were doing outside in the rain. You told him about your broken down car and how your house was on the other side of town. He thought for a moment before telling you that he could take a look at your car as soon as the rain let up, and until then you were welcome to stay inside and warm up. As it would happen, the storm didn't pass for quite some time and you spent the night talking to the man that you had come to know as Stanford Pines. He told you about his research into the mysteries of Gravity Falls, and you told him about all of the strange things you had seen since you had moved to the town.
Ford was intelligent and excitable, and he made for great company. You were amazed to learn that all of the strange creatures that you had seen out of the corners of your eyes were all real, and that Ford had successfully captured many of them to study. You couldn't seem to keep yourself from asking him hundreds of questions about the magical and oftentimes mythical creatures he had encountered. Ford was happy to answer all of your questions, which he assured you with a laugh as you apologized for bombarding him with your queries.
You weren't the only one asking questions though. Ford was interested not just in your experiences with the supernatural, but also in your personal life. You usually wouldn't give out this much of your private information to a stranger, but Ford was so open and charming that you felt as if he wasn't a stranger at all. So you told him about how you had moved to Gravity Falls after graduating from college, found a job at a small local store, and quickly got used to calling the town home.
When the storm finally ended, Ford pulled out a flashlight and used it to light the way through the dark forest as you led him to your car. Ford dug around in the car's trunk for a lug wrench and a spare tire, then set to work on switching the tires out. You couldn't help but stare as he rolled up his sleeves for better mobility, revealing forearms that were more muscular than you were expecting from a guy who spent most of his time in a lab. Ford hummed softly as he worked, stopping every now and then to politely ask you to hold something for him, or move the flashlight to light a certain spot. When he was finished, he stood up from the crouch he had been in and dusted off his hands.
"Well, it looks like you're good to go." Ford said, lightly patting your car as he did so. You thanked him profusely, offering to pay him for fixing your car. Ford only chuckled and waved off your offer, telling you that it was just the neighborly thing to do. Ford then opened the driver's side door of your car and held it so that you could get in. Ford shut the door behind you and you turned on your car, prepared to return home, but feeling almost reluctant to leave. But before you could drive away, Ford motioned for you to roll your window down, which you did eagerly.
"You know (y/n), I rather enjoyed talking with you tonight." He said, sounding strangely nervous. "So did I." You responded, smiling at him and silently encouraging him to go on. "You wouldn't happen to be free sometime this week would you? I've been wanting to go into town but I imagine it would be more fun to go with someone who knows the area." Ford said, reaching up to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. "I would love to show you around!" You said, maybe a little too excitedly. Ford looked back up at you, seeming pleased yet almost surprised. "You would? I mean, that's great! What day is good for you?" He asked. You told him when you were free and the two of you set a day to meet back up and go into town. As you drove down the dirt road towards the town, you looked in your rearview mirror and saw Ford waving at you, his figure illuminated by the bright light of the full moon. You left Ford's house that night with a smile stuck on your face and butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
The next year was one of the best years of your life. It was a whirlwind year full of new-found love and big life changes. You and Ford started spending more and more time together as the months passed. You showed Ford all of your favorite places in Gravity Falls, like Greasy's Diner and the old disco joint that would somehow stay open for another ten years. You started assisting Ford with his research of the town's anomalies. The two of you would spend hours out in the forest searching for creatures and collecting strange samples. Every so often you would stay the night at Ford's house after a long day of research, which made him a nervous wreck at first, but it was something that he gradually warmed up to.
Soon enough, Ford found that he liked having you around. It wasn't long before Ford asked you to move in with him, and you happily accepted the offer. Ford's house, which had been your light in the darkness on the cold and rainy day that you met Ford, soon became home to you. Ford loved having you in the house, he claimed that you made the place seem less like a lab and more like a real home. You joked that it was probably only because you had brought some of your furniture with you and used it to decorate a few of the empty rooms. But Ford was always convinced that it was just the presence of you that made the house more cozy.
Now that he was gone, you knew that you had nothing to do with it. It was Ford who brought warmth and light to the house, and without him everything was different. There was a stillness about the air that hadn't been there before, and a sort of creeping silence that you didn't recognize. Without Ford, the light seemed to be gone from the house. No matter how many lamps you turned on or candles you lit, their light seemed dim, muffled by a darkness that you couldn't scare away.
As you sat in your bed, thinking about Ford, you began to cry. It started off quiet, just a few tears slipping past your lashes before you could stop them. But the more you tried not to, the harder you cried. It occurred to you that in these last three days you hadn't cried once. You had just felt numb since that night, but now that you were in the dark, alone with your thoughts and feelings and memories of Ford, you cried hard enough to make up for the absence of emotion you felt the last few days.
You brought your legs up to your chest and wrapped your arms around them, resting your head on your knees and sobbing into them. You could feel your body shake with the force of your sobs, but you couldn't seem to calm down. You felt, for the first time in your life, as if you were really and truly alone. As if you were once again in that small boat out on the open ocean, but this time there was no lighthouse to guide you safely to shore. Instead, you were trapped, with no one near to help you as the harsh waves rocked your boat without mercy. But then, suddenly, there was someone else with you.
Stanley had been asleep on the couch when he was awoken by the sound of your sobs from a few rooms away. He reacted without thinking, pushing himself off of the couch and stumbling down the dark hallway to your room. Without saying a word, he sat down beside you on the bed and enveloped you in his arms. You stiffened instinctively for a moment before relaxing into his embrace, leaning against his chest as your body was racked with sobs. He smelled faintly of cigarettes and sweat, but his body was warm and, as much as you hated to admit it, you had been desperately craving close contact. Despite sharing a face, he felt much different than Ford. His arms had more muscle, and you could feel that he had a little more weight on around the stomach. It felt strange to you, to be held so intimately by someone who wasn't Ford, but at this point you didn't really mind the differences.
You could feel your tears start to subside as Stanley's presence calmed you. He ran his hands gently up and down your back, and you sighed softly in contentment. You were worn out from your outpouring of emotion, and your eyelids started to droop heavily despite your efforts to stay awake. The rhythmic rise and fall of Stanley's chest as he breathed was the last thing you remembered feeling before you drifted off to sleep.
When you woke back up, daylight was streaming in through the window near your bed, and you had to blink a few times as your eyes adjusted to the bright light. You looked around your bed, unsurprised to find that you were, once again, alone. You assumed that Stanley must have left sometime after you fell asleep. It was warm under the covers, but as you got out of bed, you shivered at the chilliness of the house. Pulling on a jacket and crossing your arms over your chest to keep in what warmth you had left, you exited your room and made your way down the hall to the kitchen.
When you got to the kitchen, you saw Stanley standing at the counter, fiddling with the coffee maker. He must have heard your footsteps in the hallway, because as soon as you stepped through the doorway he turned partially towards you and said, "Mornin'." His greeting surprised you. You were almost certain that he hadn't said a single word to you since the night he arrived. His voice sounded gruff, but not unkind. He seemed to be watching you intently, as if his greeting had been his way of testing the waters and he was now waiting for your reaction.
"Good morning." You responded quietly, moving past him to the refrigerator. "How, uh, how're you feelin'?" Stanley asked, trying to appear nonchalant by returning to his work on the coffee maker, but watching you out of the corner of his eye. "Better." You answered simply, and as you said it, you realized it was true. You did feel better after letting out some of your bottled up emotions. "That's good." Stanley said, sounding somewhat relieved. You watched as he turned his attention back to the coffee maker, his eyebrows furrowing in frustration after he spent a few minutes clicking buttons and flicking levers to no avail. You smiled slightly in amusement as you noticed that the machine wasn't plugged in to the electrical socket.
"Here, let me." You said, stepping closer to the counter. Stanley took a step back to give you more room, and watched as you plugged the coffee maker into the socket. As soon as you did, the machine made a gurgling noise and started pouring coffee into the pot. You turned back to face Stanley, whose cheeks had gone red with embarrassment. "Oh, right. I coulda figured that out." He said, causing you to laugh. As you did, you noticed a smile come to Stanley's face. Unknown to you, Stanley had felt his heart skip a beat when you laughed, and he thought to himself that it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.
When the coffee was finished, Stanley poured some into two mugs and you both sat down at the kitchen table to drink it. It was silent for a few minutes before Stanley spoke up. "So, you're Ford's... girlfriend?" He asked. You nodded in response, taking a sip of your coffee. "Huh. I can't believe poindexter managed to get himself a girl." Stanley said to himself, shaking his head slightly. "What about that is so hard to believe?" You questioned, leaning forward slightly. "Well, you know, Ford's always been a little bit of a... no, not a little bit, he's a huge nerd." Stanley answered. "I know, but he's sweet." You said, chuckling as Stanley looked at you with an unsure expression. "How'd the two of you even meet anyway?" Stanley asked skeptically.
So you told him about the night you met Ford. Stanley listened intently, seeming genuinely interested in your story. You assumed that he was mostly interested in learning about what his brother had been up to since they cut ties. Stanley asked all kinds of questions. Most of them were about you and Ford, Ford's research, the mysteries of the town, and even your life. You were happy to answer his questions, and in return, he told you about his life on the road and his failed business ventures. The two of you talked for hours, making up for three days of silence. You discovered that you really enjoyed Stanley's company, and you had a feeling that Stanley was just as enthused with the conversation as you were.
At first it was strange to you; talking to a man whose face looked exactly like Ford's, but who shared no other similarities with him. But after a while, you became used to it. You spent the next week developing a friendship with Stanley. The two of you spent most of your time in the basement, trying to make sense of the pieces of the portal's blueprints that you had. You only had the first two journals, the one Ford had tried to give to Stanley and the one you had hidden in town. You tried to find the third journal, but there was no way of knowing where Ford had hidden it. Without that journal, the blueprints you had didn't make much sense.
After a few days you started to run low on food. Stanley volunteered to go into town, so you gave him directions to the grocery store and a couple of dollars that you found in your wallet. You realized that, between the two of you, you didn't have very much money. You were short on cash because you had quit your job earlier that year to help with Ford's research full-time, and as for Stanley, you were pretty sure he hadn't had more than ten dollars at one time since the late '50s. Unfortunately for you, Ford had stashed his remaining grant money in a bank account that you didn't have access to, so neither you nor Stanley currently had any way to make money. Until Stanley went into town.
When he came back, he had a group of people following him. You could hear the people chattering away excitedly about finally getting to see where the mysterious scientist lived. You stayed in the kitchen, peeking around the corner to watch as Stanley showed the group random things he found around the living room. They seemed delighted, but you weren't sure you liked having a group of strangers in your house. They didn't stay for too long though, as soon as Stanley ran out of things to interest them with, he ushered the group out the door and told them they'd have to wait to see more at the next tour. When Stanley closed the door, you stepped out of the kitchen and joined him in the entryway.
"Stanley, what-" You started, prepared to berate him for bringing strangers into your house without asking, but he cut you off. "(y/n), look!" He said, slapping a wad of cash onto an end table. Your eyebrows raised in surprise as you stared at the money. There had to be at least a hundred dollars there, if not more. Your gaze drifted back to Stanley, who had the biggest grin on his face that you'd ever seen. "This is all from those people?" You asked, gesturing to the door that the group had just left from. "Yeah, and guess what? They all want to come back tomorrow to see more, and they're fine with paying for it!" Stanley exclaimed. You looked back at the money on the end table, then again to Stanley's grinning face, and changed your mind about not having strangers in the house. "Well in that case, let's get this place cleaned up." You said, shooting Stanley a smile that nearly matched his.
So the two of you spent all night cleaning up the room that Ford had used for his research, which was full of all kinds of strange instruments and samples. You hid most of Ford's things in a closet, and only left out the things that looked really interesting, like the jars of dead creatures and the machines that made noises when you turned them on. Some of the things you left out you weren't so sure about, but Stanley convinced you that he could make anything sound interesting to a paying customer. And, as you found out later, he really could.
The next day, there was a line of nearly forty people standing outside the door. You stayed in the main part of the house while Stanley took the tour into Ford's old research room, showing them everything that you had set out the night before. After an hour, Stanley returned, holding up a stack of bills that was almost three inches thick. "Told ya I could make anything interesting." Stanley said, flashing you that charming grin.
You kept up this same routine for the next few months, finding and even making new things to rotate out with the objects you had in Ford's research room, which you now called the "museum". Before you knew it, Stanley was making enough money off of his tours to pay for bills and food. The tours seemed to be a huge hit with the townspeople, and Stanley started to become something of a local celebrity. Every time you went into town with Stanley, people would stop to talk to him, telling him how much they enjoyed his tours and how they couldn't wait to go back. Stanley's gig became so popular that he decided he had to give the house a name so that it felt more branded, and so he could start advertising more heavily. The two of you spent an hour trying to come up with names, until Stanley finally settled on one he liked.
"How about, the Murder Hut?" He suggested, and you frowned at the name. "Isn't that a little... intense?" You asked, but you could see from the look on Stanley's face that he liked the name and he probably wasn't going to take any criticism from you. "Intensity is what draws crowds (y/n). People like to be intrigued, and what's more intriguing than the implication that people were murdered here?" Stanley countered, proving your suspicions right. "What if the sheriff thinks you're serious about the whole murder thing?" You asked, but Stanley just laughed. "Trust me (y/n), we won't have any trouble with the cops. Stanford Pines has never done a single illegal thing in his life." Stanley said, dropping you a wink.
You felt a pang in your heart as he said Ford's name, but you shook it off. You knew that him taking Ford's name was for the best, especially since Stanley had been in so much trouble with the law over the last few years. He had faked his own death to take on Ford's identity, and he had convinced you that it was necessary to keep the both of you safe. So you slowly got used to calling him Stan instead of Stanley, and you never mentioned Ford when other people were around. If it wasn't for you and Stan, no one in Gravity Falls would even know that Ford was gone. Except perhaps, Fiddleford McGucket, but you weren't sure if he remembered much at all anymore. The last you heard from him he had successfully made a memory erasing device, and he had used it on himself so often that whenever you saw him in town he barely seemed to know who you were.
But you hadn't given up on Ford yet. During the day, Stan gave tours in the museum, but at night, the two of you spent your time working on the portal. Even though it was difficult and frustrating without the third set of blueprints, and you often made little to no headway for weeks on end, you still tried. You and Stan vowed that as long as there was a chance that Ford was still alive, you would try your hardest to fix the portal. No matter what it took.
So you and Stan continued to work on the portal every night for weeks, which turned into months, which turned into years. As the seasons changed, so did things at the house. "The Murder Hut" unsurprisingly wasn't a very popular name, so you convinced Stan to change it to something a little more tame. He finally settled on "The Mystery Shack" which visitors seemed to love. Now that the house had a proper name, Stan had it printed on shirts and bumper stickers to sell to visitors. You even cleaned out Ford's old storage room and converted it into a gift shop to sell whatever new merchandise Stan could get his hands on. Every few weeks you would add new attractions to the museum. Sometimes those new attractions would be things you found among Ford's stuff, other times they would be things that Stan had found around the house or at the store and glued together. Over time, Stan developed a character that he put on during tours. He called himself "Mister Mystery," and he wore a hat and whatever dress shirt and tie that you could find for cheap at the store.
But the biggest change wasn't a new name or new merchandise, it was the developing relationship between you and Stan. The two of you had become comfortable and friendly with each other, but the more time you spent together, the deeper your feelings seemed to get. At first you hid your feelings from Stan. Partly because you weren't sure if he felt the same way or not, but mostly because you were ashamed. Even though Ford had been gone for years now, you still felt like you were cheating on him in a way, and with his identical twin no less. But when Stan finally worked up the courage to ask you out on a date, you couldn't find it in yourself to say no.
The first date you and Stan went on was to Greasy's Diner, whose head waitress was a woman named Susan who had been a regular visitor during the early days of the Mystery Shack. When you walked in, Susan spotted you and immediately walked over to say hi. "Well, if it isn't Mister and Missus Mystery. I was hopin' I'd see you two come by the diner again!" Susan greeted cheerfully. Stan glanced at you and mouthed "Again?" but you waved him off and gave him a look that told him you would explain later. You thought it was probably best not to tell Stan that the restaurant he had chosen for your first date was the same restaurant that his twin brother had taken you to on many of your dates. "Well, it is the best restaurant in town." You said, at which Susan smiled brightly. You looked back over at Stan, who had gotten unusually quiet, and noticed him trying to avoid staring at Susan's lazy eye with a somewhat guilty look on his face. "I'm sure glad you did, it's been much too long since I've seen y'all! Let me show you to a table." Susan responded, leading you and Stan to a booth near the back of the diner.
As you sat down, Susan took your orders, then disappeared into the kitchen. "This really is the best restaurant in town. Even though there are only three other restaurants." You said casually, looking around at the brightly lit diner. "Uh-huh." Stan responded, fidgeting with the buttons on his shirt cuffs. You regarded him in silence for a moment, making note of his newly cut hair, his freshly shaven face, and the sheen of sweat on his forehead. You could tell that he had really tried hard to look good for tonight, and that he was uncharacteristically nervous.
"Stan, what's the matter?" You asked, knowing him well enough to know that there was something on his mind. "Nothin'." He grunted, his gaze fixed on his hands. "Stanley." You said, low enough that the other patrons in the diner couldn't hear. Your use of his full name caused him to look up at you in surprise. He was silent for a moment, seeming as if he was weighing his options, then he sighed. "I'm sorry, it's just- It's been awhile since I've been out with with a girl that I really liked, ya'know? I don't wanna... mess this up." Stan admitted, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, which caused Stan to ask, "What?" with a look of confusion on his face. "You... really like me?" You asked teasingly.
Stan saw the glimmer of amusement on your face and rolled his eyes defensively. "Yeah, yeah, yuck it up. You're the one who asked." He grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. "Stan," you started, trying to contain your laughter, "I'm only joking. I really like you too." At this, Stan looked back up at you, searching your face to see whether you were being serious or not. "You do?" Stan asked. "Yeah, of course I do, don't sound so surprised. Why would I have gone out on a date with you if I didn't?" You responded, causing Stan to shrug. "I don't know, I kinda thought you just felt sorry for me." He answered. "Stan, no. I said yes because I wanted to go out with you. I've been waiting for you to ask for awhile." You confessed. That seemed to be the confidence boost that Stan needed, because after that he was back to his usual suave persona.
Susan reappeared with your food and told you to let her know if you needed anything, then hurried off to serve other customers. The rest of your date went well; now that neither of you were nervous, it felt just how hanging out together usually did. The two of you talked about the Shack and how successful it was, Stan talked about his plans for new attractions, and you suggested putting a sign up on the roof so tourists knew what to look for. After you had finished your food and talked for a couple of hours, Stan suggested casually that you go out for a drive. You agreed, even though you figured Stan must have some ulterior motive.
Sure enough, you were right. You couldn't keep yourself from laughing as Stan parked the car at Lookout Point, a spot that had gained popularity among local teens as a great spot to sit in their car with their partners for some uninterrupted alone time. "What?" Stan asked, trying and failing to look offended at your laughter. "Lookout Point? What are we, high schoolers?" You asked, causing Stan to chuckle. "Ah, come on. We've been workin' pretty hard lately, I think we've earned the right to act a little immature every now and then." He said, and you didn't miss the sly grin on his face as he did.
"Actually, there are two flaws in that logic." You pointed out. "Oh yeah? And what would those flaws be?" Stan asked, regarding you with a quirked brow. "Well, firstly, you act immature most of the time." You teased, which earned you a "Hey!" and an indignant look from Stan. "Second, you said that we've been working hard, but I haven't been working much at all. The Mystery Shack is all you." You finished, gesturing vaguely at Stan with your last sentence. "Pshh, that's not true. I may give the tours but the Shack wouldn't last a week without you." Stan said. You shook your head and opened you mouth to contend, but Stan cut you off. "I'm serious (y/n). I don't think I could run the Shack alone. I don't even know if the Shack would exist if it weren't for you. I might have just spent the rest of my life in the basement trying to fix that damn portal. I don't know where I'd be without you." Stan said, his joking attitude completely replaced by a serious expression.
You were taken aback by how genuine and open Stan was being with you, and you had no idea how to respond to that confession. The silence between the two of you was thick as you stared at each other from either side of the car. A new and unexpected urge overtook you, and you realized that you had been subconsciously leaning towards Stan. It wasn't just you, Stan was moving closer to you as well. For just a moment, you thought 'Oh God, is he about to kiss me?', and then a split second later he closed the distance and captured your lips with his.
That night was the start of a relationship that lasted for the next twenty-five years. After the first three years of dating, Stan finally proposed to you. You said yes, and a year later you got married. You had always been told that your wedding would be the happiest day of your life, but you never truly believed that until your wedding actually happened. You and Stan had a small ceremony surrounded by friends and family, but you would have been just as happy if it had only been the two of you.
Although Stan wasn't much of a cryer, you were certain that you saw him wipe away a few tears as you walked down the aisle. You shed a few tears yourself as you and Stan took your vows. Finally, you said "I do." and realized that you truly meant those two words, more than anything else you had ever said before. When it was time for Stan to kiss the bride, he took you in his arms and dipped you towards the floor in typical Stan fashion. Your squeak of alarm was muffled by Stan planting his lips on yours, and you almost rolled your eyes as you heard your guests laugh at the two of you. When Stan pulled you back up, he had the biggest grin on his face and you could see a look of pure, unadulterated joy sparkling in his eyes.
