Chapter Text
Cold. That was the first thing Dipper felt – which was a rarity for him as he was almost always sweating. Shaking his head, he looked up and immediately froze. This was not right, this was not right at all, because there was snow on the ground.
No, no, it was fine. They had a time machine, they could just go back and fix everything, all he had to do was get Mabel and convince her that - oh no.
Dipper looked around frantically, searching desperately for his sister. But she was nowhere to be seen.
“No, no, no, no…MABEL!”
Scrambling to his feet, Dipper searched frantically for any sign of his sister, but aside from the trench he had made in the snow, there was no sign of any other creature around. Oh gosh, this was not good…
Taking a deep breath, Dipper tried to reason it out. She couldn’t be that far. Unless she had run off. He quickly shook his head; Mabel wouldn’t do that. But they had been arguing over his perfect day with Wendy when…something happened. A tussle with the time machine and now she was nowhere to be found and he was here, in the snow. Only when the reality settled in, did he realize he was freezing.
Casting another desperate look around the woods, Dipper rubbed his arms, trying to figure out where in the world he was. Wait…that “w” shaped tree looked familiar. It was in the clearing where the carnival was being held! Which meant the Mystery Shack was…spotting the almost hidden path, Dipper sighed a breath of relief. He wasn’t lost.
Vowing to come back and make a more thorough search for Mabel once he found Grunkle Stan and maybe some warmer clothes, Dipper made his way through the snow as quickly as he could, but his teeth were already chattering like crazy.
As he walked, Dipper felt himself warming up, if only slightly, though every time the wind blew, he would start shivering again. Gosh, he sure hoped Mabel wasn’t out alone in this cold too. Though her sweater might keep her a little warmer, unlike his vest, which wasn’t doing much to conserve warmth.
After what seemed like ages, Dipper spotted a familiar clearing and he raced forward, his cold limbs stumbling in the snow as he ran. But as he entered the clearing, he slid to a stop.
The shack in front of him was familiar all right, it had the same build as the one he knew, the same triangle windows and steep roof, but there was one glaring difference. There was no Mystery Shack perched on the roof, no signs pointing to the gift shop. In fact, the only sign he saw was a blatant “no trespassing” sign.
“G-great…” he muttered to himself. It seems he was stuck in some time before Stan had turned his house into a tourist trap.
A vicious gust of wind slammed into Dipper’s back, resulting in him shivering like crazy. Oh well, Mystery Shack or no, he needed to get warm. And surely Stan would help him out, right? He couldn’t be that heartless.
Taking a deep breath – which only made him feel colder – Dipper made his way to the front door and steeled himself before knocking. Only after his hand hit the wood did he realize he hadn’t come up with a cover story as to why in the world he was out in the woods all alone.
The door swung open and before Dipper could even process what was happening, he was looking down the sights of a crossbow.
“Have you come to steal my eyes?!?”
For a second, all Dipper could do was stare at the man in front of him. Bloodshot eyes, messy hair, an unkempt shirt, a cleft chin- wait, that wasn’t right…
“S-Stan?”
The man, whose eyes had been wide with paranoia a second before, narrowed to slits. “Who are you and how do you know that name?”
“I uh, you aren’t, um-" Dipper fumbled with his words, not even knowing where to start. Because this was not what he had been expecting at all. Maybe some suspicion, yes, but not a man who looked like he was about to lose his mind. Could this really be a younger Stan? It looked like he could be but something didn’t quite seem-
“Wait…six fingers?!?” Dipper blurted it out before he could even think, his eyes transfixed on the man’s fingers. Could it…could it really be…? “You-you’re the author?!?”
Looking up at Stan-maybe-not-really-Stan, Dipper gawked. Could he really be meeting the author of the journals?!?
For a moment, the author just looked at him, confusion fluttering in his eyes, but then they narrowed again. “I don’t know who you are or what you are talking about but you need to go. Now.”
The excitement from a moment ago deflated and Dipper looked at the snowy landscape behind him, then back at the stranger, who he was still convinced couldn’t possibly be his great uncle or, if he was something must have happened because this man was nothing like Stan. “But, but, I-"
“Go on!” With a shooing motion, the author made to close the door but Dipper quickly grabbed it.