At your wedding, you met Stan's younger brother Sherman for the first time. Stan had refused to invite anyone else from his family, and you hadn't pushed the subject. Sherman was nice, and he was glad to reconnect with his brother after so many years apart. Of course, he thought that it was Ford he was talking to, and luckily he didn't seem to suspect anything. Sherman returned the favor by inviting you and Stan to his wedding, and then the birth of his kids. He and his wife would take the kids up to the Mystery Shack when they were young, and you enjoyed having them around. When Sherman's kids grew up and one had kids of their own, Sherman invited you down to see them.
Sherman's grandkids, you and Stan's great niece and nephew, were a pair of twins named Mason and Mabel. They were the cutest kids you had ever seen, and you immensely enjoyed the week you and Stan spent with them. But you soon had to return to Gravity Falls and the Mystery Shack. The Shack had become a popular tourist destination by then, so it was busier than ever. More customers meant more work, and more work meant it was hard for you and Stan to take the time off to go visit Sherman's family. As Mason, who now went by the nickname Dipper, and Mabel got older, they were busy with school and friends, so their parents could never find the time to take them up to the Shack. But you missed your great niece and nephew, so when their parents called and asked if they could send the twins up to spend the summer with you and Stan, you happily agreed.
Stan wasn't so sure about it at first, of course he loved the twins but he thought that he had never been very good with kids and he didn't know what to do with two preteens for a whole summer. You convinced him that it would be fine. After all, they were old enough to fend for themselves most of the time so it couldn't be that hard to take care of them. Of course, you didn't really know for sure because you and Stan had never had any kids of your own. But you never got to spend very much time with the twins, so you thought it was at least worth a try.
Mabel was easy. After her initial, "What even is there to do in this town?", she actually warmed up to the place pretty quickly. You discovered that Mabel's creative tendencies extended to the kitchen, so she became your cooking buddy. Even if her food wasn't always edible, you still enjoyed spending time making it with her. Dipper, on the other hand, was still on the fence about the whole situation. It didn't help that Stan liked to make Dipper do the more unfavorable odd jobs around the Shack, which often led to the two butting heads. Dipper had the tendency to be serious and closed off, which reminded you a lot of Ford. You knew from experience with Ford that you couldn't pressure him into being sociable, or he might shut you all out entirely. So you were patient, and you convinced Stan to go a little easier on him, and eventually Dipper came around.
A few weeks after the twins arrived, Dipper started mentioning things that were out of the ordinary. At first it just seemed like regular kid paranoia, like thinking Mabel's boyfriend was a zombie, or being convinced that things were watching him when he was alone in the woods. But then he started talking about things like a sea monster in the lake, and ghosts in the old convenience store. He was convinced that there were strange and mythical creatures living in the woods around Gravity Falls. You knew it couldn't be a coincidence, he had to have encountered something from the stranger side of Gravity Falls. You voiced your concerns to Stan, and he shared your worries. Stan decided it would be safer to keep the twins away from the weirdness of the town, and he made you promise to deny any supernatural activity should Dipper or Mabel ever ask you about it.
At first it didn't seem like it would be a very big deal, but as the months passed it became harder and harder to lie to the twins, especially when Dipper was almost constantly confronting you and Stan about it. You started to wonder how Dipper knew about everything supernatural in Gravity Falls, and how he was able to name specific creatures that you were sure he had never seen in the forest. You got your questions answered later that summer.
After a run-in with a child psychic named Gideon Gleeful in which you almost lost the Mystery Shack, you were cleaning up in the living room when Stan came running down the stairs, nearly losing his balance at the end but catching himself on the railing. "Stan, what's going on?" You asked, so startled that you nearly dropped the broom you were holding. "(y/n), they found it." Stan responded, almost out of breath from practically flying down a flight of stairs. "Who found what?" You questioned, leaning the broom against the wall and making your way over to Stan. He pulled a book out from behind his back, and the sight of it made you stop in your tracks.
You could feel your jaw drop and your breath catch in your throat as you stared at the object in Stan's hand. "The kids. They've had it the whole summer, that's why they kept asking all those questions about the town." Stan explained, but you barely heard him. You felt like your thoughts were racing through your mind at a million miles an hour. The book Stan was holding was one that you thought you might never see again. But after all these years, you finally had it. Ford's third journal. You had searched for it for thirty years to no avail, and somehow the twins had stumbled upon it within their first month in Gravity Falls.
But that didn't matter now. What mattered was getting that journal to the basement to add it to the other two. You said this aloud to Stan, and he nodded his head in agreement. Stan checked over his shoulder to make sure the twins were still upstairs, and once he decided the coast was clear, the two of you made your way to the gift shop. Stan quickly punched the code into the vending machine, which swung open to reveal the passageway behind it. You followed Stan down the stairway to the elevator, reaching out to brush your palm against the six-fingered handprint on the wall as you passed by it.
The trip down the elevator felt as if it took forever. You stood next to Stan, your fingers tapping impatiently against your thighs, watching the indicator count the floors as you descended past them. When the doors finally opened, you strode to the control panel and pulled out the other two journals, flipping them open to the pages with the portal's blueprints. Stan opened the third journal and, for the first time in thirty years, reunited Ford's journals. The details on the pages matched up like puzzle pieces, and you and Stan turned to look at each other with expressions of uncontainable excitement.
Using the instructions on the blueprints, you were able to turn on the portal from the control panel. As the lights on the portal's frame started to turn on, Stan shouted "It's working!" and ran to pull the lever in front of the portal. The symbols around the opening of the portal lit up, and a bolt of electricity shot out from the center. You quickly pressed a few buttons on the control panel, causing the screen above your head to turn on. Small sections popped up on the screen, labelled with words like 'sector' and 'statistics'. The words "Auto Scan" flashed on the large middle section, then the scanner turned on and started displaying strange symbols in all of the smaller sections. Stan reappeared next to you at the control panel, glanced briefly at the blueprints, then pulled on one of Ford's old rubber gloves and pulled a switch on the wall. The lights on the portal brightened to such an intensity that you raised a hand to cover your eyes, and the ground started to rumble in that all too familiar way.
Stan turned to look at you, a triumphant grin on his face. "It finally works! After all these years..." He said, trailing off and shaking his head to dispel the far-off look that had settled over his face like a thick fog. "We're not quite there yet. The instructions say that the portal needs fuel, and the fuel gauge looks to be about empty. I think that steel drum over there might have some fuel left in it, but we're gonna need a lot more." You explained, causing Stan to furrow his brows. "What kind of fuel?" He asked gruffly, and you pointed to the journals. Stan walked over to stand behind you, peering over your shoulder at the blueprints. He was silent for a second before nodding to himself and saying, "I'll handle that. You just worry about keepin' the kids off our trail." You agreed to that, and the two of you went back upstairs.
"The kids can't know that we want the journal or they'll get suspicious. I'm gonna copy the pages so I can give the journal back to Dipper if he asks for it." Stan told you as soon as you reentered the gift shop. That sounded reasonable enough, so you waited while Stan took the journal to the copy machine and copied all the pages that looked important. After he did, he handed you the journal and asked you to put it under the counter in the gift shop so no one else would run across it on accident. As you took the journal to the counter, you ran your fingers across the cover and felt an ache in your heart from an old wound that had never quite healed. But this was no time to be sentimental, you still had quite a bit of work ahead of you if you wanted to reopen the portal. So you hid the journal under the counter and joined Stan in the living room. It seemed that everything would go smoothly from here on out, but unfortunately, that is never the case.
The next morning you officially reopened the Mystery Shack, to the delight of the townspeople. Stan announced the grand reopening party, and then it was back to business as usual. You noticed Dipper ask Stan about the journal, who returned it nonchalantly and said something about how it was so boring that he couldn't finish reading it. After that, Dipper and Mabel ran off to their room, talking excitedly amongst themselves. "Hey, Mr. Pines, what's that code word I'm supposed to yell when I see a government vehicle?" You heard Soos ask from where he stood at the window. "Wait, what? Government vehicle?" Stan repeated, moving to stand beside Soos at the window.
Stan's confused expression quickly morphed into one of alarm and he ran over to the gift shop's intercom, yelling into the microphone that the gift shop was closed and everyone had to leave. As the startled customers made their way to the exit, Dipper and Mabel rushed back into the gift shop and asked what was happening. Stan didn't answer their questions and instead started to pace across the floor, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead. The gift shop doorbell rung, causing everyone inside to freeze. Then, a few knocks sounded from the door, and Stan strode over to open it. As he did, he greeted the two men like he would any other customer, offering up merchandise and maybe even money, but you couldn't quite tell from where you were standing. The men at the door ignored his bribe and introduced themselves as government agents Powers and Trigger who were here to investigate reports of mysterious activity.
"Mysterious activity? In the Mystery Shack? You gotta be joking!" Stan exclaimed, gesturing to the objects around him. The agent who seemed to be in charge assured him that he was not joking, then the agents stepped inside the gift shop to conduct their investigation. "Wait, wait! Did you guys say you're investigating the mysteries of this town?" Dipper asked, running up to Agent Powers. "That information is classified." Powers responded, before glancing around and kneeling down in front of Dipper. He said something that you couldn't quite catch, and Dipper's face lit up. He started chattering away excitedly, holding up the journal in front of Powers' face. Powers handed Dipper a business card and told him that if he had evidence of his claims, they should talk. "We can talk right now! Please, please, come in! I have so much to show you!" Dipper exclaimed, starting to lead Agent Powers further into the Shack.
You turned to look at Stan, your eyes wide with alarm. He caught your look and quickly stepped in between Dipper and the agent, apologizing for the kid's "overactive imagination" and "sweating problem". Mabel laughed at the latter and called out "Zing!" which caused Dipper to glare at her. "Paranormal town stuff is just part of gift shop lore. Sells more tickets, you know?" Stan explained, snapping his fingers at Soos who happily placed headbands and bumper stickers on the agents. Somehow, Agent Powers' frown deepened. "We have other spots to investigate. We'll be on our way." Powers said, turning to exit the gift shop with his partner, who grabbed a handful of bobble heads that he claimed he was "confiscating for evidence."
As the gift shop's door shut behind the agents, you breathed an audible sigh of relief and noticed the tension release from Stan's shoulders. "Wait! No, wait! We've got so much to talk about!" Dipper called out, starting to run after the agents. Stan instinctively held out an arm to stop Dipper. "Hold it kiddo. Trust me, the last thing you want around during a party is cops." Stan said, casually leaning against the vending machine, which snapped shut over the opening to the basement. It was a good thing Stan had caught that, because you hadn't even noticed it was open. If one of those agents had found the entrance to the basement, everything would be over. You felt your stomach sink at that revelation.
"I'm confiscating that card." Stan said, pulling the agent's business card out of Dipper's hand and placing it in his contraband box among a handful of other things he had collected over the years. "Now how's about you try being a normal kid. Flirt with a girl, or steal a pie off a window sill." Stan said, turning towards the entrance to the living room. "But Grunkle Stan! You don't understand!" Dipper argued, but Stan ignored him. "And don't go talking to those agents." Stan said just before he stepped out of the room. "Ugh! That could have been my big break!" Dipper exclaimed in frustration. Mabel went over to console him, so you followed Stan upstairs to your room.
"What are we gonna do about that?" You asked as you reached the doorway to your bedroom. Stan locked his contraband box in his safe before turning to you and sighing. "I don't know yet. But it shouldn't take long to get the portal up and running, so if we can just keep them away for the next week or two we should be in the clear." Stan responded. "But if those two agents find any reason to come sniffing around the Shack-" You started, gesturing behind you in the vague direction of the gift shop. Stan grabbed your hands gently and held them in his to calm you. "(y/n), as long as Dipper can't get in contact with them, those two agents won't have any reason to be poking around here. We don't have anything to worry about now. We're in the home stretch." He reasoned, and you nodded your head slowly. "Okay, you're right. If we can just get through these next few weeks, everything will be fine." You said, mostly to convince yourself.
"Exactly." Stan responded, kissing you softly on your lips. You leaned into the kiss, feeling yourself relax as you did. You knew that no matter what happened, as long as Stan was around, everything would be okay. He would find a way to keep the agents at a distance and get more fuel for the machine, and then you would be able to reopen the portal after these thirty long years of trying. But in the meantime, you had a party to set up for.
You and Stan enlisted the help of the twins, Wendy, and Soos. The six of you spent the next few hours cleaning, decorating, and making snacks in preparation for the grand reopening party. Just before the guests started to arrive, you sat down to rest your feet for a minute. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of Dipper and Wendy sneaking back into the Shack. At first you were only casually interested in what they might be up to, but as the minutes passed you started to get concerned. You told yourself it could just be typical kids sneaking off with no particular motive, but you knew Dipper too well, and you knew he must be up to something he shouldn't. You glanced over to Stan, who was being distracted by Mabel and therefore hadn't noticed Dipper and Wendy sneak away.
Something suddenly clicked in your mind and you realized that they must be looking for the card that Agent Powers gave to Dipper earlier in the day. You quickly stood up and made your way over to Stan, telling him about what you had just been thinking. Stan frowned and looked toward the Shack, then muttered, "That damn kid." under his breath before striding over to the door of the Shack. You followed behind him, glancing around the inside of the Shack and seeing that Dipper and Wendy were definitely not on the first floor. As you and Stan walked up the stairs, you saw Wendy in the hallway looking at her phone. She heard your footsteps and looked up, seeming startled for a moment before an expression of guilt crossed her face.
Stan pushed past her and opened the door to your room, inside of which Dipper was standing, talking hurriedly into the phone. Stan reached over and pressed a button on the phone to end the call, causing Dipper to gasp in surprise. Wendy apologized to Dipper, presumably for not warning him that Stan was coming, and showed him a picture on her phone as an explanation for her being distracted. "Kid, why did you call those agents? I've told you once, I've told you a hundred times, there's nothing supernatural going on in Gravity Falls!" Stan exclaimed, grabbing the phone from Dipper and forcefully returning the receiver to it's base.
"Yes there is! After everything that's happened you have to know that by now!" Dipper argued, but Stan only shook his head in frustration. "All I know is that your dumb obsession is gonna get us all in trouble one of these days. Now go enjoy the rest of the party, 'cause when it's over, you're grounded!" Stan said with finality. Dipper looked to you, silently pleading with you to make Stan see sense, but you avoided his gaze. When he saw that it was useless to continue fighting, Dipper sent Stan one last scathing glare before leaving the room, Wendy following behind him.
As they left, Stan sighed. You reached out and put your hand on his shoulder. "I hate havin' to be so hard on him sometimes, but he just won't listen. Once that kid gets an idea about something he just can't let it go." Stan said, and you nodded sympathetically. "Just like Ford." You added softly, that familiar ache in your heart growing stronger as you said it. Stan looked to you and his expression looked the way you felt. "I know. He acts so much like Ford did." Stan said, looking lost in his memories. It was quiet for a moment before Stan shook off his old ghosts and the two of you headed back downstairs.
You were going to return to the party, but Stan convinced you to accompany him to the basement instead. "Are you sure I shouldn't keep watch out there just in case?" You asked. "Ah, the kids can handle it. Besides, I think I saw Sheriff Blubbs show up with his partner earlier, so there's at least some form of law enforcement here if the kids need any help." Stan responded, which put your concerns to rest. So you followed Stan to the basement, and all seemed fine for awhile. Then, you heard the faint sounds of screams and breaking glass from upstairs.
You and Stan glanced at each other, but neither of you even had to say what you were thinking to know that the other was thinking the same thing. The two of you were upstairs in no time at all, Stan armed with the baseball bat he kept in the basement. The Shack was swarming with the grotesque, decaying corpses of the re-animated dead. You vaguely remembered Ford dedicating a page in his third journal to zombies and how to summon them, and you cursed yourself for not ripping that part out before giving the journal back to Dipper. Speaking of Dipper, he was in the back of the gift shop with Mabel, screaming as a zombie grabbed him by the arm. As soon as Stan caught sight of Dipper, he leapt into action. Stan had to fight his way to the twins, receiving scratches and rips in his suit, before he was able to hit the zombie that had ahold of Dipper.
"You two! Attic, now!" Stan said, pointing in the direction of the stairs. The twins didn't move at first, instead staring wide-eyed at Stan. "G-Grunkle Stan?" Dipper asked, his voice laced with shock. "I said NOW!" Stan yelled, causing Dipper to get to his feet quickly. "(y/n), make sure they get up there!" Stan directed, as the twins started to run into the living room. You followed Dipper and Mabel up the stairs to their room, keeping an eye on Stan as he followed behind the three of you, fending off the hoard of the undead that limped after you. As you got to the attic, Dipper slammed the door shut behind the three of you, and you all stood waiting with bated breath.
Something started banging heavily on the outside of the door, and you quickly weighed your options. You figured that there was about a fifty percent chance that it was Stan on the other side of that door, and not a zombie. But if it was a zombie, you would be putting the twins in danger by opening the door. Luckily, before you had to make a decision you might regret, the door opened on it's own. Stan stumbled into the room, groaning "Everything hurts." before closing the door behind him and barricading it with a chair. You felt a sense of relief wash over you as you saw that Stan was okay. His suit was torn, and he had a scrape on his chin, but other than that he didn't appear to be seriously injured. You stepped over to him and put a hand on his arm, and as you did, Stan leaned against you for support, his hand clutching his side.
"Grunkle Stan, that was amazing! Are you alright?" Dipper asked, waiting for Stan to nod before adding, "Heh heh, well, at least you guys can't deny magic exists anymore, right?" You and Stan looked at each other, and Stan sighed before turning back to Dipper. "Kid, we've always known." Stan said, causing Dipper's eyebrows to arch in surprise. "Wait, what are you talking about?" Dipper questioned, searching you and Stan's faces for some kind of explanation. "I'm not an idiot, Dipper! Of course this town is weird! And the one thing I know about that weirdness is that it's dangerous!" Stan answered. At that moment, one of the zombies managed to punch through the door, and you all backed away from it. "We've been lying about it to try to keep you away from it. To try to protect you from it!" Stan confessed, pausing as a zombie broke it's way through the window. Stan punched the zombie and it fell backwards, but there were still countless others outside, staring up at you through the broken window. "It looks like I didn't lie well enough." Stan muttered, staring out across the crowd of undead bodies.
"What do we do, what do we do?" Mabel asked frantically, drawing Stan's attention from the window. "Well, normally the journal would help us, but there's nothing in there about defeating zombies! It's hopeless!" Dipper responded, pacing the floor for a moment before stopping next to one of the black lights Stan had bought for the party flyers. A glimmer on one of the journal's pages caught your eye, and you squinted at it to get a better view of what looked like words glowing on the paper. "Wait, wait, wait! The text! It's glowing in the black light!" Mabel exclaimed as she came to the same realization as you. "What?" Dipper questioned, holding the journal next to the black light and flipping through the pages. "All this time I thought I knew all the journal's secrets, but they're written in some kind of invisible ink!" Dipper said excitedly.
"Invisible ink?" Stan asked, turning to look at you questioningly. You shook your head at him to indicate that you were just as bewildered by this as he was. You had never seen any invisible ink in the house, not even in the basement. You felt a sinking feeling in your chest as you realized it could have been hidden in Ford's private study, which he had always told you never to enter. Until today, you were so sure that Ford had always been open and honest with you. But now, it seemed you didn't know as much about Ford as you previously thought.
You were snapped out of your thoughts by Dipper reading off the previously invisible instructions on how to defeat the zombies. "Their skulls can be shattered by a perfect three part harmony." Dipper read, looking around at all of you with a slightly confused expression. "Three part harmony. How can we create that?" Dipper asked, adding that he had a naturally high-pitched scream. Stan offered that he could make noises with his body, sometimes intentionally. "Boys, boys. I think you're both missing the obvious solution." Mabel said, glancing over at you with a mischievous grin. "Ah, Love Patrol Alpha." You said, nodding in agreement. Upon hearing the name of Mabel's dream karaoke group, Dipper and Stan turned to each other in alarm.
You helped Mabel retrieve her karaoke machine, and soon the four of you were standing on the roof of the Shack, looking out over the zombies lingering below. Since it only had to be a three part harmony, Mabel let you off the hook. While the three of them took the karaoke machine, you held a golf club that you found in the attic so that you could fend off the zombies that were climbing up the walls. Stan argued that you should be singing with the twins while he fought off the zombies, but Mabel dismissed his complaint on the grounds that she had already heard you sing, but she had never heard Stan sing. Stan muttered something about how there was a reason she had never heard him sing, but Mabel shushed him and turned the karaoke machine on.
As the three of them sang along to the music, you swung the golf club at the heads of the zombies that made it up to where you stood on the roof. Dipper and Stan clearly were not having as much fun as Mabel, and you would almost laugh at their discomfort if this wasn't such a dire situation. As the song went on, and they started to sing in harmony, the zombies started grabbing their heads and covering their ears. Then suddenly, their heads started to explode. One by one, the bodies of the undead started to drop to the ground, their heads bursting open and flinging thick, green blood across the yard.
One last zombie crawled it's way up to the roof and reached for Dipper, who screamed and stumbled backwards. Mabel yelled out "DUCK!" and shot the zombie with her confetti cannon. The zombie's head went spinning through the air like a well-thrown football and landed directly in the punch bowl. "Thank you! We'll be here all night!" Mabel exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. The sun started to rise over the treetops, and as it did it illuminated the headless corpses scattered around the yard. "Deal with it, zombie idiots!" Stan shouted, laughing to himself as he did. Stan started chanting "Pines! Pines! Pines!" and you and the twins quickly joined in. Stan wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side, looking down at you with that signature Stan Pines grin.
Soon, the four of you were back in the living room looking around at all of the damage the zombies had caused. Stan found his fez on the floor and brushed off the dirt before putting it on his head. "I'm sorry about this guys. I totally ruined everything." Dipper apologized. "Dipper, are you kidding me? I got to sing karaoke with my favorite people in the world! No party could ever top that." Mabel reassured him, causing Dipper to smile appreciatively. "Kids, listen. This town is crazy, so you need to be careful. I don't know what I'd do with myself if you got hurt on my watch. I'll let you hold onto that spooky journal, as long as you promise me you'll only use it for self defense, and not go looking for trouble." Stan said, his tone serious. "Okay, as long as you promise me that you don't have any other bombshell secrets about this town." Dipper bargained.
"Promise." Stan said, but you caught a glimpse of his fingers crossing behind his back. "Promise." Dipper repeated, and you had a feeling that he was secretly crossing his fingers as well. "Well, it looks like we've got a lot of zombie damage to clean up." You said, which caused Stan to look around the room with a frown. "Oh yeah. Where's my handyman anyway?" Stan asked. To answer Stan's question, a zombified Soos stumbled into the room groaning "Brains... Braaaains!"
"Holy Moses!" Stan shouted, grabbing a chair and preparing to hit Soos with it. "Wait! There's a page in here about curing zombification. It's gonna take a lot of formaldehyde." Dipper said, flipping the journal open to the page he was looking for. "Ooh, and cinnamon!" Mabel exclaimed as she leaned over to read the journal. "Come on Soos, let's fix you up." Dipper said as Mabel grabbed a chair and used it to start prodding Soos out of the room. "Brains!" Soos continued to groan as Mabel pushed him toward the kitchen. "Soos, cut it out!" Mabel said exasperatedly, to which Soos responded "Heheh, sorry dude."
As the kids and Soos went into the kitchen, you and Stan were left alone in the wreckage of the living room. Stan slipped out of his jacket, frowning as he held it up and inspected the ripped fabric. "Are you okay?" You asked softly, reaching out to put your hand on Stan's shoulder. "Ah, come on. I'm not too old for a good old fashioned fist fight." Stan responded with a smirk. "Looks like I'm gonna have to get a new suit though." He added, gesturing to the holes in his suit jacket. "We'll go to the store tomorrow and get you a new one." You said, taking the jacket from Stan and folding it up neatly. "What are we gonna do about those two?" Stan asked, gesturing in the direction of the doorway. From the kitchen, you heard Dipper and Mabel laughing amongst themselves. You sighed and shook your head. "I'm not sure, but hopefully after tonight they've learned not to go after trouble." You replied, to which Stan grunted in agreement.
As usual, that wasn't the case. Over the next few weeks the twins got up to all sorts of things, often coming home with scrapes and bruises after spending hours outside by themselves. Whenever you asked what they had been up to, Dipper would try to convince you that they were just up to typical kid things like building forts and playing in the woods. You could always count on Mabel for the truth though, and she would happily give you a detailed, in-depth account of their adventures. According to Mabel, she and Dipper found Ford's bunker in the forest. Of course, they only knew that the bunker belonged to the author of the journal that Dipper had found earlier this summer.
You had to pretend to be only mildly interested as Mabel told you her thrilling tale of discovering the bunker, nearly being crushed in the security room, and defeating the shapeshifter. You remembered when Ford found the shapeshifter and brought it to his bunker to observe it. You used to spend time down there with Ford while he conducted experiments on various creatures that he had captured in the woods. The bunker was reserved for the more dangerous creatures; the research area of the bunker had only been built after an incident involving a gremloblin that nearly resulted in the destruction of the Shack. Ford had asked Fiddleford to build cryo-chambers and an observation room protected by shatter-proof glass so that Ford could continue his research in a more secure area.
When Ford first brought the shapeshifter to the bunker he let it roam freely in his research room, as it didn't seem to cause much trouble. But as time went on, the shapeshifter developed a form of sentience and started to mimic Ford's speech. At first, Ford was amazed by the rapid evolution of the creature, which led him to conduct more experiments on it. After a few months of this, the shapeshifter decided that it didn't want to be experimented on anymore, and it started to fight back. You tried to tell Ford that it wasn't safe, but he was certain that he could handle it. Unfortunately, the shapeshifter became so violent that Ford couldn't handle it on his own, and it gave Ford a pretty bad beating one night when he had gone to the bunker alone. After that, Ford kept the shapeshifter in one of the cryo-chambers when he wasn't researching it, and he never let it out while he was alone.
You were surprised to hear that the shapeshifter was still alive, and out of its cryo-chamber. You hadn't been in the bunker since before Ford was pulled into the portal, and after that you had almost entirely forgotten about the shapeshifter. Mabel said that it tricked Dipper by taking the form of a mascot for a canned bean company, and that it was able to speak as well as a person. This was news to you, as the last time you had seen it unfrozen it had only been able to speak in broken sentences. You knew if Ford heard that it was now fluent in the English language he would be amazed. You were glad to hear that the kids had successfully returned it to a cryo-chamber, and that they all escaped with only minor injuries. You told Mabel to keep Dipper from going back to the bunker because it sounded very dangerous. She replied that she was never going back there, and she didn't think Dipper would want to either since the only interesting thing he found down there was a laptop.
"A laptop?" You asked, frowning slightly. "Yeah, like a computer but smaller." Mabel replied, causing you to laugh. "I know what a laptop is, Mabel. What did Dipper do with it?" You questioned further. "He took it home to investigate it. I don't think it works though, it looks really old." Mabel answered with a shrug. You knew that it must be Fiddleford's old computer. You were surprised that he had left in in the bunker, but you guessed that he hadn't wanted to come back for it after his incident with the portal. You briefly wondered if Fiddleford's laptop had any other portal instructions, but you knew you wouldn't be able to get it away from Dipper without having to explain why you wanted it. So you scratched that idea, and you didn't hear anything else about the laptop after that.
Finding Ford's bunker wasn't the only dangerous activity the twins got up to that summer. Mabel readily told you stories of tiny golfball people living in the mini-golf course, a dating simulator character that escaped her game and wrecked a children's restaurant, the discovery of a secret society, and many other things that made you concerned for the twins' safety. The story that really alarmed you was Mabel's account of what had happened behind the scenes of her sock puppet opera. This was the first story that Mabel didn't immediately dive into the moment you asked her how her day was. For the first time that summer, Mabel tried to get out of telling you her story by beating around the bush. This, of course, made you curious. Over the next couple of days you tried to casually press the subject, knowing that eventually Mabel would give in. On the day that she finally did, she started the conversation like this, "Okay Auntie (y/n), you have to promise you won't freak out."
Then, Mabel proceeded to tell you a story that caused a cold pit of unease to settle in your stomach. A story about a being named Bill Cipher. She told you about Bill possessing Dipper and using him to try and get Ford's journal. She told you that they were able to defeat Bill, which was the explanation for the chaos on stage at the end of her puppet show. Then she told you that they had encountered Bill before. Just before Gideon gained control of the Shack, he hired Bill to get the code to Stan's safe out of Stan's mind. The twins, along with Soos, had to enter Stan's mind and protect the code to the safe. That was when they defeated Bill for the first time, and after that they swore never to tell you or Stan about Bill because they knew that you would freak out if you heard that they had to fight an all-powerful demonic entity.
"So that's why you can't tell Dipper that I told you, okay?" Mabel finished. You stared at Mabel for a second, your jaw hanging open slightly in shock. Then you snapped out of it and nodded to her. "Thanks Auntie (y/n), you're the best!" Mabel exclaimed before skipping out of the room, clearly glad to have this weight off of her shoulders. As soon as her back was turned, you dropped down into a chair behind you. Bill Cipher. You hadn't heard that name in thirty years. Bill, who gave Ford the instructions to build the portal so that he could bring his nightmare realm into your reality. Bill, who broke Ford's trust so completely that, in the days leading up to the incident with the portal, he became like a stranger to you. Bill, who indirectly caused the single greatest tragedy of your life.
Now you were finding out that Bill was back, and that he had crossed paths with the twins not once, but twice. He had entered Stan's mind months ago and the twins had kept it a secret from the both of you. He had even possessed Dipper, and he came close to getting one of Ford's journals. You felt a chill run down your spine as you thought about what Bill could do with that journal. Mabel told you that she was sure that he wouldn't come back again now that they had defeated him twice. But you knew better. The kids only knew Bill as an inconveniencing trickster who could be easily bested by kittens and tickles. You, on the other hand, knew the darker side of Bill. The side of Bill that would stop at nothing to take over the world with the help of the equally powerful chaos entities that he calls friends.
Your fear slowly started to turn to frustration. Bill had stayed away for thirty years, why did he have to come back now? On top of everything else, you now had to keep an eye out for Bill while you waited for the portal to activate. It felt as if the universe was throwing things your way to make it more difficult to keep up the work with the portal. First the kids, then the government, then the zombies, and now Bill. As if those outside forces weren't slowing you down enough, as far as you knew Stan hadn't even gotten any more fuel yet, and you knew that you had to be running low. You started to wonder if you and Stan would ever get that portal open. Then, something happened.
One night, just after everyone else had gone to bed, you heard a sound emanating from the basement. You took the elevator down to the portal room to investigate, and noticed that the screen above the control panel was motionless instead of flashing, as it had been for the last few weeks. When you read the words on the screen, your body froze involuntarily and you felt your breath hitch in your chest. The bright green letters in front of you read 'Scan Completed', and the small labelled sections each had one symbol in them, presumably showing some kind of coordinates. Before your brain could catch up with your body, you were up the stairs and waking up Stan.
Stan followed you down to the basement, where you excitedly pointed out the change in the screen. Stan blinked away the bleariness of sleep from his eyes and stared up at the screen. He glanced down at the blueprints, going over them silently for a moment. He glanced back at the fuel gauge, which was pointing towards the low side, and the empty steel drum beside it. Then Stan nodded to himself and concluded, "Well, it looks like I oughta get that fuel."
Stan stayed up late that night, sketching out his plans long after you had gone back to bed. When you woke up the next morning, Stan was asleep at his desk, his head resting on the stack of papers spread out across the desktop and his pen still gripped in his hand. You couldn't stop yourself from smiling fondly at the sight of him. His face looked perfectly content as he slept, and his mouth was open just slightly to allow air to travel through. You stood and watched the rhythmic rising and falling of his shoulders for a moment, then turned and left the room, closing the door quietly behind you. You let him sleep in later than usual, taking it upon yourself to greet customers that showed up at the Shack.
Stan was grateful for the extra rest, because he was up late again that next night. You and Stan spent an hour or so in the evening restocking the gift shop until you were sure that the twins were asleep. Stan told you to follow suit, but you argued against it, telling Stan that you could help him. "(y/n), you can't help with this. If something goes south, I could get in a lot of trouble for what I'm about to do. You can't be any part of that. I won't allow it." Stan said sternly. You opened your mouth to tell him that you were going to help him whether he liked it or not, but then stopped short as you saw the look in his eyes. Behind his usual scowl was a look of genuine concern, and you knew that he really was only telling you off to try and protect you. That look sent all of the fire out of you. You sighed, wishing him luck and giving him a quick kiss before heading to your bedroom.
When you got there, you laid down on your bed and stared up at the dark ceiling. You tried to sleep, but you were unable to keep your eyes closed for very long. The time seemed to drag on slowly as you waited, drumming your fingers against the bed. Finally, after what seemed like hours, Stan poked his head into the room and asked if you were asleep. You immediately slipped out of bed and followed Stan down to the basement. In the basement, Stan had multiple steel drums stacked against a wall. He took one of those drums and, after putting on Ford's old rubber gloves, poured its contents into the machine, causing the arrow on the fuel gauge to move steadily closer to 'full'. He repeated this with the rest of the drums, and when they had all been emptied into the machine the fuel gauge indicated that it was full.
Stan moved over to the control panel and pushed a lever, muttering "Come on, come on," under his breath as the fuel filled the two glass boilers on the wall to your right. "Should be just enough to finish the job." Stan said once the boilers were full, and you nodded in agreement. "Phew. Can't be too careful with this stuff." Stan muttered, lifting his fez off of his head and wiping his forehead with the back of his gloved hand. Some of the fuel from the glove spread onto his forehead as he did so, and you almost mentioned it to him, but the stain quickly dissipated.
The red lights on top of the boilers started to flash, and the screen once again blinked to life. This time the words read 'Event Initialized'. That message was replaced with red numbers that started to count down from eighteen hours. Stan flipped open one of Ford's journals and read aloud, "Warning, blah blah blah, extreme usage could result in minor gravity anomalies." You and Stan glanced at each other momentarily, then Stan flipped the journal shut. "Can it Poindexter! We've come this far, we're not givin' up now!" Stan said, staring up at the portal.
A black mark started to swirl in the center of the machine, a sign you recognized to mean that the portal was beginning to open. "Yes." You whispered, staring in amazement at the portal. "This is it." Stan said excitedly. You noticed his fez lift slightly off of his head, most likely due to those gravity anomalies Ford mentioned in his journal. As Stan's fez dropped back down, the black mark of the portal vanished. "It's gonna be a bumpy ride, but it'll all be worth it." Stan said as he synchronized his watch with the countdown on the screen.
Stan turned to you, grinning from ear to ear. "Just eighteen more hours. Finally, everything changes." Stan said. His words struck you in a way you hadn't expected them to. You realized that you hadn't thought much about what would happen after you activated the portal. You would have Ford back, but what would that bring? It had been thirty years since you had seen him last, who knew how much he had changed since then. Even if he hadn't changed, everything else had. The world had changed so much since 1982, with the advancement of technology and medicine that had seemed to change around you without waiting for you to catch up. Gravity Falls was almost a different town; with old stores replaced by new ones, people having moved in and out, and new buildings added inside the town. Everything that had been Ford's had changed too. His house was now a kitschy tourist attraction, his research either hidden away or thrown out years ago, and his girlfriend was married to his twin brother who had taken his name.
Oh right, his name. You frowned to yourself as you thought about that one. Ford had been trapped in the portal for thirty years, but as far as the world knew he still lived in Gravity Falls. Stan couldn't just go back to being Stanley, because everyone thought that Stanley had died in a car accident during the eighties. You shook the thoughts out of your head for the time being. Right now you should be focused on getting Ford back, no matter what the consequences might be. You could figure all of the rest of that out later. So you directed your attention back to Stan and returned his smile.
Later that morning, after the sun had risen, you and Stan ran into the twins in the upstairs hallway. They were standing in front of an open door, talking excitedly amongst themselves. You caught the tail end of their conversation, which seemingly had to do with a rooftop fireworks party, and glanced at Stan with a quirked brow. Stan stepped over to the twins and stood behind them, his hands on his hips. "Not so fast, kids! There is no way on earth you're setting off those dangerous, illegal fireworks..." Stan started, looking stern for a moment before smiling and wrapping an arm over both of the twins' shoulders, finishing his sentence with, "Without me."
Of course, the twins had found Stan's illegal fireworks stash. Stan had bought them for cheap out of the back of a tourist's truck years ago. He had originally wanted to throw a party and set them all off at once, but you had been able to talk him out of it by convincing him that he could be arrested for setting them off without a permit. After that, you hid them away in a closet so Stan wouldn't be tempted to use them again. Clearly you didn't hide them well enough, because Mabel seemed to have found them without even trying.
"Stan." You said, glancing at the fireworks and then sending Stan a look of disapproval. "Ah, come on. I think we deserve a little harmless fun, even if it's of questionable legal status." Stan responded. The three of them looked up at you pleadingly with hopeful smiles on their faces. "Pleaaaase?" Mabel asked, batting her eyes as pleasantly as she could. You sighed, finally giving in. "Okay, okay. But if the sheriff shows up don't say I didn't warn you." You said, unable to keep a smile from tugging at your lips as Stan and the twins erupted into cheers. They took the boxes of fireworks to the roof, chanting "Fireworks! Fireworks! Fireworks!" as they went. You followed them, laughing softly to yourself.
The four of you spent the next couple of hours on the roof lighting fireworks. As you predicted, the sheriff showed up. Blubbs asked Stan if he had a permit for the fireworks, to which Stan asked if Blubbs had a permit for being "totally lame." Blubbs, who would probably rather be at home on a nice day like today, laughed good-naturedly at Stan's comeback and told you to carry on as he left. Stan laughed, then glanced around the yard, which was covered in small patches of flame and firework debris. "But seriously though, we should probably clean this mess up." Stan said. "With water balloons?" Mabel suggested, her eyes lighting up at the idea. "I don't see why not." Stan responded with a shrug.
So you and Stan sat on the couch outside and watched as Mabel and Dipper ran around the yard, tossing water balloons at each other. You leaned into Stan's side and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, kissing you on the top of your head. You felt truly content, especially now that it seemed most of your worries were over. You noticed Stan glance at his watch, which showed that there were still many more hours before the portal would open. "Ah. This is what Saturdays are for. Doing dumb things forever." Stan said, taking a sip of his Pitt Cola. "DUMB THINGS FOREVER!" The twins echoed, jumping directly onto their pile of water balloons, which popped and sent water shooting in every direction.
You and Stan moved your legs to avoid having them splashed with water; Stan exclaiming, "Woah there!" as the water hit the floor of the porch where your feet had just been. Mabel raised her popsicle in the air and toasted, "To Grunkle Stan and Auntie (y/n)! Not just a great uncle and aunt..." Which Dipper readily finished with, "The greatest uncle and aunt!" before the two of them tossed more water balloons at you and Stan. The two of you laughed, trying to dodge the water balloons that came your way. "Alright, alright. I tell you it's unnatural for siblings to get along as well as you do." Stan said, and you could tell from the look in his eyes that he was thinking of him and Ford as he said it. "Haha, don't worry! We've still got plenty of summer left to drive each other crazy!" Mabel exclaimed, tackling Dipper, who retaliated by pushing her off and dropping a water balloon on her face.
"Yeah, plenty of summer left." Stan said, chuckling nervously to himself and rubbing the back of his neck. "Kids, there's something I, uh, something I should tell you. It's um, well, it's complicated. I..." Stan stammered, scratching his chin and looking back at you as if asking if he should tell them about the portal. You glanced at the twins' confused faces, then looked back at Stan expectantly, waiting to see what he was going to decide. You could see his confidence waver momentarily, then he lost his nerve and finished with "I'm gonna go refresh my soda."
You sighed as you watched Stan walk around the corner of the Shack. You had been hiding the secret of the portal from the twins all summer, but it looked like you were going to have to tell them about it sooner rather than later. Stan had been struggling with trying to find a way to explain it to them. He knew that no matter what he said, the twins would probably be angry with him for keeping such a big part of his life from them. Now that the portal was finally opening, he was running out of time to come up with his explanation. All you could hope for was that the kids would at least understand why you and Stan had been lying to them these last few months. Stan would never admit it, but it would break his heart if Dipper and Mabel were mad at him over this.
As you finished your thought, you heard the roar of low-flying aircraft and looked up to see helicopters flying above the Shack. A group of people in helmets and vests surrounded you and the twins, while others busted open doors and windows to get into the Shack. Dipper and Mabel scooted closer to you, staring up at you with wide eyes. Before you could say anything to them, you heard Stan shout, "Hey, hands off, you stooge!" from the driveway. As you looked in the direction of his voice, you saw one of the agents leading Stan away from the Shack. Stan's hands were behind his back, his wrists shackled together with silver handcuffs that glinted brightly in the sunlight.
Towards you stepped two men that you had hoped you would never see again. Government agents Powers and Trigger. You were surprised to see them alive, as Dipper had told you the story of how he had accidentally gotten them eaten by zombies. As you recalled that incident, Dipper voiced your thoughts aloud. "The government guys? I thought you got eaten by zombies!" He exclaimed. "We survived. Barely." Agent Trigger explained, shuddering at the memory. "I used Trigger as a human shield. He cried like a baby." Agent Powers said, to which his partner responded, "What? Hey! Not in front of the special-ops guys!"
Powers pulled out a tablet and held it up, showing the video playing on the screen. "This is footage of a government waste facility. At o'four hundred hours last night someone robbed three hundred gallons of dangerous waste." Powers said, looking pointedly at Stan. "What? You think that's me?" Stan asked incredulously, but you could see the sweat breaking out on his forehead. "Don't play dumb with us, Pines." Powers snapped. "But-but I actually am dumb! Last night I was stocking the gift shop. I swear!" Stan responded as an agent led him to one of the government vehicles and forced him into the back seat.
Agent Powers then turned his attention to you. "Mrs. Pines, we'd appreciate it if you would come with us." Powers said in a tone that indicated that this wasn't just a suggestion. "What about the kids?" You asked, your hands going to Dipper and Mabel's shoulders protectively. "We'll take care of the children." Powers answered simply, holding his hand out in a gesture that was meant to direct you toward the vehicle Stan was in. You looked down at Dipper and Mabel, who were yet again staring up at you. You sighed and squeezed their shoulders comfortingly before following one of the agents to the car. The agent opened the door to the back seat for you and shut it behind you as soon as you climbed in.
You and Stan looked out the window and watched as Powers said something to the twins before Trigger led them to another car and escorted them into its back seat. "Kids, you gotta believe me! For once I'm actually innocent!" Stan shouted through the open window to the twins, who stared helplessly back at him. As the car pulled out of the Mystery Shack's driveway, you and Stan sat back in your seats. You could feel Stan's eyes on you as you stared at the back of the seat in front of you, breathing deeply to calm your nerves. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Stan open his mouth to say something, then close it again as he decided against it. It was quiet for a minute, aside from the low rumbling of the car's engine. Finally, you decided that the agent driving the car wasn't paying any attention to you, and you couldn't keep yourself from saying something any longer.