“Wait! I-I don’t know, I don’t have a place to, I…” Words failed as Dipper tried to figure out what to say that wouldn’t completely ruin the timeline while also convincing his hero to not throw him out into the cold.
Once again, the man narrowed his eyes, looking about a second away from slamming the door shut on Dipper’s fingers. But then a gust of wind blew against the house, chilling Dipper to the bone as he pulled his hand back to hug himself, trying to conserve warmth.
A moment later the door opened all the way, but before Dipper could react, a bright light was shining into one eye, then the other.
“Agh, wha-?” Blinking his eyes, Dipper tried to clear the spots away.
“You can come in to call your parents and warm up, but that’s it.” Stan-not-Stan waved him inside and despite still being confused out of his mind, Dipper stepped inside, rubbing his arms to try and warm up a little. However, the interior wasn’t entirely warm either, as if the heater only came on once a day and the rest of the time the house was just slowly getting colder. It was still significantly better than outside though.
The decoration on the other hand, was terrible. Dipper thought the Mystery Shack was bad, but this was worse. There was somewhat of an organized chaos in the museum, but this? This was utter chaos. Papers were littered all over the floor, random specimens were lining the shelves. Dust floated in the air. It looked like the place hadn’t had a good cleaning in months…
A blanket being shoved close to his face interrupted Dipper’s view of the room, and all thoughts of the mess dissipated as he quickly grabbed the strange smelling fabric and wrapped it around his arms. If it had been any other circumstance, he wouldn’t have willingly touched something that smelled so unpleasant, but right now anything to help him warm up was welcome.
“The phone is just over here.” The author was looking at Dipper with narrowed eyes, which was a little unsettling. Then again almost everything about this was unsettling.
“Oh…phone…right…uh…” Dipper played with the tassels on the blanket, because he could totally call his parents but they wouldn’t pick up. Heck he wasn’t even sure how old they would be right now.
“This way.” There was a harsh, almost growl-like tone in Not-Stan’s voice, but as Dipper hesitantly followed him, he couldn’t help but think his behavior – and how he kept glancing at Dipper – was more reminiscent of someone that was more anxious than aggressive.
They reached the phone, but as Dipper picked it up, he looked at the man and then at the dial.
“Well?”
“Ummm…I don’t remember their number…” A lie, but at the moment, Dipper didn’t have any better ideas.
Eyes narrowed even more, then the author ran a hand over his eyes. “Alright, tell me why you are really here? Were you sent by someone? How did you know my br-Stan’s name?”
Dipper opened his mouth, only to close it again. He had no clue what to say or do and he found his legs starting to pace as he tried to figure out the answer. “I-I don’t know how to…agh, I mean…no I wasn’t sent by anyone, it was all an accident with my sister, and about Stan…” Pausing, Dipper looked at him, needing to know. “How do you know Stan?”
“That is none of your business!”
Dipper stumbled back at the outburst. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t tell this man how he knew Stan without possible disrupting the timeline, but he didn’t really have any good alternatives.
A sigh escaped the author, and despite still giving Dipper a wary look, he also took a step back and made a placating gesture with his hands. “Alright, alright…how about…what’s your name?”
Well at least that was one question he could answer. “Dipper. And you are…?”
The man quirked an eye at his name, but seemed to shrug it off. “Stanford Pines.”
“What? But, but-” Dipper blurted out before he could even think. There was no way this was Stan, but…he had the same name and he looked like Stan too. What was happening? “I…how are you…you said Stan, but, you’re not Stan and…” Dipper didn’t even realize he was pacing until a foot slammed down on the floor in front of him, making him skid to a halt.
“That’s it, you need to tell me right now. How do you know my brother?”
“Wait…brother…?” Dipper stared at Stanford-but-not-the-grunkle-Stanford-he-knew, did… “You…Stan…he’s…your twin?”
A small frown grew on Stanford’s face and he answered in a strained voice. “Yes…but you still haven’t told me how you know Stan.”