"Government facility?" You asked simply, your voice almost a whisper. Stan glanced at you and sighed irritably as he recognized the expression on your face. "(y/n), don't start with this." Stan grumbled, but you ignored him. "You knew that those agents were watching you and you broke into a government facility?" You continued, forcing your voice to stay low enough that the driver couldn't hear. "Well where else was I supposed to get toxic waste? The drug store?" Stan countered. "Maybe, if there wasn't anywhere else to get it, you shouldn't have gotten it at all." You snapped, leaning closer to Stan over the middle seat of the car. "I'm not arguing with you over this. Not today." Stan said through gritted teeth, turning away from you to look out the window as the trees rolled by.
You sat back and crossed your arms over your chest, hearing your heart pounding in your ears. You were frustrated with Stan for being more careless than usual, but mostly you were just scared. You stared at the scenery as you passed it by, trying not to think about the consequences of Stan's actions. He could be put in prison for a theft of this magnitude. You didn't know what you would do if Stan was in jail and you were left to finish opening the portal alone. The machine was dangerous; perhaps not the doomsday device that Agent Powers thought it was, but powerful and unstable nonetheless. For a brief moment you wondered whether it would have been better not to fix the portal, to just let it rust down in the basement until the end of time so it couldn't cause any more trouble.
"Whatever it takes." Stan said quietly, finally breaking the silence and pulling you out of your thoughts. "What?" You questioned, turning your attention over to Stan. He was still looking out of the window, seeming to be lost in thoughts of his own. "Whatever it takes," Stan repeated, turning to face you before continuing, "That's what we agreed on. When we started rebuilding the portal, we promised that we would fix it no matter what it took. That's why I did what I did. Because if I hadn't, there would have been no other way to open the portal, and we would have lost our last chance at getting him back."
Stan's sincerity struck a chord in your heart, and your anger at his actions fizzled away. You could see a look of relief cross Stan's face as he saw your expression soften. "You're right. I'm sorry for snapping at you, I'm just... I'm scared." You admitted, your voice no higher than a whisper. Stan scooted closer to you and you instinctively leaned your head on his shoulder. You felt Stan rest his cheek against the top of your head, and a smile came to your lips despite your worries. "Everything's gonna be okay (y/n), I promise. Trust me, I'll come up with a plan to get away from these agents, and then there won't be anything standing in our way. Just a few more hours and all of this will have been worth it." Stan said comfortingly, and you nodded softly in agreement.
The driver stopped the car in front of the Gravity Falls police station. After the agent got out, he directed you and Stan out of the car and into the station. Stan was lead around the station to have his mugshot and fingerprints taken, then he was locked into an interrogation room. Agent Powers instructed you to sit on a bench in the hallway, then not-so-subtly asked one of the agents to keep an eye on you. You sat on the bench, twiddling your thumbs nervously as you watched Powers enter the interrogation room that Stan was in with a handful of other agents.
They were only in there for a few minutes before they left, talking amongst themselves about Stan asking for a phone call. You wondered who he was calling, and why. Agent Powers directed his attention to you, and walked towards you down the hallway. "Mrs. Pines, I'd like to ask you a few questions about your husband." Powers said once he was standing next to you. You glanced at the door to the interrogation room that Stan was in, then returned your gaze to Powers. "Alright." You responded, standing and following Powers into another holding room.
You sat down in one of the chairs at the table and watched as Powers closed the door behind the two of you before taking a seat across from you. "Before we begin, I want you to know that I understand if your inclination is to protect your husband, even if that means lying for him. But I want you to know that Stan Pines is a very dangerous individual, and he may have been keeping some secrets about himself from you. So I would appreciate it if you would answer these questions honestly." Powers said. You had to fight hard to keep your eyes from rolling. You were sure Powers had used that same spiel before questioning the wives of other criminals, and you had no doubt that some of them had actually fallen for it. But you weren't just some ignorant woman who hadn't noticed the crimes that her husband had committed. You were well aware of everything Stan had done, and you wouldn't be tricked into giving up his secrets to this smug, egotistical agent.
So you played the "innocent wife" role, answering all of Powers' questions with "I don't know." and "I had no idea." You even threw in a little monologue about how you had never seen this coming, Stan seemed like such a good person, how could he do this to you, blah blah blah. You even managed to make yourself tear up, at which point Agent Powers offered you a handkerchief and thanked you for your candor. He led you back out of the room and asked you to wait on the bench, this time neglecting to appoint you a guard. Powers then rounded up his agents and left the station, leaving you by yourself in the hallway. You laughed under your breath once you were alone, thanking Agent Powers for being so gullible. You were tempted to enter the interrogation room, but you were pretty sure you had seen Powers lock the door before he left so there was no way for you to get in there. Instead, you leaned against the back of the bench and closed your eyes.
You were there for what felt like hours. The hallway you were in was empty, so every now and then you would stand and pace the floor to pass the time. You watched outside the windows as the sun slowly slipped behind the horizon, causing the sky to turn vibrant shades of red and orange. Finally, just as you sat back down on the bench, Agent Powers returned. He walked straight past you, followed by the same handful of agents as before. You watched as he unlocked the door to the interrogation room and entered it along with the other agents. You couldn't hear what they were saying through the door, but you had a feeling that Powers was getting impatient with Stan's evasiveness.
Suddenly, you felt the bench beneath you shift slightly. You looked down at the bench in confusion and noticed that the legs of the bench were starting to hover just off of the ground. You realized that it must be another gravity anomaly caused by the portal, and judging by how high the bench was beginning to get, the portal was close to opening. You grabbed onto the arm of the bench as you felt yourself start to float off of it. You were distracted from your situation by a commotion coming from the interrogation room. You heard Powers shout something, then watched as Stan leaped out of the room and closed the door behind him. "No! You won't get away with this!" You heard Powers shout as Stan locked the door behind him.
You heard Stan's watch beep a couple of times, and then you and the bench were back on the ground. Stan turned around and saw you sitting in the hallway beside him. "Come on, there's not much time left!" Stan exclaimed, running over to you and grabbing your hand to pull you along with him. As soon as you and Stan were out of the police station, you hit the ground running. Stan spotted a taxi and skidded to a stop next to it, asking the driver if he knew where the Mystery Shack was. You were about to tell Stan that it would be too dangerous to take a taxi back to the Shack, but Stan instead told the driver to get as far away from the Shack as possible.
"Good thinking." You said as Stan pulled you behind a wrecked car to hide from the agents. Stan flashed you a grin and the two of you waited while Powers finally got outside of the station and ordered his men to follow the taxi, which was speeding down the road in the opposite direction of where you were going. Once all of the agents had gotten in their cars and sped after the taxi, you and Stan took off running through town, your feet pounding on the pavement as you went. Stan still had a firm grip on your hand, and you were thankful for it as it kept you balanced when you felt like you might stumble.
The buildings and roads of the town faded into the distance behind you and were replaced by tall trees and a dirt path. Your lungs burned with the effort as you tried to breathe, and your feet ached from running such a long distance with no breaks. But the countdown on Stan's watch was dwindling away, and you had to get back to the Shack before the clock hit zero. After thirty years of waiting, you weren't going to miss this. No matter how hard you had to run. A stray branch that was reaching out over the dirt road snagged on Stan's suit and tore a hole in the sleeve. Stan ignored it and kept running, glancing at you to make sure you were keeping up.
You could see the Shack through the trees now, and it brought a breath of fresh energy to your body. Your legs started to move even faster, and you and Stan quickly closed the distance between you and the Shack. Your feet hit the porch so hard you thought you might break it, but you kept going. Stan held open the door and the two of you entered the gift shop, sweating and panting for breath. You looked up at the vending machine and felt a cold chill run down your spine. The vending machine was standing open, the stairway beneath exposed to your view. You and Stan shared a look of alarm, then you rushed through the entrance and down the stairs to the elevator.
Stan took a quick look at his watch again as you stood in the elevator, waiting impatiently to reach the basement. You glanced at his watch and felt your heart skip a beat as you saw that you had just over a minute left. After all these years you were finally so close to opening the portal again, to getting Ford back. But things were never as easy as you hoped they would be, and you were sure that the open vending machine was a bad sign. You felt a familiar sense of dread wash over you, but you did your best to push it away. As you reached the basement, the elevator doors opened to reveal Dipper, Mabel, and Soos all standing in the portal room around the emergency shut-off button.
The world seemed to freeze around you as you watched Dipper raise his hand above the button. Luckily, Stan was able to think on his feet, and he ran to the doorway to the portal room. "DON'T TOUCH THAT BUTTON!" Stan yelled, reaching a hand out towards Dipper. Stan was holding onto the doorframe to keep himself on his feet, and he was panting heavily after running all the way here. Everyone turned to face him, but Dipper's hand stayed poised over the shut-off button. "Dipper, just back away." Stan said, but Dipper stood his ground, his hand suspended in the air. "Please don't press that shutdown button. You gotta trust me." Stan pleaded, taking a few steps toward Dipper.
"And I should trust you why? After you stole radioactive waste? After you lied to us all summer?! I don't even know who you are!" Dipper argued, his face contorted in fury. "Look, I know this all seems nuts, but I need that machine to stay on! If you'd just let me explain-" Stan said, but he was cut off by his watch beeping urgently. At this point, you had made it from the elevator to the doorway, and you looked down as you felt the ground start to rumble beneath your feet. "Uh-oh, oh no, brace yourselves!" Stan exclaimed as the portal started to spin faster, causing the gravity to fluctuate. You tried to hold onto the doorframe as you were pulled into the air, but it slipped out of your grasp and you floated up to the ceiling of the portal room.
You heard a robotic voice from the control panel say, "T-minus thirty five seconds." The portal was almost completely open now, and it looked just the way you remembered it. A gaping black maw filled with unrecognizable stars from some unknown universe. "Dipper!" You heard Mabel cry, and noticed that she was caught on a wire next to the portal. "Mabel! Hurry! Shut it down!" Dipper called to her from somewhere to your right. Mabel started to pull herself down using the wire, trying to reach the button. "Mabel, stop!" You heard yourself shout, and caught the sound of Stan echoing the same words. Stan had pushed off of the ceiling in an attempt to reach Mabel, but Soos intercepted him before he could get close to her. "Soos, what're you doing?! I gave you an order!" Stan yelled, trying to push Soos off of him but ultimately failing.
"Sorry Mr. Pines, if that is your real name, but I have a new mission now! Protecting these kids!" Soos exclaimed, keeping a tight grip on Stan. "Soos, you idiot, let me go!" Stan argued, still struggling in his grasp. Dipper pushed off of the wall and collided with Stan and Soos, sending the three of them flying through the air a few feet. "Go! Mabel, press the red button! Shut it down!" Dipper shouted, his hand pressed against Stan's face. "No, you can't! You gotta trust me!" Stan pleaded with Mabel, pushing Dipper away from him. "Grunkle Stan, I don't even know if you're my grunkle! I wanna believe you, but-" Mabel started, unable to finish her sentence as her throat was choked with a sob.
As you looked at Mabel, you realized that she had started to cry. Her tears were lifted off of her cheeks and they floated up above her, twinkling like stars in the lights on the machine. Seeing the hurt and confusion on her face caused tears to well up in your eyes as well, and you found yourself unable to wipe them away. "Then listen to me. Remember this morning when I said I wanted to tell you guys something?" Stan asked. Before Mabel could respond, the voice at the control panel spoke once again, this time saying "T-minus twenty seconds." A bright flash of light came from the portal, and a wave of energy pushed you back against the wall, nearly knocking the breath out of your lungs.
"I wanted to say that you're gonna hear some bad things about me, and some of them are true, but trust me. Everything I've worked for, everything I care about, it's all for this family!" Stan finished, now pressed against the wall with Dipper and Soos beside him. "Mabel, what if he's lying? This thing could destroy the universe! Listen to your head!" Dipper called out to Mabel. "Look into my eyes Mabel. You really think I'm a bad guy?" Stan asked, his voice soft, but still loud enough for Mabel to hear. "He's lying! Shut it down NOW!" Dipper yelled. "Mabel, please!" Stan pleaded.
You could faintly hear the control panel voice start to count down from ten. You felt helpless as you watched Mabel clinging to the pole that held the shutdown button, her eyes darting between Stan and Dipper. Her hair swayed lightly as it floated above her head, curling and twisting due to the energy from the portal. The portal loomed behind her, standing open like the jaws of a monster just waiting to bite down on anyone who got too close. Mabel's tears floated into the portal and joined the flecks of starlight that were sprinkled across the black canvas of the sky. You felt as if your heart had stilled in your chest as you waited with bated breath during the few, agonizingly long seconds that it took Mabel to make her decision. Time itself seemed trapped in suspension as Mabel's hand hovered over the shutdown button, unaware of the true power that it held. If Mabel pressed that button, it would undo the thirty years of work that you and Stan had done on the portal. It would erase the only chance you had of seeing Ford again.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Mabel spoke. "Grunkle Stan..." Mabel started, squeezing her eyes shut. "I trust you." She finished, lifting her hand away from the button and letting go of the stand, slowly drifting up and away from it. You felt relief crash over you like a wave, and you closed your eyes against the brightening of the portal. "Mabel are you crazy?! We're all gonna-" You heard Dipper start to yell, but he was cut off by the computer saying, "One."
There was a blinding flash of white light, the same as the night that Ford was sucked into the portal. A scream was ripped from your throat involuntarily, but you could barely hear it over the roaring sound of the portal. You were almost positive that you blacked out for a second, but you came to the second you hit the ground. You opened your eyes, squinting as you tried to make out what was happening around you. The machine had been torn to pieces by the force of the portal, and it now lay in large chunks around the basement. The wires and cables that were attached to the machine were sending sparks into the air that fizzled out before they could reach the ground. The largest piece of the machine, the piece that had the portal in the center, was still upright but leaning at a slight angle. The portal was now glowing a dim blue, and little bolts of electricity were jumping out from its center and grazing the wreckage around it.
A faint dark spot appeared in the center of the portal, and you pushed yourself up onto your elbows to get a better look. As you watched it, the spot slowly got larger until you could make out the faint outline of a human figure. Even though you couldn't see the figure's face, somewhere deep down inside of you, you knew that it was him. You felt your heart twist in your chest as if it had been wrung out like a wet rag. It had been thirty years. Thirty years of pain, and heartache, and longing. Now, finally, those years were coming to a close.
Dipper had also spotted the figure, who had now stepped out of the portal and reached down to grab one of the journals that was laying amongst the debris. "What...? Who is that?" Dipper asked, his eyes wide as he watched the cloaked figure stop in front of the five of you. "The author of the journals..." Stan answered, his gaze directed unwaveringly at the figure and his voice laced with amazement. You watched as the figure slowly pulled off his goggles, revealing a face that you almost thought you would never see again. Just the sight of him caused your throat to choke with emotion. He looked so much older, so much more serious, but it was still that same familiar face you knew from decades ago. As Ford's gaze turned and met yours for the first time in thirty years, you heard Stan finish his introduction.
"...My brother."
Chapter 2: The Next Step
Summary:
Ford is back, but what does this mean for your marriage to his brother?
Notes:
I've been working on this chapter on and off for the better part of three years. I decided today to just post what I have instead of trying to perfect it. Enjoy what I consider my half-finished Chapter 2.
Chapter Text
"...My brother."
Stan's words hung in the air, suspended like fish in a frozen pond. Your gaze stayed locked with Ford's, and you could see a spark of recognition flash in his eyes. You almost opened your mouth to say something, anything, but the words got caught in your throat.
So instead, you just stared. You took in every detail of Ford's face, every slight change from the way he used to look. There were soft wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, and hard lines in between his brows, presumably from frowning often. The warm brown of his hair was gone, completely replaced by varying shades of grey. He used to always try to stay clean-cut, but now his cheeks were flecked with stubble and his hair was slightly shaggy. But the one thing about him that hadn't changed was his eyes. As you stared into them, you felt yourself getting lost in memories from long ago.
Movement from your right snapped both you and Ford out of your thoughts and you turned your attention to Stan, who was standing from the ground and beginning to speak. "Finally! After all these long years of waiting, you're actually here! Brother!" Stan exclaimed, holding his arms out. You saw a sudden burst of fire ignite in Ford's eyes, and he cleared the gap between him and Stan in a few long strides. Ford moved like clockwork, his arm pulling back and then releasing like an arrow from a bow, his fist hitting Stan squarely in the face.
Stan stumbled back, his hand going up to touch his cheek, which bore a red mark where Ford's fist had connected with it. "Ow! What the heck was that for?!" Stan yelled, sounding more confused than angry. "This was an insanely risky move, restarting the portal! Didn't you read my warnings?" Ford answered, gesturing wildly with his hands in a way that you had become familiar with during your time together. "Warnings schmarnings. How's about maybe a thanks for saving you from what appears to be, I don't know, some kind of sci-fi sideburn dimension?" Stan retorted, frowning as he glanced at Ford's sideburns, which had gotten much longer over the years.
"Thank you? You really think I'm gonna thank you after what you did thirty years ago?" Ford asked, his voice sounding incredulous at first, then rising to a yell as his question progressed. "What I did? Why you ungrateful..." Stan grumbled, trailing off as he attempted to throw a punch at Ford. Ford dodged the punch effortlessly, causing Stan to stumble forward a few steps. But Stan clearly wasn't giving up after one missed punch, so he spun on his heel and lunged forward to grab Ford. Ford sidestepped this move as well, moving behind Stan to grab him by the shoulders, then pulling his arms behind his back and pinning them there with a firm grip on his wrists.
"Don't expect me to go easy on you just because you're family." Stan grunted, struggling to escape Ford's hold. Ford, seeming unfazed, wrestled Stan to the ground with ease. For a moment, you thought you saw Ford's gaze linger on Stan's hands, but it was too fleeting to make out what he might have been thinking. Before the brothers' fight could progress any farther, Mabel stepped up next to them and drew their attention away from each other. "Hey, hi. Mabel here. Quick question, what the heck is going on here?!" Mabel asked, her voice raised and her eyes wide. At this, Ford stood from where he had been crouched over Stan and adjusted his glasses. "Stan, you didn't tell me there were children down here." Ford started, seeming to remember his manners. "And some sort of large, hairless gopher?" He questioned as he eyed Soos. "Heh heh, I get that a lot." Soos responded amiably.
"They're your family, Poindexter." Stan said as he picked himself up off of the ground. As Stan said "family" you saw Ford's eyes flicker from the twins to Stan, and then to you. His expression was unreadable, but you could imagine what he must be thinking. Then Stan said, "Shermie's grandkids." and Ford's face brightened. "I-I have a niece and nephew?" Ford asked, a smile coming to his face. He stepped forward and knelt in front of Mabel, holding out a hand to her. "Greetings! Do kids still say greetings? I haven't been in this dimension for a really long time." Ford rambled, grinning as Mabel reached out and took his hand.
"Whoa, a six-fingered handshake? It's a full finger friendlier than normal!" Mabel exclaimed. You saw Ford's ears tint pink at the mention of his fingers, a reflex that he had developed many years ago. "Heh heh, I like this kid! She's weird!" Ford laughed. "I-I can't believe it! You're the author of the journals!" Dipper exclaimed, drawing everyone's attention to him. "You've read my journals?" Ford asked, taking the journal he had picked up earlier from his coat pocket. "I haven't just read them, I've lived them!" Dipper answered, starting to pace around the floor in circles. "I've been waiting for so long to meet you, I-I don't know what to say, I have so many questions I-" Dipper rambled, cutting off as he started to hyperventilate. "Oooooh I think I'm gonna throw up." Dipper said, bracing himself against a rock and doubling over. Mabel walked over to him and patted him gently on the back as he dry-heaved and mumbled something about just having to ride it out.
"Listen, there'll be time for introductions later. But first, tell me Stan, are there any security breaches? Does anyone else know about this portal?" Ford asked, tucking his journal away in a pocket once more. "No, just us." Stan answered, crossing his arms over his chest. "Also maybe the entire U.S. government." Stan added after a beat. "The what?!" Ford exclaimed, his eyebrows knitting together in anger as he looked at Stan. Ford turned to look at the screen in the control room that showed security footage from outside of the Shack. On the screen you could see Agent Powers and his men swarming the yard, searching the Shack and the nearby forest for Stan.
Ford sighed in frustration, his hand going up to press against his face. "Okay, it's alright. We've got a while before they find this room. We just need to lay low and think of a plan." Ford said, mostly to himself, as he pulled out his journal again and started to write something down in it. "Well, it looks like we're stuck down here for a while. Who wants to tell us their entire mysterious backstory?" Mabel asked, raising her hands as she did. "Yes, I have some questions about this myself, Stanley." Ford said pointedly, his gaze still fixed on his journal.
At the sound of Stan's full name, you grimaced and sucked in a breath of air through your teeth. You saw your expression mirrored on Stan's face as you looked over at him, and then down at the twins as Dipper began to speak. "Stanley?" He asked, his hands going to his hips as he turned to face Stan. "But, your name is Stanford." Mabel stated, her face a mask of confusion. You saw Ford stiffen for a moment, the hand holding the pen standing still. Then he turned around and glared at Stan. "Wait, you took my name?! What have you been doing all these years, you knucklehead?!" Ford asked, snapping his journal shut.
"Yeah Grunkle Stan, no more lies! You owe us some answers. What's the deal with this portal? Why did you keep this a secret?" Dipper interrogated, turning around to face Stan with his hands on his hips. "And what happened between you and your brother?" Mabel pressed, mirroring Dipper's stance. "I hope all this aligns exactly with my fanfic, Stan. If not, I will be very disappointed." Soos chimed in, moving to back the twins up. Stan glanced around at the four people standing in front of him, then off to the side at you. You stared back pointedly, hoping to convey from your expression that he should just tell them all and get it over with. Stan seemed to get the gist, and he sighed. "Okay, okay okay, I know I have a lot of explaining to do. It all started... a lifetime ago." Stan started, going into his explanation.
You, of course, already knew all of this. You had heard Stan and Ford's life story from both sides many times over the years. But you listened to Stan's tale anyways, keeping an eye on his audience. You thought you saw Ford's gaze dart to you a few times, his eyes scanning you briefly before returning to Stan. You wanted more than anything to go to him, to embrace him, to even just talk to him. But you had no idea what you would say. It had been so long since you had seen him that you weren't sure if he was the same as you remembered him. You weren't even sure if he still liked you, or even quite remembered you.
Stan paused for a moment, and he and Ford stood facing away from each other, avoiding eye contact. "Oh, this story's so sad! I know what you two little broken teacups need, to hug it out! Hug it out! Hug train's coming to the station! Hugapalooza two thousand!" Mabel exclaimed, to which Stan said, "Kid, will ya knock that off? I'm tryin' to tell my life story here." before diving back into his memories. He talked about all of his failed business ventures, and how he had gotten kicked out of nearly every state. "Whoa, so that explains all the fake IDs." Mabel chimed in. "But wait, what about you? Did you end up going to your dream school?" Dipper asked Ford. "Not exactly." Ford answered, frowning slightly. He explained that he had gone to Backupsmore University, where he had to work twice as hard. He talked about being awarded a grant for scientific research, and how that led him to study anomalies in Gravity Falls.
"Meanwhile, your old uncle Stan was doing great." Stan cut in, telling the kids about how he had come up with a new business strategy and he was in great shape living on his own. You quirked a brow at Stan, a look that he ignored. You knew the truth about those months, how he was living in his car, exclusively eating cheap food and trying to win money from lottery tickets. But you didn't interject, and instead listened as Ford jumped back in. He talked about building his house and starting his research. As he began to mention his journals, Dipper practically screamed, "The journals!" which caused everyone to look over at him. "Sorry, sorry. Just got excited there... About the journals... Keep-keep talking." Dipper apologized, clearing his throat in embarrassment.
"I began to keep a journal..." Ford continued, once again being cut off by Dipper's excited screaming. "Just going to ignore that." Ford said, moving past the journals and talking more about the creatures he found in Gravity Falls. He opened his mouth to say something, then glanced between you and Stan and seemed to think better of it. Instead, he skipped ahead to the portal and Fiddleford McGucket, leaving Bill out of his story. Even now, thirty years later, you could see Ford shudder as he talked about Fiddleford's close call with the portal, as if a dark cloud had passed over him and blocked out the warmth of the sun. You could still remember that day as if it were yesterday. In your mind you could hear Fiddleford warning you about the portal as he frantically gathered the few things he had left in the house, then the sharp snap of the front door as Fiddleford practically slammed it shut behind himself for the last time.
The echoes that rang in your ears from the ghosts of your old memories faded away slowly, and you returned your attention to the stories that were being told. At this point, Stan was telling his account of the portal incident, when he showed up at the house on that dreadful night all those years ago. You could tell from the looks on both of their faces that recalling this memory hurt Stan and Ford. A bitter look had warped Ford's features as he listened to Stan's side of the story, but he never once interrupted him. Instead, he listened intently as Stan talked about your efforts to restart the portal.
Once again, you felt Ford's gaze on you, but you couldn't seem to make yourself meet his eyes. You felt a pang of hurt, or possibly even guilt, in your chest as you wondered just how much Stan was going to say about those first few years after Ford was sucked into the portal. You knew Ford would find out eventually, but something in you wished that you could just have a little more time with him before you told him about you and Stan. If you just had another day or two to try and explain it to him, to make him understand what you were going through at that time, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. You didn't want to hurt him by telling him that you were with his brother now, but something deep down inside of you was afraid that he wouldn't be hurt by it at all.
You tried to force the fear down. It should be a good thing that Ford might not be bothered by you moving on. It should be a good thing that he might have moved on himself. You were married, after all, and you had been for decades now. You tried to tell yourself that you shouldn't be secretly hoping that Ford still had feelings for you. You especially tried to tell yourself that you shouldn't still have feelings for him. But your heart was irrational and foolish, as it always had been, and it wouldn't listen to the sense and reason coming from your mind. You glanced between Ford and Stan, feeling the thick darkness of a steadily growing, all-consuming guilt start to claw its way up your throat. You tried your best to shake it off, or at the very least ignore it, and listened to the rest of Stan's story.
Stan gave only a brief summary of the Shack's history, and he didn't mention anything about your relationship during that time. You felt a wave of relief wash over you at that, then silently chastised yourself for it. You shouldn't care that Stan didn't tell Ford about the two of you, and yet you cared anyway. But even if Ford didn't know now, you would still have to tell him later. Luckily, to distract you from your thoughts, Stan finished his story and Dipper chimed in with, "So all this time you were just trying to save your brother. Grunkle Stan, I'm so sorry I didn't believe you."
"That's okay, kid. I probably wouldn't have believed me either." Stan responded. From upstairs, you could hear a shout from one of the agents about hearing voices downstairs. "Oh no, it's too late, the agents are comin' for us!" Stan exclaimed, causing Mabel to cry out, "What do we do?!" You and Stan caught each other's gaze and you sent him a look that wordlessly asked him what his plan was. Stan only looked back at you with an expression of helplessness. "Aw, man. I was so spellbound by your dramatic tale I forgot all about those dudes." Soos said nervously, and after hearing his words, Dipper looked as if a lightbulb had just lit up above his head. "Wait, forget. That's it! I think I know a way we might be able to defeat those agents!" Dipper exclaimed, pulling a memory erasing gun from his backpack and handing it to Ford.
You felt your eyes widen in surprise at the sight of the gun. You wondered where Dipper had gotten it, and how long he had had it with your knowing. The thought concerned you, as you knew that those memory erasing guns were extremely powerful and too dangerous to mess with. You just hoped that the kids hadn't gotten into any trouble with it. As Ford took the gun from Dipper, you could see a spark of emotion light in his eyes. Apparently Fiddleford was still a sore subject, even after three decades. You could understand it though, you knew that Ford felt guilty about what had happened with Fiddleford and the portal, and about not seeking him out afterwards to apologize to him. You couldn't imagine what Ford would feel once he found out what happened to Fiddleford during the years that Ford had spent in other dimensions.
The look in Ford's eyes was gone as quickly as it had come, and he returned to the present without anyone else in the room noticing his temporary lapse of concentration. "Of course! I don't know how you got a hold of one of these but, this is perfect! If I can just amplify the signal to a radio headset frequency..." Ford said, mumbling the last sentence to himself as he plugged a few wires into the gun and glanced through some viewing glasses at the agents outside. "There. Now everyone plug your ears! Get down, now!" Ford ordered, at which everyone stuck their fingers in their ears and crouched down close to the ground. A humming sound came from somewhere above your heads, then the ground shook with the force of a shockwave caused by the release of the gun's energy.
The surveillance cameras showed all the agents above ground hunkered over with their hands on their ears. Ford was the first to leap into action, and he ran up the stairs to the gift shop with everyone else tagging along behind him at a slower pace. As Ford passed through the gift shop, he grabbed a stack of papers off of the counter that you thought might be pictures Mabel had drawn the day before. Dipper and Mabel practically sprinted to the gift shop door, but you held an arm out to stop them before they could follow Ford onto the porch. "Wait until the agents are gone." You said as the twins looked up at you with confused expressions.
Luckily, they didn't have to wait for very long. Ford made up some excuse to tell the agents off, and it made you grateful for his ability to think on his feet. As the agents drove off down the road, you sighed with relief and watched as Dipper and Mabel ran out of the gift shop to join Ford. "Great Uncle Stanford, that was amazing!" Mabel exclaimed with a wide, toothy grin on her face. "Let's not go crazy. It was serviceable." Stan grumbled as the two of you and Soos followed after the twins. "Thank you kids, but please, call me Ford." Ford said, chuckling self-consciously at the praise. "Sure! Thanks, Great Uncle Ford. So, uh, would you mind if I asked you a couple billion questions about Gravity Falls?" Dipper asked, already pulling out a pen and notepad.
"Um, well I-uh..." Ford stammered as Dipper clicked his pen excitedly. "All right kids, it's been a long day and me and my brother have a lot to talk about. Why don't you hit the hay, huh?" Stan suggested. "But, it's the author! I've been waiting so long to ask questions about-" Dipper started to protest, but Stan grabbed the back of the kids' heads and pushed them towards the door. "I said, hit the hay!" Stan demanded, at which the twins reluctantly entered the Shack. Ford watched them go, his gaze wandering around the inside of the gift shop and then moving up to the sign on the roof of the Shack. He frowned slightly, then wordlessly moved to go back inside.
"Hey Poindexter, where d'ya think you're going?" Stan asked as Ford stepped past him to the door. "I just want to get settled in, change into some clean clothes. We'll talk later." Ford responded flatly, walking through the gift shop and disappearing through the curtains that hid the living room. You and Stan shared a look, then you followed after Ford through the house. By the time you caught up with him, he was already in his old bedroom, pulling off the black turtleneck sweater that he had on.
You stopped just outside the doorway, silently watching as Ford pulled the sweater over his head and tossed it onto the bed. Your eyes followed the curve of Ford's shoulders and traced down the length of his spine. The smooth, pale skin of Ford's back was interrupted by a littering of small scars in various places. As your eyes flicked from scar to scar, Ford seemed to sense your presence and turned around to face you. You bit back a gasp as you saw that his chest and arms also bore varying scars, most of them larger and more gruesome than the ones on his back.
"Ford," You breathed, tearing your eyes away from the old wounds and the thin outlines of a couple of fading tattoos to meet Ford's gaze. Ford was watching you intently, his eyes roaming up and down your figure, seemingly taking in the sight of you. You couldn't make yourself move from where you stood in the doorway, and whatever words you had meant to say died on your tongue before they passed through your lips. For a moment, the two of you just stared at each other in silence. Then, Ford finally spoke up, and the sudden sound of his voice caused you to startle slightly.
"Let me see your hand." Ford said, his expression blank and unreadable. "My hand?" You asked, arching a brow in confusion. Ford simply nodded in response and crossed his arms over his bare chest. You held up your right hand, still feeling confused and looking at Ford as if you thought he might have a few screws loose. Ford sighed impatiently and shook his head at you. "Your other hand." He corrected, giving you a stern look that said you should know better. You suddenly realized what he was up to, and you couldn't stop the grimace from coming to your face. Ford saw your change in expression and knew that his suspicions were correct, but he still waited for you to do as he asked before saying anything.
You looked away from his stern face and slowly raised your left hand up to where he could see it; to where he could see the ring. Ford clenched his jaw and turned away from you, busying himself with folding the sweater he had been wearing. "Ford..." You said softly, your hand dropping back to your side as your voice trailed off. You could see the muscles in Ford's shoulders tense, and he placed the folded sweater back onto the bed. "Stanley? Really?" Ford asked through gritted teeth, still facing the back of the room as if he refused to turn to you.
"Ford, I can explain." You responded, wondering to yourself if you really could explain it. "Explain?" Ford repeated as he whipped around to face you. "Sure, go ahead, explain to me why you married my brother!" He exclaimed, his voice harsh as he struggled to keep from shouting. You opened your mouth to defend yourself, but Ford wasn't done giving you a piece of his mind. "Thirty years, (y/n). I spent thirty years wishing I could find my way back here. Thirty years hoping that I would see you again. And once I finally get back, I have to find out that you left me for my brother! I was in love with you, (y/n)! I still am! I thought that you felt the same way, that you might still be here waiting for me. But I guess that was too much to hope for. You gave up on me, and you married Stan instead. And I'm just supposed to accept that? I'm just supposed to accept the fact that the one person I ever truly loved doesn't love me?"
By the time Ford had finished speaking, all of the fire had gone out of him. His anger was washed away by a tidal wave of hurt that seemed to exhaust him of whatever energy he had. His words stung like a swift slap to the face, and you once again felt that all too familiar sensation of guilt, this time like thorny vines encasing your tender heart and squeezing tightly. You opened your mouth to speak, closed it momentarily, and then opened it again. "I do love you, Ford." You said, your voice so soft that even you could barely hear it. Your words seemed to surprise Ford, but he didn't say anything in response, so you forged ahead.
"I've never stopped loving you. There hasn't been a single day in these last thirty years that has gone by without me thinking of you. And I never gave up on you. I was in the basement every night trying to fix that portal. I searched for your third journal for years. I missed you every day. And yes, maybe I got lonely. Maybe I thought that it wouldn't hurt so badly if I could try to replace you. You weren't there, but Stan was. And I know what you must think of us, what you must think of me for what I did, but it made the pain of losing you easier to live with. Maybe I shouldn't have fallen in love with him. Maybe I should have waited for you even though it hurt. But I didn't, and it's too late to change that. I still love you Ford, but... Everything is different now."
The last few words that came from your lips sounded solemn, and they hung in the air heavily, threatening to crash down onto your heads. You reached your hands up to wipe away the tears that had spilled over your lashes and onto your cheeks. The silence between the two of you was thick and deafeningly loud. You were waiting for Ford to say something, anything, but he just stared at you, his lips parted just slightly and his eyes swirling with emotion. You were frozen, rooted to where you stood in the doorway, but you felt compelled to step forward towards him.
Before you could convince your body to move, your trance was broken by the sound of Stan calling for you from down the hall. You glanced behind yourself, then back at Ford. You opened your mouth to say something, then thought better of it and instead turned around and left the bedroom without another word.
The next few days were tense. Ford hadn't spoken to you at all since that night, and you got the feeling he was intentionally avoiding you. As if it wasn't bad enough that your relationship with Ford was strained, Stan was also having trouble adjusting to living with his brother. Ford spent most of his time down in the basement, but on the rare occasion that he was upstairs, Ford and Stan always managed to find something to start an argument over. Dipper and Mabel seemed to be in awe of Ford, but you could tell it upset them whenever he brushed them off or kept them away from his work. You felt once again like you had thirty years ago, when a stranger had moved into your house. Except this time, the stranger was someone that you thought you knew, only he seemed much different than you remembered him.
Sleep eluded your grasp for many nights that week. You often laid in bed on your back, staring up at the dark ceiling for hours after everyone else had fallen asleep. Your head was swimming with thoughts of Ford, and the words that he had said to you that first night rang in your ears on an endless loop. Occasionally, you would even think about what you had said to him. Every single word that you had said was true, no matter how much it hurt to admit it. Sometimes, as you replayed the sound of your own voice telling Ford that you still loved him, you would glance over at Stan.
Stan always looked so peaceful in his sleep; the hurt and hardships he had endured throughout his life were washed from his face by the sweet release of favorable dreams. Stan snored softly, a familiar and comforting sound that you had grown used to over the thirty years you had spent together. "I do love you, Ford." Whispered your voice in your head. A low snore from Stan. "I never stopped loving you." Stan's chest rising and falling rhythmically with his breaths. "I missed you every day." Stan's eyelids fluttering momentarily as he dreamed. "I still love you Ford." Stan's lips parted just slightly in his relaxed state. "Maybe I shouldn't have fallen in love with him." You turned on your side to face the wall.
Loving Stan was easy. Stan had always been simple and understandable. He wasn't the sort of man to bother himself with complex emotions, which was something that you had always appreciated about him. He was straightforward and down to earth, and he was agreeable and easy to get along with, even with his oftentimes short temper. Stan had a good head on his shoulders, and a heart made of solid gold. When you looked at Stan, you saw stability and protection. You knew that he would always be by your side no matter what, as he had been for all of the years that you had known him.
Ford, on the other hand, had always been more complicated than his brother. Ford was like a puzzle that you loved trying to solve, but whenever you thought you had completed it, you always found that you were missing a few pieces. He was guarded and secretive, a trait that he had no doubt picked up during his childhood as a defense against the kids that picked on him for his differences. When you were dating, it had been hard for Ford to open up to you, even after a year of being together. But you had always been patient with him, always given him space, always respected his privacy, because you loved him. And even though it was sometimes difficult for him to show it, Ford loved you too.
One night, about a week after Ford had come back through the portal, you had gotten out of bed after a few hours of trying and failing to fall asleep. The house was still and silent at this time of night, as if even it had fallen into a listless slumber along with its occupants. The only thing to break up the monotony of the thick silence that enveloped you was the sound of your soft footsteps on the wood floor, your bare feet causing the old wood panels to release muffled sighs of discontentment. You had assumed that you were the only person awake this late, but as you reached the kitchen, you discovered that you were not alone in your twilit drifting.
Ford was sitting at the kitchen table, his elbows resting on the edge of the wood as his hands curled around a steaming mug of what you assumed must be coffee. Soft, pale rays of moonlight floated in through the kitchen window, illuminating Ford's figure and reflecting off of his glasses. His brows were furrowed in deep thought, and the dark circles under his eyes stood out harshly against his fair skin. His hair was ruffled and unkempt, as if he had been running his hands through it. He looked as if he hadn't gotten any sleep tonight, or for that matter, any of the other nights he had been here so far.
Though staying up late had never been uncommon for Ford, it had been a very long time since you had come across him in the house at night, so the sight of him startled you momentarily. Ford must have heard your quiet gasp of surprise, because he turned his head to face you, casting his features in shadow as he did so. For a moment, the two of you just stared at each other in silence, both surprised to find that the other was awake at this hour. When you finally found your voice, you whispered an apology for bothering him, then turned to walk back down the hallway.
"(y/n), wait." You heard Ford say, his voice soft and hushed. You stopped and turned back around, lingering in the doorway for a moment before he motioned for you to join him. You walked over to the table, pulling out the chair across from Ford and sitting down in it. From this close proximity, you could tell that he was indeed drinking coffee, and the rich, bitter scent of it wafted up into the air and circled around you. You had always told him that he shouldn't drink coffee so late at night, that he should go to bed and get some rest, his work would always be there in the morning. When you moved in with him, he had finally listened to your advice and cut his nightly routine in favor of spending the night in bed with you. It seemed that sometime between then and now he had returned to his old habit, and you bit back the urge to reprimand him for it.
Ford stared at you in silence, and you could almost see the gears in his head turning as he tried to decide how to word whatever he was about to say. He finally sighed and inhaled deeply before speaking. "I'm sorry for what I said to you. I shouldn't have been so harsh, you didn't deserve that. I shouldn't have even brought it up when I was angry, I-" Ford started, but you cut him off gently. "No, no Ford, you don't have to apologize for that. You have every right to be angry. I understand." You said, your voice no louder than a whisper. "No, I don't have any right to be angry. You're allowed to make your own choices, and I shouldn't have been so upset by that. You were right. I wasn't there for you. I should have been, I wanted to be, but I wasn't. You had every right to move on, and to do whatever made you happy, even if it hurt me. And I'm glad you weren't alone. I'm glad someone was there with you when I couldn't be, even if that someone was Stan. And I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you like that. It was my own fault that I never moved on." Ford insisted, and somehow the honesty of his statement cut deeper than the words he had said to you on the night he had returned.
You didn't know what to say in response to that, so you simply stared across the table at him. You were sure he could see the sadness on your face in the moonlight, but you didn't try to hide it. Ford seemed to sense that you weren't going to respond, so he spoke up again. "I still love you, (y/n)." Ford admitted simply, the words coming out on a breath, nearly soundless. There it was again, that feeling of your heart twisting inside your chest, strangling on the sorrow you felt. "Ford..." You choked out, your eyes starting to sting with the first trace of oncoming tears.
In the silence that followed, you could almost hear the sound of both you and Ford's hearts beating, and the soft breaths falling from your lips. You felt yourself being drawn to him, being flooded by the desperate need to be closer to him. Seemingly without trying to move, you leaned towards him over the table, as if pushed forward by an invisible force against your back. But you weren't alone, Ford had moved closer too, his coffee mug now pushed to the side of the table and out of the way. You felt every thought slip from your mind, and you let your instinct guide you. Your eyelids slipped shut and you leaned into Ford, your lips meeting his and fitting together like puzzle pieces.
The feeling of Ford's lips on yours was hauntingly familiar, like the fleeting memory of an old melody that you hadn't heard in years. But it was a tune that you still knew how to play, as if the notes had been carved into the deepest recesses of your heart and were never forgotten, nor ever faded. Your lips moved against his in tandem, the two of you falling into a perfect rhythm even after all of your years apart. Ford's hand reached up to cradle your cheek, his fingers warm to the touch from holding his coffee mug. It was as if the two of you got lost in each other, and let go of your grip on the earth in favor of floating away into the night sky among the stars. But a moment can't last forever, and you came crashing back down into reality helplessly.
As you pulled away from the kiss for a breath of air, Ford's hand lingered on your cheek. Your eyes blinked open and as you looked at Ford, you could only see Stan. Stan, who loved you and trusted you. Stan, who had stuck by your side through thick and thin during all those years. Stan, who would be angry if he found out about this. No, not angry. Stan, who would be hurt, devastated, if he found out. And there it was again. Guilt, your constant companion.
You felt your cheeks flush red in shame and you pulled away from Ford's touch. You could see a trace of confusion etch into Ford's face, but you ignored his wordless question and stood from the table. The chair you had been sitting on squeaked slightly as you stood, it's feet rubbing across the wood floor for an inch or two as it was pushed back by your legs. The minute disruption traveled up the legs of the table and reached Ford's mug, causing the coffee inside to quiver just slightly like a small, dark pond ruffled by a gust of wind. Without a word, you turned and left the kitchen, retreating down the hallway to your bedroom. Unbeknownst to you, Ford's gaze followed you all the way through the kitchen, and lingered in the doorway for long after you had crossed through it.
As you returned to bed, you shut the door behind you and it closed with a soft click. You laid down on your side, staring off into the darkness of your room, away from Stan. He was still sleeping soundly, unaware of what was happening in the house during these midnight hours. You sighed softly, reaching up to touch your fingertips to your lips. You could still taste the lingering flavor of coffee on your lips that had transferred from Ford's mouth when he kissed you. You could still feel warmth on the side of your face from where he had held it, as if the phantom traces of his hand still cupped your cheek with a sort of delicate firmness.
You tried to shake off the residual feeling of the kiss, but it refused to release it's hold on you. Your brows knit together in a look of desperation, and you felt confusion swirling around in your mind like a dark and dangerous whirlpool. You felt as if you were standing on a precipice just above that whirlpool, staring into it's dizzying depths and feeling your grip on the ledge slipping as heavy gusts of wind buffeted you mercilessly. You felt your heart begin to pound in your chest, its beats harsh and erratic. As you squeezed your eyes shut, you heard your own voice softly ask, "Oh God, what am I doing?"
The next morning it was as if nothing had happened. Ford was only upstairs a couple of times that day, but when he was neither of you spoke of what had happened between you the night before, and you were certainly glad about that. On the rare occasion that you were in the same room, Ford would often find himself staring at you when you weren't looking. But just because you didn't notice his staring didn't mean everybody else didn't. Stan was the first to catch on to his brother's focus on you. Stan, of course, knew all about you and Ford's history, so it concerned him to notice Ford's sudden interest in you. He wouldn't have been bothered by it if he hadn't tried to approach you about it, but he did and your strangely anxious brushing-off of his comments left him a bit unsettled.
Stan wasn't the only one prying about in your business. Mabel, who had always been very perceptive and uniquely keen towards all things romantic, had also caught sight of Ford's glances and decided to ask you about it. You tried to brush off the subject like you had with Stan, but Mabel was not so easily deterred. "Auntie (y/n)," Mabel had started, reaching out to hold both of your hands in hers while staring directly into your eyes. "I'm so good at keeping secrets. You can tell me anything." She had said, stretching out the last word for emphasis, her large, dark eyes wide and unblinking.
You had given in to her pressing; you figured you owed her that much after you had similarly persuaded her into divulging her secrets for most of the summer. After getting over her initial shock at the revelation that you had dated Ford long before you met Stan, "You and Great Uncle Ford?! But I- You- But Grunkle Stan- You're married!", Mabel was a very quiet yet intrigued listener. You wrapped up your story with you and Stan's wedding, leaving out the more recent developments of the tale like the kiss you and Ford shared the night before.
"That is so sad! Your life is like a sad movie!" Mabel exclaimed empathetically, her shock visible in her wide eyes. You laughed softly at that and shrugged at Mabel with a smile. "Maybe so. But the past is the past, there's nothing I could change about any of this even if I wanted to." You responded, trying to keep your voice light. Mabel picked up on the undertones of sorrow in your voice and she frowned at you thoughtfully. "Auntie (y/n), do you still like Great Uncle Ford?" Mabel pressed, her voice dropped to a confidential whisper. "I-" You stammered, but the blush that rose to your cheeks had already given Mabel the answer she needed.
Mabel's overly dramatic gasp echoed around the room, bouncing off of the walls and ceiling even after Mabel's mouth closed. "Mabel, listen," You started, your hands raised in front of you in an instinctive gesture of defense. "But, what about Grunkle Stan? Don't you love him?" Mabel questioned, her voice rising slightly in her surprised and upset state. "Of course I do, Mabel. I love your Grunkle Stan very much." You answered honestly, and that seemed to relax Mabel a little. "What are you going to do?" Mabel asked, that thoughtful frown returning to her face. "I don't know, Mabel. I wish I did." You responded simply, a sigh escaping your lips.
Mabel nodded to herself gravely, reaching out to take your hands in hers once again. "Auntie (y/n), love is the second most important thing in my life. I am a romance expert. If you need help deciding what to do, I'll be right here." Mabel said seriously, and the big words coming from such a goofy girl made you smile. "Okay Mabel, you'll be the first person I call." You assured her, pulling her in for a hug. Mabel's face lit up in a bright, braces-filled smile.
"Oh, Mabel?" You asked as you pulled out of the hug, looking down at her grinning face. "Yeah Auntie (y/n)?" She responded, tilting her head slightly in question. "You said love was the second most important thing in your life, so what's the first?" You questioned, quirking a brow in curiosity. Mabel's smile, if possible, grew even wider. "Oh, that's easy," She answered, her eyes sparkling with that mischievous look you had grown so accustomed to. "Annoying Dipper!" She finished, causing the two of you to burst into laughter. You were relieved to know that your secrets hadn't caused her to be angry with you. You knew no matter what happened, at least Mabel would have your back.
As the days went on, you grew ever more grateful for Mabel's support. It seemed as though tensions between you, Stan, and Ford were rising with each minute that you spent together. It was getting harder and harder for you to avoid Ford, and Stan's suspicions were growing steadily day by day. A sense of dread was stealthily creeping its way into your mind, as if your subconscious knew that something was preparing to happen. You and Stan had lived together happily for thirty years, but now you had introduced a new variable into the equation and the scales of the universe were eager to balance themselves. You could almost feel the scales tilting under your feet, and you were afraid that you wouldn't all be able to hold on forever, and soon one of you would slip off. Something was going to happen, something big and bad, and it was only a matter of when.
Though it could be said that most everything that had happened in the lives of you and the elder Pines twins had been responsible for setting in motion this collision that you were currently en route to, you considered only a handful of events to be "The events that lead up to the big, bad Something." The first of these events was not Ford's return from the portal, or even the kiss you and Ford had shared that night in the kitchen. In fact, this first event happened quite a long time after both of those happenings. Nearly a month after, to be exact. In your mind, your reasoning for considering this "The First Event", instead of either of those other reasonable candidates, was incredibly simple. It was the first time that you really and truly messed up.
Stan had taken Dipper and Mabel to Greasy's Diner for breakfast one morning. He had invited you to join them, but you declined on the grounds that you had some work to get done around the house. Stan had kissed you on the cheek as he left, and you laughed as the twins practically herded him to the car, chanting "Pancakes! Pancakes! Pancakes!" the whole way. "See you in a few hours!" Stan had called to you from the driver's seat of the old El Diablo, and you had waved goodbye as it pulled out of the driveway and sped off down the road. Then it was just you in the house, and Ford two floors below you in the basement.
True to your word, you actually did have some cleaning up to do in the house. You decided to start in the living room, as you hadn't cleaned it properly in a couple of weeks. You pulled out a broom and dustpan from your storage closet, bypassing the old Stan-Vac in the corner. Stan insisted that it worked, so he had never bought another vacuum cleaner. But you were the one who had spent years trying to get the old thing to clean, and you knew that it worked about as well as a feather duster with no feathers. So it sat in the back of a closet for the better part of three decades while you swept the floors with a broom.
You had nearly finished sweeping the living room when you heard the faint sound of a crash followed by a muffled shout from beneath your feet. You instinctively dropped the broom and ran to the elevator behind the vending machine in the gift shop. It was there that you hesitated, your finger hovering over the keypad next to the elevator doors. After all that had happened between the two of you, did you really want to face Ford alone? Without the barrier of Stan and the twins around, Ford might want to talk about something that you would sooner just forget. But that shout had sounded pained, and the fear that he was hurt crowded your mind and pushed out your more selfish concerns. So you entered the code into the keypad and took the elevator down to the basement.
"Ford? Are you alright?" You called out as soon as the elevator doors opened. Your question was met with silence, so you stepped out of the elevator and looked around the basement. You hadn't been down here since the night the portal opened, and a few things had changed since then. The dust and cobwebs had been swept away, and the room seemed brighter, as if the lightbulbs had finally been replaced. Large brown tarps covered the windows to the portal room, blocking it from your view. There were small, multicolored lights flashing on different machines that you and Stan had never turned on, and the lights reflected off of a pile of broken glass on the ground towards the back of the room. The glint from the glass shards caught your eye and you made your way towards them, noticing only then that the door to the portal room stood slightly ajar.
"Ford?" You called out again, and this time your voice was heard. Ford came through the door out of the portal room, kicking the door shut behind him with his foot. "Yes?" Ford asked, a brow quirked in what appeared to be confusion. His follow up question, "What are you doing down here?", was not spoken aloud, but implied by his expression and the tone of his voice. "I heard a crash. Are you alright?" You responded, repeating your unanswered question from earlier. You glanced down at the glass, then back up at Ford. Your eyes caught on his hand, and you noticed that it was wrapped in a cloth bandage which was slowly darkening as blood seeped through the fabric.
Ford saw where you were looking and flexed his fingers self-consciously, moving his hand to hide slightly behind his back. "Oh, right, yes. I'm fine. Just dropped a container." Ford explained, kicking aside some of the glass with the toe of his boot. "Are you sure? You look like you're bleeding pretty bad." You stated, reaching out to grab his arm and pull his hand towards you. You held his hand gently, turning it over so his palm faced you. You could just make out the outline of the cut by lightly tracing your finger across the bandage, but it was impossible to tell how deep it was.
You looked up to meet Ford's eyes and noticed that his cheeks had flushed red. You felt a wave of embarrassment crash over you and you let go of his hand, which dropped back to his side. Ford had often gotten himself hurt during his research, and helping him take care of cuts and burns had become so ingrained in you that even thirty years later you still acted on that instinct.
"I'm sorry," You started, taking a step backwards to add to the distance between the two of you. "Just... habit, you know." You explained, gesturing at his bandaged hand and turning your gaze to the ground in shame. At the top of your vision, you saw the toes of Ford's black boots. One took a small step towards you, then the other. A few of the broken glass shards crunched under the thick soles of Ford's work boots. You felt a hand, the uninjured one you assumed from the lack of cloth bandage, press gently against your right cheek. His fingers almost caressed your skin as they looped underneath your jaw and carefully raised your chin until your face was fully visible to Ford. Your eyes moved upwards and landed on his.
Those eyes. You couldn't help but stare, taking in the colors and the details that you hadn't seen this up close in so long. The blinking lights in the machines around you reflected off of his shining eyes, entrancing you the way a swinging coin could hypnotize even an unwilling person. His irises were warm shades of brown, varying from dark chestnut to almost a cherry wood red to golden highlights on the topmost ridges. You felt yourself getting lost in his eyes, and you couldn't help but wonder if he was doing the same with yours.
Before you knew it, before you could stop yourself, you were kissing him again. Your lips connected softly at first, then harder as your desperation started to build. Ford was like a drug to you, you knew you shouldn't have him but god was it hard to stay away. The tip of your nose almost hurt from being pressed into his cheek, but you barely noticed the discomfort as your hands reached up to slide through his hair. You felt Ford's hands rest on your hips, gently and almost unsure at first, as if he was wordlessly asking, "Are you okay with this?"
The soft moan that escaped your lips and echoed in his mouth seemed to be the yes he needed, and he gripped you more firmly, pulling your body in to connect with his. He was warm and solid, and you felt his body press against yours in all the right places. You had ached for this for so many years that it almost felt like you were dreaming. The thought made you pull your face away from his so you could look at him again. Your hands moved to his cheeks and your fingers traced along the soft, clean-shaven skin of his face. He stared back at you as you took in the sight of him, his lips parted slightly as he breathed.
He was beautiful. His soft brown eyes, his pronounced cheekbones, his square jaw, his cupid's bow lips, even his wrinkled skin. His expression was soft, loving, but curious. It seemed as if he wanted to ask you what you were thinking in that moment, but he was too scared to break the silence between you. Even if he did ask, you weren't sure how you could explain to him what you were thinking as you stared at him. Because you were thinking that, up this close, he looked nothing like Stan. They may share a face but they were each so unique. Especially now that so many years had passed. You only realized this because just then, while you were staring at Ford, he was the only man on your mind. So you pulled his face back to yours for another kiss.
Ford's touch erased all of your sense. His lips distracted your guilty conscience. His warmth, his smell, his taste made it impossible for you to pull away. There must have been a voice in your head telling you to stop, asking you how you could do this to Stan, warning you of the consequences of your actions. But if there was, you couldn't hear it over the pounding of your heart as you held, caressed, and kissed Ford the way you had craved for thirty years.
Your heart was pounding so hard that you could hear it above the gasps of air that you took as Ford's hands started to wander across your body. He detached his mouth from yours and you heard quick, shaky breaths coming from his parted lips before he started to plant kisses along your jawline and down your neck. The feeling of his lips and nose trailing down the sensitive skin of your neck caused chills to run across your entire body. You leaned your head back and moaned softly as his lips brushed your collarbone.
This was no longer the gentle, almost unsure kiss that it had started out as. There was a kind of silent desperation in each of you as you kissed and caressed each other. Ford's body language had shifted from "I missed you," to "I've been craving you." His hands gripped your butt and pulled you harder against him. The feeling of your bodies pressing and rubbing against each other caused you to shiver in excitement. You could feel that Ford was excited too, and suddenly you didn't care what this would do to Stan.
You may love Stan, and he loves you, but it hadn't been this way in awhile. On the occasion that you did spend this kind of personal time with him, it was never this passionate, this desperate. Ford's touch was electrifying. His fingertips wandered under your shirt and trailed the ticklish skin on your waist. You wanted more, everywhere. You lifted your shirt over your head and dropped it on the ground beside you. Ford had to disconnect his mouth from your neck as you did so, and he took the opportunity to pull back and take in the sight of you. He didn't say a word, but the look of desire in his half-lidded gaze spoke volumes.
You moved your hands to Ford's cheeks to pull him back to you, but a shrill beep sounded from one of the monitors on Ford's desk. You both turned your heads to see what had interrupted your moment and saw an alert that a motion detector on the porch had been triggered. "What's that?" You asked breathlessly, your brain still clouded by your feelings of arousal. "I assume it's our warning that Stan is back." Ford responded, straightening his posture and pulling back from you. His cheeks were flushed bright red from the close contact with you, but now he had a scowl on his face.
For just a moment, you stared at him as he turned his head to meet your gaze. You wanted so badly to ignore the alarm and go back to what you had just been doing, but an unspoken understanding seemed to have passed between the two of you. Ford bent down for a moment and stood back up with your discarded shirt in his hands. "You need to go back upstairs." He said softly, in a way that seemed as though he was disappointed but had already accepted it. You nodded slowly and he passed your shirt into your hands, caressing your knuckles with his fingers as he did so.
"I need to," You agreed aloud as you wrapped your fingers around the fabric, "But I don't want to. You know that, right?" You could see a certain kind of comfort cross Ford's face at this admittance. He reached up to take your chin in between his thumb and forefinger, then leaned his head back down to yours for a soft kiss. "I know." He breathed as he pulled away once more, leaving a little love peck on the tip of your nose as he went. You smiled warmly at the affectionate gesture before putting your shirt back on and moving towards the elevator.
As you waited for the door to open, you turned back to Ford. He was already watching you, so your gaze locked with his and lingered for a few seconds after the elevator doors had opened. You had to almost force yourself to board the lift and leave the basement, but you knew you couldn't stay much longer without it seeming suspicious. So you went back upstairs to Stan, your husband, and despite knowing how much your infidelity would crush him, you felt no remorse.
Chapter 3: *Update*
Chapter Text
*Update*
The first chapter was posted 6 years ago. The second posted 3 years after the first. It has now been another 3 years since then... For any Grunkle fuckers still out there, get ready for everything to be different in chapter 3.
Chapter 4: We Interrupt Your Regularly Scheduled Programming...
Summary:
They say things always get worse before they can get better, and boy did things get worse.
Notes:
after all these years... finally, i'm posting chapter 3. to anyone who has been hanging on for the last six years, thank you for your service. chapter 4 is already in the works, so buckle up for that ;)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
A gasp tore through your throat the second your eyes opened. You blinked the bleariness of sleep from your vision and let your eyes adjust to the dim light of your bedroom. As you rolled over onto your side, you saw that the other side of your bed was empty. Stan was already gone. Or, he hadn’t come to bed in the first place. Once again, you weren’t for sure. Once again, you didn’t have it in yourself to care.
You had woken up in a nightmare, again. Every day was just the same as the one before. Wake, survive, sleep, repeat. You supposed that was really all one could do at the end of the world. A few days prior, Bill Cipher had escaped from his dimension and taken a physical form in yours. It took only a few minutes for Gravity Falls to descend into total chaos. Monsters were unleashed, buildings were destroyed, people went missing. So many people.
You and Stan were among the lucky ones. You had been near the Shack when Bill reigned chaos upon your tiny town, and your distance from the epicenter of the weirdness gave you enough time to hunker down before the shockwaves engulfed the forest around you. It quickly became evident that the Shack was protected from the effects of the Oddpocalypse, likely due to the warding put up during Mabel’s unicorn catastrophe. For what felt like hours, you and Stan hid inside your makeshift bunker, too afraid to venture into the unknown outside your door.
To your amazement, Shandra Jimenez was still broadcasting live from the Gravity Falls news station. You sat cross legged on the floor and watched the TV screen in horror as she described the madness befalling the town. Live streams from the streets showed crumbled structures, wrecked cars, multiple fires, and people running for their lives from hoards of creatures from Bill’s chaos dimension. The only things the news cameras didn’t show were the things you wanted to see more than anything. Ford and the kids were nowhere to be found.
You spent an agonizingly long amount of time standing in front of the gift shop door and peering out the little window, waiting for any signs of your family’s return. The last you had seen any of them, Dipper had been with Ford on an excursion through the woods and Mabel had left the Shack on her own. You had already checked the Shack from attic to basement just in case any of them had returned home while you and Stan had been in the woods, but found no signs of any of them. You were resigned to waiting by the door for their return and attempting to build up the courage to step outside of your protective bubble and go looking for your missing family members. For hours, Stan stood beside you quietly, likely having the same thoughts you were having.
The tense silence was eventually broken by the appearance of a band of stragglers led by Fiddleford McGucket. You opened your doors, allowing people and creatures alike to pour into your place of refuge. Most were looking rough around the edges, a few were wounded, and a small handful were half turned to stone. Grateful for the distraction, you gathered water bottles and first aid kits to distribute between the survivors. Some had scrapes and cuts that you tended to with cleansers and bandages, while others required stitches from Stan to close their gashes. In a matter of moments, the Mystery Shack went from quiet and empty to a bustling makeshift hospital akin to those in a war.
As you made your way around the room from person to person, bandaging minor injuries, you began to ask if anyone had seen Ford, Dipper, or Mabel. You heard, “No, sorry,” more times than you could count. Some people tried to offer possibilities, speculating that they could be hiding out in the mall or the woods, but they didn’t know for sure. You finally received a definitive answer when you got to Fiddleford. He was evasive at first, seemingly too frightened to speak about the things he had seen, but you eventually coaxed it out of him.
Mabel’s location was unknown. No one Fidds had spoken to had seen hide nor hair of her since Bill’s release. But Fiddleford himself had seen Ford and Dipper in the town square hours ago. You listened with bated breath as he told you the story of what he had seen; Ford firing on Bill from the bell tower and missing, leading to Ford’s capture and Bill sending two minions after Dipper. Fidds believed Dipper had gotten away, but he hadn’t been able to stick around long enough to make sure.
You felt the news like a blow to your core. The kids were currently nowhere to be found and likely in danger without you, Stan, or Ford there to protect them. And Ford was gone. Again. 30 years’ worth of work was gone in the blink of an eye. Your second chance with Ford had just been taken from you, and you had no idea if there was even a possibility of getting it back. Rebuilding the portal was hard enough, and you weren’t sure that anyone on Earth was capable of defeating Bill. It seemed like you had lost before you even had the chance to try.
After all this time, Bill finally had Ford in his grasp. Was he safe? Probably not. Was he alive…? You could only hope, but you didn’t have much hope left in you. You nodded your thanks to Fiddleford, too overwhelmed to speak but too shellshocked to break down in tears. You staggered back to the window and stared out without really seeing anything. Stan must have noticed you move off on your own, and he was at your side within a second. He softly asked you what was wrong, but you were only able to shake your head and point to Fiddleford.
You stayed at your post by the door as Stan got the news from Fidds. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t think of any way to get out of this nightmare you were trapped in. During your search of the house, you had noted that Ford’s journals were nowhere to be found. They were likely in Ford’s pack at the time, meaning they were probably a casualty of the skirmish between Ford and Bill. That left you with no access to any information that could possibly help you defeat Bill. The only thing that might have worked was the gun Fidds saw Ford shoot at Bill with, but Fidds was confident that the gun had been destroyed when Bill blew the top off of the bell tower.
Stan returned to your side after his update and started rambling off ideas for rescuing the kids and Ford. But he poked his own holes through each new idea, becoming increasingly agitated with the hopelessness of the situation. You stayed quiet, listening as his fear turned to frustration and he started blaming Ford for being captured and assuming the kids must have been taken as well. Without a word from you, Stan got himself so worked up that he ended with, “That’s it, we’re staying in here! There’s enough food to last us a few weeks at least, and after that, I’m going down with the ship!”
So that was what you did for the next four days. Wake, survive, sleep, repeat. During the day, more survivors would find their way to the Shack. You would offer food and water, clean and bandage their wounds, and find a spot on the crowded floor of the living room for them to sleep. Occasionally, an Eye Bat would fly by, peering into the windows and causing everyone to extinguish the lamps and duck behind furniture. Every so often you would find yourself standing at the door, waiting for the arrival of family who you knew you wouldn’t see again. You would spend the evenings rooting around the basement on your own, searching for something, anything, that could help you rescue Dipper, Mabel, and Ford. At the end of the night, you always left the basement empty handed and more hopeless than the day before, trudging your way up the creaky stairs for a few hours of restless sleep in your empty bed.
The tension had driven a wedge between you and Stan rather quickly. You were frustrated by his quick decision to just give up on your family and accept certain death at Bill’s hands. He seemed irritated by your refusal to agree that this was all Ford’s fault in some way, taking that to mean that you were siding with Ford instead of him. You also had the nagging sensation that maybe Stan sensed the deeper meaning behind your desperation to have Ford back, something that Stan had already been insecure about prior to Weirdmaggedon. So, you woke early every morning in a cold, empty bed, with nothing but a growing ache of fear and pain inside of you. Then, one day, the storm clouds parted.
Your newest refugee at the Mystery Shack was Tony Determined. Or was it Toby? You couldn’t remember. Regardless, he found his way to the shack despite being covered in darts and only half-conscious. He was too drugged to explain what had happened to him, but you set about pulling darts from his body anyways. A couple of gnomes joined in to help, and you established a system where they would pull a dart and you would clean the mark left behind. About halfway through the process, you heard a commotion coming from the front of the house. You motioned around the room for everyone to extinguish their lanterns, then slowly crept towards the entryway.
“Kids!” You heard Stan exclaim from near the front door. The word caused your heart to leap with a sudden spark of hope and you quickly moved around the crowd of people who had leapt up to defend the Shack. When you got to the front of the group, you nearly melted in relief at the sight of Dipper and Mabel running forward to hug Stan. The kids were accompanied by Wendy and Soos, who joined in the hug. As they all pulled away, Mabel caught sight of you and called, “Auntie (y/n)!” Before you could blink, the twins had thrown themselves at you for another hug, which you returned readily as tears welled up in your eyes.
For the next half hour or so, you and Stan caught up with the kids. Dipper confirmed Fiddleford’s story about Ford’s capture, then recounted finding Wendy and Soos before rescuing Mabel. Mabel jumped in with her own details at that point, explaining how she had been trapped by Bill in a bubble that she didn’t want to leave. You explained the state of the Shack and how you had made it through the weirdness waves unscathed thanks to the Shack’s warding. Stan added that he had declared himself de facto chief of the group, and outlined his plan to hide out in the Shack until you all had to resort to eating the gnomes.
Dipper, like you, was shocked by Stan's refusal to fight back against Bill. He argued against giving up and hiding in the Shack, but Stan didn't want to listen. He shot down Dipper's arguments and yet again blamed Ford for his own capture. He sat down in his armchair heavily to dismiss the conversation, accidentally turning on the TV as he did so. The screen lit up with another live broadcast from the Gravity Falls news station, this time depicting the inside of Bill's pyramid-shaped castle.
The crowd inside the Shack went still and silent as everyone stared, transfixed, at the horrors shown on the screen. Countless townspeople, friends, neighbors, and loved ones, had been turned to stone by the Eye Bats. Each familiar frozen figure, their faces and bodies contorted in fear, stood stacked on top of each other. The dozens and dozens of statues worked together to create a giant stone throne, presumably upon which Bill would sit.
You all watched, helpless, as Shandra Jimenez was turned to stone by a passing Eye Bat. The sight triggered a reaction from some of the crowd, who erupted in fear and frustration over the sight of their family members crammed into the stone chair. Spurred by the outburst, Mabel and Dipper took a stand and roused the crowd, refusing to back down even when Stan tried to assert his de facto authority. There was a momentary lapse in the gathering's confidence when Stan pointed out that the Shack was the only place you would all be safe, but the issue was resolved instantly when inspiration struck Fiddleford.
Finally, after one increasingly miserable week, you had a tiny spark of hope again. With Fiddleford's plan and the twins' courage, it seemed like maybe you really did have a chance at beating Bill for good. The survivors rallied, summoning the energy to build onto the Shack as Fidds instructed. Your home was once more full of life, bustling with troops under the command of the younger Pines twins. You jumped at the opportunity to pitch in, gathering supplies and connecting pieces to make giant robotic limbs.
Blinded by the wave of excitement coursing through the crowd, you barely noticed Stan's refusal to help. Your focus was on saving the town that you loved. Well, some of your focus was on the town anyways. Your mind kept drifting to thoughts of Ford. You wondered if he was still alive or if he had been turned to stone like the rest of the townsfolk. He could be a piece of Bill's gruesome throne. He could have been eaten by one of Bill's henchmen. He could have been tossed back into another dimension, never to be seen again.
You had to force down the fear that was wrapping itself around your heart like the thorny tendrils of a rosebush. If Ford really was gone... You couldn't think about it. You had to focus on the task in front of you. Drill a hole here, bolt these pieces together there, don't assume the worst. You grasped onto that rhythm and let your muscle memory do the work. You didn't have any other choice. Though small, there was still a chance that Ford was alive. You had to keep going for him.
By nightfall, the unlikely crew had fully assembled the pieces laid out in Fiddleford's blueprints. Your home for the last 30 years had become a mobile weapons-equipped robot, which you all planned to use to infiltrate Bill's castle. It was crazy, but maybe just crazy enough that it could work. The air had gotten cold as the sun went down, and someone lit a fire while Mabel passed out numerous sweaters that she somehow had time to knit.
Each sweater bore an icon that Mabel seemed to have chosen specifically for each person, similar to her signature shooting star sweater. When Mabel passed you the sweater she had knit for you, you unfolded it to reveal three hearts in a diagonal row, all bound together by a cupid's arrow. Your gaze flicked back up to Mabel's face, which bore a sad smile that seemed strangely mature on her young features. Even after all of this chaos, she clearly hadn't forgotten the conversation you had with her after Ford's rescue from the portal.
You quietly thanked Mabel and put on the sweater, which you were very thankful for with the chilly air. Everyone adorned themselves with their individualized sweaters and settled around the campfire, exhausted but buzzing with excitement about tomorrow. Almost everyone, that was. Stan was sitting off to the side, mumbling something to Schmebulock. You turned to watch as the kids made their way over to Stan and asked him what was going on.
Stan's gaze darted to you, and the two of you locked eyes for a moment. It seemed like he was about to say something, then changed his mind and instead said, "It's this darn plan to save my brother. If you didn't notice, we already saved him once from that portal, and he never thanked me!" Stan's attention had turned fully to the twins, almost intentionally shielding his eyes from you. You suspected there was a deeper issue than just Stan's frustration over his brother being viewed as a hero while he was labeled "the screw-up," but he clearly didn't want to admit to it in front of the kids.
You felt a flash of anger at the thought that Stan was willing to leave his own brother to rot in Bill's castle just to keep him away from you. You had to bite your tongue to keep from starting an argument, and instead watched Mabel try to distract Stan and Dipper from their bickering with a motivational speech. You had come to realize over the last month that you had never known the version of Stan that had Ford in his life. You had only met him after Ford was sucked into the portal on that dark night thirty years ago.
The Stan that existed while Ford was quite literally multiple dimensions away was a headstrong, determined, mostly mature man who swept you off your feet with a wisecrack and a full bodied laugh. That Stan made you feel safe, secure, cared for. You could let your guard down knowing that he would always be there to protect you from whatever trials and tribulations you had to face. He had never been much for deep emotional connection, but he tried his best and at least always offered you a shoulder to cry on.
This Stan, however, was different. The Stan that showed back up when Ford was suddenly in the same dimension again was what you imagined Stan had been like during his childhood and teenage years. Bitter, jealous, insecure. You knew that those feelings came from an honest place, pain from decades of feeling subpar to his brother and hurt over Ford's reaction to his rescue not being what Stan had envisioned. But you couldn't help being rubbed the wrong way by his immature behavior. You were grateful to have Ford back when you finally reopened the portal, and now you were devastated to have lost him again. It felt like Stan was frustrated by that, maybe even threatened.
You pushed aside your irritation as the crew of humans and creatures decided to call it a night and retired to the Shack. For the first time in almost a week, Stan followed you to your shared bedroom. Neither of you said a word as you changed into pajamas and climbed into opposite sides of your old, creaky bed. The air in the room was charged with irritability from the both of you, but you took a deep breath and tried your best to neutralize before broaching the subject.
You weren't completely sure how to voice your thoughts gently, so you worked it over in your head for a few minutes before finally settling on, "Stan, we spent thirty years trying to open that portal to rescue Ford. You'd really just let all that be for nothing because he didn't thank you for it?" You were able to keep the bite out of your voice, but your words still caused Stan to grunt frustratedly.
You turned your head to face him and saw that Stan was lying flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling. His lips were stretched taught and his brows were furrowed. You could see his muscular jaw clench and unclench as he seemed to weigh the options of what he should say next. You expected a snap back, more evasiveness and misplaced blame. When Stan finally spoke, his voice tight and quiet, his words surprised you. "That wasn't all we did in those thirty years, (y/n)."
It wasn't a reveal of his complete thoughts and feelings, but it was the door opening just a crack. You knew him well enough to know what he was alluding to, and your heart was torn between empathy and anger. Of course he was worried about you and Ford. You had to admit to yourself that you hadn't exactly kept a professional distance from Ford since he had been back. After your first tryst in the basement while Stan and the kids went out for pancakes, you had seized a handful of other opportunities to be alone with Ford, each time going a little bit further than the last.
The thought caused your cheeks to flush red with shame, and you were grateful that the dim lighting of the bedroom hid your face. You did feel bad for the things you had done, at least, you felt bad for how they would affect Stan if he found out. But there was a selfish, fickle part of your heart screaming, "But I loved Ford first! You were second!" That defensive, righteous feeling bubbled up in your chest, twisting your lips into an angry frown. Even after thirty years, your first instinct was still to defend Ford first, and Stan's refusal to save him over your feelings lit a flame inside of you.
"I knew that's what this was about." You finally whispered, unable to keep the disappointment from creeping into your voice. Stan said nothing in response, and instead turned on his side to face away from you. You released a breath and followed suit, turning away from Stan to stare at the wall beyond you. The two of you laid in a tense silence for what felt like hours before you finally drifted off into an unsettled sleep.
As dawn came, the sun began to rise, and so did the nervous excitement within the Shack. You were out of bed and ready and go before most, but people soon started to wake and begin preparing for the day. Mabel had done a great job of keeping morale boosted, but there still seemed to be an undercurrent of fear running throughout the troops. You were going up against an all-powerful chaos demon who had captured and enslaved the majority of the townsfolk, after all. But everyone had mustered up a fighting spirit anyways. You might try and fail, but you had to try.
The plan wasn't air tight, but it was solid enough for a starting point. The Shack's motley crew went over a last minute checklist, testing robotics and weapons, and preparing parachutes. Mabel was as bright and chipper as ever, flouncing through the space and passing inspiration to each person she passed. Dipper was more somber and serious, focused on double and triple checking everything he could. Stan had begrudgingly agreed to pitch in, but you could tell he wasn't fully convinced that all the effort would be worth it. You could only hope that it was.
After the final tweaks had been made, and Dipper's checklist had been thoroughly reviewed, you all prepared to set the plan in motion. Fidds moved to the instrument panel and started flicking a few switches, causing mechanical groans to echo through the Shack as the machines whirred to life. Fidds turned to face the group assembled around him, peering at everyone through his green spectacles.
"Let's hope this turns out better than my other inventions!" He exclaimed, his voice crackling with excitement. You and Stan turned to face Dipper and Mabel, who looked to you with wide, anticipatory eyes. Mabel sent a questioning thumbs up in your direction, and you nodded in confirmation as Stan held his thumb up back to her. Carried by a surge of confidence, Mabel stood on a crate and called out, "Everybody ready?" The group sent nervous glances around the room, but Mabel didn't give anyone too much time to think before yelling, "Dipper, now!" As Dipper pulled down on the large lever in front of him, you reached out for Stan's arm and braced yourself for what came next.
Fiddleford's design worked like a charm. The Shack's robotic appendages fired up readily and rose your home high into the air. The floor shook with the effort, but you stood steady on your feet with Stan to balance you. Fidds pressed on what looked like a joystick and there was a loud metallic creak as the Shack lurched forward on its newfound legs and began the transport to Bill's castle, with Dipper steering it via a ship's wheel.
After a few steps, the movement became easier and the ride began to smooth out. You took the opportunity to step to the closest window and peer out over the canopy of trees in the forest below you. Birds flew from their perches, squawking in alarm at the disturbance. After a few silent moments, you felt a presence next to you and turned your head to see Stan standing beside you.
"Look, (y/n), in case this goes south... I need ya to know that I'm- I'm sorry. You're right, what's important right now is saving Ford. Again. So that's what we're gonna do." Stan said, low enough that no one behind you could hear his apology. He stared out the window, seemingly too embarrassed to make eye contact with you as he admitted he was wrong. You felt a pang of guilt, knowing that he was right to be worried about you and his brother. But it was true that you had bigger fish to fry at the moment than your affair.
You reached out and took Stan's hand in yours, lacing your fingers together. Stan's gaze dropped to your intertwined hands, then lifted to meet your eyes. You stared into the eyes of the man who had spent thirty years watching over you, providing for you, protecting you, and loving you. You felt your frustrations melt away as you saw the worry etched into the lines on Stan's face. Somehow, when you spent decades with someone day after day after day, it was easy to forget how much you really loved them.
Stan had been with you at the very lowest point in your life. You had been complete strangers at the time, but he had still cared for you and connected with you despite having no obligation to do so. Stan had given you far more than just a shoulder to cry on. He had given you a reason to wake up in the mornings, something to look forward to every day, the motivation to keep going even through your darkest hours. Stan had given you back your life. You felt your heart twist in your chest at the thought. There it was again. Guilt, your constant companion.
It wasn't just that you loved Stan, it was also that you owed everything you had to him. Were you really repaying three decades of care and shelter with infidelity? Did it matter that you were still in love with Ford, after everything Stan had done for you? You wished you could go back thirty years and think everything through before making the decisions you had made. But it was too late to change the past. All you could do was decide what your future would look like.
But first, you had to save Ford. You squeezed Stan's hand, wordlessly saying, "I love you," before turning back to look out the window. The Shack was now right in front of Bill's castle, and the dark bricks loomed in front of you in a sinister fashion. You heard Dipper call out from behind you, "Brace yourselves!" Through your vantage point at the window, you watched as one of the Shack's robotic arms flew forwards and collided with the pyramid, sending chunks of stone scattering across the sky around you.
Within a matter of seconds, the brawl began. Bill sent a hoard of his henchmaniacs spilling out of the new opening in the castle towards the Shack. The Shack's crew manned their battle stations, preparing to defend yourselves as soon as you heard one of the monsters cry, "Attack!" Everyone played their part like a well oiled machine. Candy and Grenda threw punches while Mabel and Waddles fired the cannon. Fiddleford took on the controls for the Gobblewonker, Dipper stood at the helm of the ship, and Stan flattened himself against the exit door.
The Shacktron blew through the henchmaniacs with far more ease than you had expected. You seized the periscope as the Multi-Bear was knocked backwards by a blow to the Shack, and peered through it just in time to see the largest of Bill's friends barreling towards you. "Incoming!" You cried, gripping onto the periscope to brace yourself for the hit. The force of the collision sent the Shack reeling back a few miles, but Candy and Grenda were able to use the Shack's arms to fend off your attacker enough to steady the Shacktron beneath your feet.
Thinking quickly, Mabel called out, "Everybody! Maximum power!" The lights grew brighter as the boyband on the treadmill ran faster, generating as much electricity as the Shack could take. When the power gauge reached its peak, Dipper flung the steering wheel with all his might, causing the Shack to twist and fling the monster in its grasp over the hills beyond you. For a moment, all was silent as you watched the last henchmaniac soar farther and farther away from the Shack, finally landing with a bang on the side of a mountain. Then, everybody erupted into relieved cheers.
Your celebration was short lived as the crew caught sight of Bill exiting his throne room and heading in your direction. His arm swung up in a wide arc, preparing to come down on the Shack and crush it. There was a gasp of horror from everyone inside as Bill's fist soared down through the air to deliver the finishing blow. Everything went dark, the windows covered by the demonic fist encasing the Shack. But then, miraculously, nothing happened.
"It worked!" You breathed, looking around the Shack as everyone came to the realization that the warding was still strong enough to defend against Bill himself. Victorious cries echoed around the Shack, interspersed with relieved laughter. Bill, however, did not share the same sentiment. As he realized his first hit had done nothing, he began raining frustrated blows down on the Shack's magical shield. "Attack!" Mabel commanded, encouraging Grenda to reach forward with her mechanical arm and snap onto Bill's eyeball before retracting and pulling it straight out of the socket.
Bill's distractedness was your cue to begin the next part of the plan. While some of the crew stayed behind to man the Shack, a handful of you grabbed weapons and pulled on parachutes before stepping into launch tubes. As the last of the rescue team hit their marks, Dipper ran over the plan quickly. "Hey, on second thought, maybe we could come up with a plan that doesn't involve us plummeting to our certain death." Stan interjected. You whipped your head around to face him and hissed, "Stanley!" as Wendy called out, "Now!" and hit the lever to shoot everyone out of their evacuation pods.
The sensation was similar to that of a roller coaster. Your stomach dropped to your knees as the launch pad fired you into the sky like a bullet. It took everything in you to bite back the involuntary scream building in your throat at the sudden feelings of weightlessness and sheer panic that overwhelmed your mind. The door to Bill's castle gaped open in front of you like a dark maw preparing to swallow you alive as you rapidly approached it through the air. You noticed the people around you beginning to pull their chutes and you followed suit, relishing in the comfort brought by the parachute slowing your descent.
Despite the parachute's best efforts, your landing was still a bit rough. Slamming into the cinderblock floors jostled your bones and caused an ache to spring up through your legs. You steadied yourself and unhooked your parachute, letting your eyes adjust to the dimly lit room surrounding you. As your vision became clearer, you began to make out the details of the large monument in front of you. The throne.
You grimaced as you took in the sight of Bill's massive pedestal, now close up enough that you could make out each individual townsperson and creature intertwining to create the structure. The macabre furniture piece sent a chill down your spine, which doubled when the thought entered your mind that Ford could be buried somewhere within that mound of living stone.
As if she had read your mind, Mabel shot her grappling hook at the throne and swung up to the platform it sat atop. The rescue team watched with bated breath as she disappeared past the lip of the plateau and was silent for a few seconds. Finally, you heard her call, "I found Great-uncle Ford!" Your relief was instantly dampened when she added, "He's golden! But not in the good way!" You turned to look at Stan, feeling the alarm that must be showing on your face, but Stan seemed unconcerned with his brother's state at the moment.
"Great! Grab him and let's get out of here." Stan called back up to Mabel, who looked back at the petrified Ford with an unsure expression on her features. "But how are we going to unfreeze them?" Dipper questioned, gesturing to the mountain of solidified bodies looming over your heads. "I know!" A squeaky voice cried from your left.
Everyone turned sharply at the sound. To the side of the throne was a cage suspended hundreds of feet in the air. Inside the cage, like a pet bird, was Gideon. He was dressed in a sillier outfit than usual, and his face was caked in makeup that was running down his red cheeks in beads of sweat. The small cage swayed left to right as Gideon jumped from foot to foot in a frantic, exhausted dance that caused his breath to come in labored pants. The sight may have been comical under normal conditions, but your dire circumstances made Gideon's distress extremely disconcerting.
Mabel called up to Gideon and asked what had happened to him, to which he responded by explaining that Bill had captured him and was forcing him to do "cute dances" for all eternity. While Gideon outlined his plight, Dipper used his own grappling hook to zip up onto the platform beside Mabel. "How do we undo this?" Dipper asked Gideon, gesturing back to the throne.
"Mayor Tyler! He's the load bearing human. Pull him out and the whole thing goes down." Gideon answered, clinging to the bars of the cage in determination. You watched as Dipper located the town's new mayor and moved toward him. He grabbed hold of Mayor Tyler's arm and pulled as hard as he could. For a moment, nothing happened. You started to wonder whether it would even be possible to unfreeze them, or if your friends and neighbors would be stuck this way for all eternity.
Before you could let the despair creep in too far, Dipper gave a sharp yank and Tyler pulled out of the throne, returning to his human state. You gasped in surprise and watched as bodies began tumbling down from the throne, unfreezing and becoming flesh and blood as they went. The throne collapsed completely, knocking Gideon's cage free as it went. Members of the rescue team rushed forward to meet their dazed loved ones, laughing and crying with relief. You scanned the crowd quickly, looking for one person in particular.
You finally caught sight of him across the room, bending down to hug the twins and then Fiddleford, after a quick reunion. Before you could form your next thought, your feet began striding forward on their own, gaining speed until you broke into a full run. You felt your heart leap in your chest as Ford turned his head and caught sight of you. He only had time to break into a smile and fling his arms open wide before you closed the distance and collided into him.
The force of the hit knocked the breath out of Ford momentarily, but his arms swung around your back and pulled you in closer anyways. Your arms snaked around his back in a similar fashion, squeezing him tightly and gripping his coat between your fingers. You inhaled deeply, drawing in his warm, rich scent for the first time in a week. It was enough to make you dizzy with relief. You felt Ford's cheek rest on top of your head as he breathed you in, his chest rising against your face comfortingly.
This was the embrace that you had been longing for, for thirty long years. The exact hug you had envisioned giving Ford the moment he stepped out of the portal. Those plans had been thwarted by your company at that time, and your heart had been secretly aching with regret for a month over not seizing the opportunity that night. Today, you had been given a second chance. Another picture perfect reunion during which you could hold onto Ford like you hadn't held him in decades.
This time, you didn't mind that others were around to see. You melted into Ford just as he melted into you, intoxicated by the calming scent that radiated from his soft sweater and enveloped you. The tension in his muscles seemed to ease the longer he held onto you, as if he had been longing for this hug as much as you had. No words could describe how much you had missed this feeling. It was as though you and Ford were each one half of a locket that had finally been snapped back together after being separated for too long.
Unfortunately, perfect moments couldn't last forever. What seemed like only a few seconds into your embrace, you heard Stan's voice gruffly interjecting, "Hey, good to see you too, bro. Now let's get out of here, huh?" You pulled back from Ford, immediately feeling a chill at the loss of Ford's body heat. Stan was standing next to the kids, arms crossed and face adorned with a scowl. Admittedly, hugging Ford like that in front of Stan probably wasn't your best idea, but it was far too late to rethink it and you felt too giddy for regret.
The kids quickly jumped in and asked Ford what he knew about Bill's possible weakness. The distraction helped dissipate the tension crackling in the air between you, Ford, and Stan. "I do!" Ford exclaimed, his mind quickly latching onto the task at hand. Ford asked for a writing utensil and you couldn't help but stare as he pulled his black gloves onto his large, six-fingered hands. His digits slid into the gloves' fingers with ease, and he gave them a test wiggle to make sure the gloves were fit snuggly.
You quickly turned your gaze away as you felt your cheeks beginning to flush, blinking your eyes to clear your thoughts so you could focus on the important task at hand. Ford located a can of spray paint that had been dropped by Robbie and grabbed it, exclaiming, "Perfect!" Everyone stepped back to give him space as he shook the can up and got to work painting something on the floor.
You watched Ford walk in circles, leaving trails of blue paint as he went. He began adding symbols, some of which seemed familiar. A pine tree, a shooting star, a question mark. After finishing the symbols, Ford moved to the center of the two rings and spray painted a large triangle, adding limbs and an eye. As he completed the image of Bill, you realized that you had seen this symbol before in a handful of Ford's old research notes. Confused looks were on the faces of many in the crowd surrounding Ford, and as he added the finishing touches to his painting, he explained that it was a prophecy.
"Many years ago, I found ten symbols in a cave. Some I recognized then. Some I only recognize now." You noticed Ford glance up at you on the last line. Confused, you held his gaze for a moment before glancing around the circle of symbols. Your eyes landed on a symbol between the shooting star and the pair of spectacles, and you felt a bolt of alarm as you realized what it was. Three hearts in a diagonal line, pierced together by a cupid's arrow. You glanced down at yourself as you remembered that you were still wearing the sweater that Mabel had given you last night. Just as you thought, the symbol on your chest was identical to the one painted on the ground.
Ford's gaze had left you and begun sweeping around the room as he detailed the prophecy he was speaking of. The wheel Ford had painted on the floor of the throne room had been drawn on the walls of a hidden cave long ago by the ancient inhabitants of Gravity Falls. It was left as a warning about Bill, but also as instructions on how to defeat him. Ford admitted to believing for all these years that it was just superstition, until he saw the group assembled around him now.
"Dipper, the pine tree. Mabel, the shooting star." Ford began pointing, watching as the twins took their places around the circle he had drawn. A few people in the group stepped forward, recognizing certain icons as their own. You had already made the connection between the hearts and your new sweater, but you were hesitant to move into the space. "(y/n)," Ford called, his deep voice catching your attention and causing your eyes to meet his. "The heart."
Ford's voice was soft, and you could hear an undercurrent of something you couldn't quite place running beneath his gentle tone. His gaze lingered on your face, dark eyes taking in every minute movement of your features as your brows lifted slightly and your lips parted for a soft exhale. Your eyelids fluttered as you tore your eyes from Ford and looked to the icon painted on the floor in front of you. With a deep inhale, you stepped into the square laid out for you by fate. You looked back up in time to see Ford smile to himself as he moved onto his own symbol, then offered guidance to help others find theirs.
Ford instructed everyone to hold hands, which took some convincing for a few people in the circle. You reached out without hesitation and took Mabel's hand in your left and Fiddleford's in your right. Mabel's small hand was soft and warm, and she gave your palm a determined squeeze. Fidds's hand was dry and wrinkled, but he looked over at you with a wide, gap-toothed smile as you clasped his fingers in yours. As hands locked together around the circle, you began to feel a buzzing sensation throughout your whole body. It felt as though every muscle, every artery, even every molecule in your body was trembling with barely contained power. The shock caused goosebumps to prickle along your arms and legs, the delicate hairs standing on end as if radiating the energy coursing through your veins.
You weren't the only one feeling the surge of power. Dipper called out, "Great-uncle Ford, I think it's working!" You glanced up to look around the ring of people, noticing that everyone was emanating an unearthly glow. "Yes, this is it!" Ford replied excitedly before ordering everyone else out of the room for safety. He glanced at the empty space to his left and frowned momentarily. "We just need one more person..."
Just like that, everything fell apart. Of course the final piece of the prophetic puzzle had to be Stanley, and of course he had to argue over every petty detail. He refused to join the circle and take Ford's hand until Ford thanked him for rebuilding the portal. The group could only watch on in frustration as the elder Pines twins bickered as if they were still Dipper and Mabel's age. Ford finally gave in and said "Thank you," hiding his eye roll from Stan's line of sight.
You let out a sigh of relief as Stan reached out and took Ford's hand, finally closing the circle. The power humming through your bloodstream grew to a fever pitch and the ethereal glow encasing each person burned brighter. For a brief moment, you really believed it was going to work. After these last few days living in fear and misery, you thought you were finally going to defeat Bill and escape from this waking nightmare. As quickly as it came, the power flickered like a failing fluorescent bulb, then went dark entirely.
The cause, to no one's surprise, was another spat between Stan and Ford. Ford, unable to lie down without one last parting jab, had corrected Stan's grammar just to get under his skin. It certainly worked, likely better than Ford intended. Stan yanked his hands free, breaking the chain and killing the power running through the circuit. After yelling a handful of insults, Stan lunged forward and collided with Ford, preparing for a brawl. As Ford blocked Stan's first blows, you snapped to attention and rushed towards the brothers. Dipper and Mabel raced after you, aiding you in your attempts to pull the twins apart. "Oh no, it's Bill!"
The voice echoed throughout the desolate castle, turning your blood ice cold. Everyone froze, even the feuding Pines brothers in front of you. Heads began turning towards the sound of the voice, wide eyes reflecting the image of Bill hovering in front of you all. He was significantly larger than usual, still scaled up from his fight with the Shacktron, which you assumed he must have won, judging by his presence. His massive triangular form filled almost the entire entryway to the throne room, blocking out the majority of the sunlight and casting the group into darkness.
"That's what you're all thinking, right?" Bill confirmed before ordering Gideon to continue dancing. Gideon trembled visibly and tried to step behind anyone tall enough to hide him. "Ha ha ha, ho! This is just too perfect!" Bill exclaimed, his laugh reverberating in the cavernous space above your heads. "Didn't you brainiacs know the zodiac doesn't work if you don't all hold hands?" Bill's question caused the group to look around at each other uneasily. Though fear was at the forefront of everyone's minds, you could sense an underlying frustration at Stan and Ford for throwing off the plan and leaving you all defenseless to Bill.
"And what's better, you've brought every threat to my power together in one easy-to-destroy circle!" Bill barked, shooting a wave of fire at the zodiac circle. Shocked gasps came up from the small crowd as some had to pat at their hair and clothing to extinguish the flames. You turned your attention back to Bill quickly and watched in horror as two disembodied arms snaked their way around Stan and Ford and hoisted them into the air. The men struggled, but they were ultimately helpless against Bill's power.
Suddenly, it became very apparent that you could all die here. With the thought came the sensation of an ice cold hand squeezing your heart. Your eyes dropped from the elder Pines twins and caught sight of the younger twins. You knew the only thing you could do now was try to keep the kids safe, no matter what happened next. As you ran to Dipper and Mabel, you heard a handful of the others shouting at Bill. You weren't sure exactly what they were saying, but you didn't care. The only thing in the world that mattered now was getting the kids to safety.
Just as you cleared the last few steps between you and your niece and nephew, you heard Wendy shout, "We're not scared of you!" There was a split second of silence as Bill turned to face the group, his pupil dilating like that of a predator catching sight of its prey. You seized that brief moment and threw your arms around the twins' shoulders, preparing to wrap them tight and pull them somewhere, anywhere, that might be far enough away to give them a chance to survive. Before you could, Bill's voice resounded through the hollow castle, eerily calm, "Oh, but you should be." Then everything went dark.
It could have been hours, days, weeks, even years until you finally came to. Your sense of time was completely lost as you floated through an infinite expanse of inky black. Then your floating began to feel a bit more like falling. Without warning, your body jolted you awake, the sensation similar to that of falling in a dream. As your consciousness returned and your eyelids snapped open, you were alarmed to find that you were hurtling towards the floor of Bill's castle.
Your fall was short, but your aging body didn't take kindly to dropping onto hard stone. An involuntary "Oof!" was expelled from your body as the wind was knocked from your lungs. Your knees and wrists burned where they had hit the ground, only semi-breaking your fall. Before you could catch your breath enough to stand, you heard a familiar deep voice call, "(y/n)!" followed by a much higher tone exclaiming, "Auntie (y/n)!"
Within seconds, your body was wrapped up by a pair of small, sweater-clad arms. You looked up, squinting through the pain of your fall, to see Mabel kneeling on the ground with you and clasping you tightly. Beyond Mabel was a tall figure striding toward you. Your eyes didn't have time to adjust to make out whether it was Stan or Ford before the top of the castle suddenly cracked open.
You and Mabel both looked up in alarm and watched as the ceiling and walls of Bill's fortress were pulled, block by block, into the rift in the sky above you. Mabel's grip on you tightened as the floor beneath your bodies also began to give way. You wrapped your arm's around Mabel's small frame in an attempt to protect her when the bricks you were perched on were sucked back into the chaos dimension.
Luckily, this time you didn't fall fast. Mabel giggled as you both floated gently down to the forest floor thousands of feet beneath you, miraculously avoiding tree limbs as you went. It was as though the universe decided to give you one lucky break as it gently righted itself, sending every last trace of Weirdmaggedon back to where it belonged. The dark, cloudy sky cleared and birds began to sing in the trees as the sun shined down for the first time in what felt like an eternity. The sight of an ordinary blue sky was such a relief that it almost moved you to tears.
Before you could get caught up in the moment, you heard quick footsteps advancing in your direction. "Aunt (y/n)! You're okay!" Dipper's voice rang out from behind you. As you turned your head to see, Dipper reached you and Mabel and threw his arms around you for a hug. You smiled, relieved, as you tucked a twin under each arm and squeezed them tight. You heard another set of footsteps coming from the direction Dipper had appeared from, and looked up to meet Ford's eyes.
After decades of knowing and loving the elder Pines twins, telling them apart had become second nature. Ford's eyes were the slightest bit darker than Stan's, moodier and less reflective. There was a softness and vulnerability in them that you could always catch, even when he tried to guard it. Now that the twins had aged, there were even more noticeable differences between the two. Ford's lips were a touch fuller, their definition not melted away from decades of toothy grins like Stan's had. But Ford's frown lines were ever so slightly deeper, some marred by the minute scars that littered his skin. You had thought for the last month that even with the addition of those little white lines, Ford was beautiful.
Seeing him walk up to you now, you were even more convinced of it. The sight of those warm eyes made your heart leap for the first time in all the weeks you had spent terrified that he was dead. Even through your joy, you could see there was a sadness there, hanging low and heavy like a storm cloud. That's when you noticed that Ford was wearing a suit adorned with a familiar red string tie. Stan's tie.
A sense of foreboding washed over you like a cold wave breaking a rocky shore. The deep set frown on Ford's face as he walked up to you did nothing to ease your concern. You felt your relief at seeing Ford again evaporate into the newly blue sky, and you released your hold on Dipper and Mabel so you could stand fully. "Ford?" You breathed out, the worry in your voice causing him to wince. "Wait, we have to go find Grunkle Stan!" Mabel exclaimed before Ford could respond to you, jumping up and loping through the woods in her search.
Dipper and Ford shared a tense look before following slowly behind Mabel. You joined them silently, watching as Mabel found Stan's fez on the ground and dusted it off with care and respect before continuing her pursuit. The dense trees finally opened into a small clearing, at the center of which was Stan. He was sitting on his knees, blinking confusedly, and dressed in Ford's clothes. Mabel spotted him and bounded over to him, exclaiming, "Grunkle Stan, you did it!" as she placed his fez back on his head.
There was a moment of silence before Stan responded, "Oh, uh, hey there... kiddo. What's your name?" The question was as shocking to you as a slap in the face, and your head snapped to look at Ford questioningly. He met your gaze, sadly and sheepishly, but didn't offer any explanation other than a shake of his head. Your mouth dropped open slightly in fearful understanding and you reached a hand up to cover it as you turned back to face Stan.
Stan had the strangest expression on his face. There was confusion there, maybe even concern, but there was something deeper than that. His eyes didn't have their usual mischievous sparkle, instead there was a glimmer of peace. It looked as though all the pain had been washed from Stan's face, leaving behind a calm that hadn't been there in decades. Despite his familiar face, that contentment and ease made him nearly unrecognizable. Something must have gone very, very wrong.
You felt tears start to prick at your eyes as you watched Mabel trying to talk to Stan. Then, you felt a warmth wrap around the hand that still hung loosely at your side. You looked down to find that Ford had slid his hand into yours and interlaced your five fingers with his six. His large hand gave yours a comforting squeeze, his thumb drawing delicate circles into your skin. The gesture was enough to cause a tear to slip from your eye, and you hastily wiped it away as Mabel became more upset and had to be pulled away by Dipper.
"We had to erase his mind to defeat Bill. It's all gone. Stan has no idea, but he did it. He saved the world." Ford finally spoke, his attention on Mabel, who was staring at Stan through teary eyes. You saw Ford's gaze move to Stan, and he gave your hand one last squeeze before releasing his grip and stepping towards his brother. "He saved me." Ford said to himself, looking down at Stan, whose identical face was turned up to meet his. Ford knelt down in front of Stan, coming face to face with his twin, who looked more confused than ever. "You're our hero, Stanley." Ford's voice cracked slightly with emotion, and he leaned forward to pull his brother into a tight hug.
At this point, Mabel was full-on crying while Dipper kept an arm around her. You wiped away a few more tears of your own before kneeling to wrap your arms around the twins. You felt them both lean back into your embrace, Mabel's small shoulders shaking with her sobs. You felt the urge to cry building up inside of you, but you were too stunned to release the emotion.
Stan was gone. They had erased his mind to defeat Bill, and it had worked. You hadn't been there to see it. Hadn't been able to weigh in on the decision, hadn't been there to talk Stan out of it, hadn't even been able to say goodbye. Just like that, it was over. A numbness began to creep up through your body.
Time seemed to slow for you while everyone else moved at a normal pace. You watched as Ford helped Stan to his feet and exchanged clothes with him, their movements almost a blur in your state of shock. The kids stood and sadly began the journey back to the Shack, Mabel taking Stan's hand and leading the way. You were able to slowly stand from your kneeling position, but you couldn't seem to get your feet to do what you wanted them to. One leg shuffled forward slowly, then the other, each feeling heavier than a cinderblock.
You were vaguely aware of a hand coming to rest on the small of your back. You assumed it was Ford, but it didn't seem to matter much to you at that moment. Your feet moved forward one at a time, mechanically, as Ford guided you through the woods in your daze. The trees around you finally faded away to reveal the Shack, back where it had been before the events of the day.
Hollow thuds sounded as Dipper and Mabel leapt up to the porch and pushed opened the door. The inside of the Shack was trashed, but everyone filed inside anyways, Stan making a remark about what a nice place the kids had here. He made his way into the living room and sat in his chair, a puff of dust rising up out of the cushion as he did so. You got as far as the doorway to the living room and sank down to sit on the step there.
You watched, listening but not comprehending, as Mabel became determined to jog Stan's memory despite Ford's insistence that it was impossible. She tore through the room, a blur of hot pink, looking for something to aid her. Mabel's eyes finally landed on her scrapbook and she scooped it up off of the floor and brought it to Stan, eagerly flipping through the pages and explaining each picture. You could tell from Ford's hunched stance that he thought Mabel's efforts were futile, and the thought caused you to sink inside of yourself a little more.
A familiar snorting sound drew your attention back to Stan's recliner. Waddles had made his way over to the group and was snuffling around Stan's shoes as Dipper was trying to help Stan remember the events in the scrapbook photos. "I'm sorry, I don't know what this is or who you are or- Gah! Quit it, Waddles! I'm trying to remember my life story!" Your gaze flew up to Stan's face, eyes wide as your brain registered what he had just said. The gasp that had come from Dipper let you know that you weren't the only one who had heard Stan.
"What did you say?" Dipper asked, exchanging a surprised glance with his sister. "I said, get Waddles off of me!" Stan grunted, trying to hold the pig at arm's length. "It's working! Keep reading!" Ford exclaimed, giddy with excitement. You felt a glimmer of hope rush through your body, clearing away the fog of shock and allowing you to get to your feet and move closer to the rest of the group. As you did, Ford turned to look at you, a broad smile on his face. He reached out and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side.
The touch caused a blush to break out on your cheeks, and you raised your eyebrows at Ford in surprise. He looked back at you, seeming as if he was also a bit surprised by himself. His grip on your waist faltered a bit, like the initial movement had been involuntary, but then he decidedly and unashamedly drew you closer. The warmth of his body knocked the rest of the numbness from your limbs, and you felt yourself lean into Ford's side.
The two of you watched as Mabel read her journal entries to Stan, who began to seem more like himself with each passing second. Before you knew it, Stan was laughing along to Mabel's jokes and even pointing to pictures on the pages while telling what he remembered about each one. One of the pictures was of you and Mabel from the start of the summer, and you remembered the day it was taken extremely fondly.
In the picture, you were both wearing your old formal dresses that you had pushed to the back of your closet many decades before. Your dress was a little tight on you, but Mabel was practically swimming in the one she had picked out. Mabel had also done both of your makeup to the best of her abilities, leaving you with bright coral lipstick and blue eyeshadow that practically jumped out of the image. That had been the first day that you felt you and Mabel had really gotten a chance to bond, spending hours going through your closet and makeup stash and playing dress up as if you had been best friends for years.
Stan studied the image for a moment, then turned back to look at you with a fond smile on his face. Your expression reflected his, and you reached your arm out to rest your hand on his shoulder. "There you are, sweetcheeks." Stan said with a grin, his gaze roaming your face as if he hadn't seen it in years. You felt his warm, calloused skin as he reached a hand up to lay on top of yours. "Hi honey." You breathed, interlacing your fingers with Stan's even as you heard Dipper mutter "Ewww," under his breath.
As you looked down at Stan, you were grateful that the angle he was looking from made it impossible for him to see Ford's arm draped over your hips. It didn't go unnoticed by you when Ford's six fingers dug a little deeper into your soft flesh as you interacted with Stan, a subtle play for dominance that caused a flush to creep up your neck. It seemed that after everything you had all been through in the last week, Ford had decided he was no longer content with sharing you.
You were grateful to have both men back in your life again after another terrible ordeal had finally ended, but this moment of peace couldn't last forever. A big decision would have to be made, and you didn't know that both of your relationships with the Pines twins would survive it. All was finally right with your world... but clearly, that would bring a new set of challenges. You tried to push the thought out of your mind and enjoy this little sliver of sunshine for as long as you could. As Stan turned back to Mabel's photo album, you felt yourself lean ever so slightly further into Ford's side. Unbeknownst to you, a cosmic countdown had begun to tick slowly.
September 5th, 2012.
The Big, Bad Something.
Notes:
be honest, could you tell that i completely forgot that i would have to add weirdmaggedon to this fic and had to scramble to write this chapter before i could get to the good stuff? actually, don't answer that. hope you enjoyed it anyways, and stay tuned for chapter 4!
IridescentStars on Chapter 1 Mon 11 Mar 2019 05:49AM UTC
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stanfordpines (elleisfor) on Chapter 1 Mon 11 Mar 2019 01:01PM UTC
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stanfordpines (elleisfor) on Chapter 1 Wed 27 Mar 2019 02:27AM UTC
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Takemetowonderland420 on Chapter 1 Sun 07 Apr 2019 11:47PM UTC
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stanfordpines (elleisfor) on Chapter 1 Tue 09 Apr 2019 08:03PM UTC
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Snow_Queen08 on Chapter 1 Mon 27 May 2019 11:48PM UTC
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tranquilatlast on Chapter 1 Fri 14 Jun 2019 11:54AM UTC
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Account Deleted on Chapter 1 Sun 10 May 2020 03:05PM UTC
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HatPatriarchy on Chapter 2 Mon 11 Apr 2022 03:52AM UTC
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stanfordpines (elleisfor) on Chapter 2 Mon 11 Apr 2022 02:15PM UTC
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kat (Guest) on Chapter 2 Wed 01 Jun 2022 11:25PM UTC
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Kalokairi_Barbie on Chapter 3 Tue 24 Jun 2025 05:20PM UTC
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stanfordpines (elleisfor) on Chapter 3 Fri 11 Jul 2025 09:29PM UTC
Last Edited Fri 11 Jul 2025 09:29PM UTC
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gigibite75 on Chapter 3 Thu 26 Jun 2025 07:21AM UTC
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stanfordpines (elleisfor) on Chapter 3 Fri 11 Jul 2025 09:30PM UTC
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