“I…” Dipper took a step forward, his feet ready to pace again, but an arm blocked his way.
“Tell me. Now.”
“I want to but it could mess up the timeline and…oh no I didn’t mean, uh, I-"
Stanford’s eyebrows shot up and he straightened up a little. “Timeline?”
“Nothing, it’s nothing I uh…agh!” Pressing his hands over his eyes, Dipper tried to think of something, anything to clear up that he wasn’t a danger but also not…royally mess something up by saying anything about the future.
“You know my brother from another time then?”
Hands dropping to his sides, Dipper pulled the blanket – which was pretty much falling off of him from all the pacing – around his shoulders again before shrugging. “Yeah…but I don’t want to-"
Stanford held up a hand. “You don’t want to mess with the timeline.”
Dipper nodded uncomfortably, not really sure what else to say. Then Stanford looked at him, suspicion still clouding his gaze.
“We need to get you back. I assume you have a time machine of a sort?”
“Yes…and no…I looked for it but…Mabel! She, she’s still out there! We gotta look for her, and I bet she has the time machine since I couldn’t find it.” As he spoke, Dipper looked down at his shorts and vest combo, and frowned. It worked well for the summer, but he needed about five more layers for all the snow that was outside. “I don’t suppose you have any clothes I could borrow?”
A thoughtful frown grew on Stanford’s face. “I might be able to find something that could work.”
Snip, snip. Ford tried not to think about how he was destroying his clothes for an absolute stranger – not that he ever wore these, they had been buried in the bottom of his sock drawer, but still. Everything about this encounter with the kid – Dipper - was suspicious and he did not trust suspicious. As far as he knew, this could be Bill trying to distract him, and he couldn’t afford to let anything distract him. But then again, right now he was just waiting, biding his time hoping that Stan would actually come.
Looking up, he saw Dipper watching him, his eyes transfixed on his hands. Old insecurities came to the surface of his mind. On any other day he could brush them aside with some ease, but in his current mental state that was pretty much impossible.
“Here, these should work for a short period of time.” Shoving the makeshift legwarmers at the kid, Ford stood up and hid his hands in his coat pockets. Shaking his head, he tried to clear away the insecurities, and the voices he could swear he was hearing. Weirdo. Idiot. Looser. The words only seemed to grow louder the more he tried to ignore them. Maybe some fresh air would do him some good. The cold might at least help wake him up. It had been what, an hour since his last cup of coffee? And he was starting to feel it. Later, he could deal with that later. First, get this kid out of here, then he could focus on keeping his eyes open so Bill couldn’t continue his schemes.
“Yeah, this is fashionable…”
Dipper’s words interrupted Ford’s thoughts and he glanced at the boy, who looked almost amusing with his shorts and three pairs of socks turned into legwarmers.
“No one will be out in this weather. I think I have a spare coat you can put on to keep your arms warm.” Besides, there are weirder looking things in this town. Ford didn’t voice that thought, and as soon as it crossed his mind, he realized he might be letting down his guard once again. That wouldn’t do.
Walking to the coat closet – which held more notes and inventions than coats – Ford rummaged through until he found the smallest coat he owned, all while trying to keep an eye on Dipper. Trust Bill to send a kid in to act all innocent only to jump on him the second Ford turned a blind eye.
“Here, it will be big, but better than nothing.”
Big was an understatement. Ford had to help the kid roll up the sleeves, which kept swallowing his hands, and it was almost dragging on the floor - in the snow it would most definitely get wet. But there wasn’t much he could do about that, it’s not like he had any safety pins lying around. Or if he did, he didn’t know where they would be. The last few weeks had been comprised of trying to hide his journals and not totally lose his sanity. Not much time to take note of insignificant things like safety pins.
“That will have to do. Now, come on, let’s find your time machine.”
“And my sister!” Dipper interjected, and Ford saw a shadow of…something cross the kid’s face. But he brushed it off, no time to dwell on that. The sooner they found the machine and the girl, the better.
“Right, of course, and your sister.”
Opening the door, Ford pulled his coat tighter around him and stepped out into the icy Oregon wind.
Everything was dark for a moment, then a flash of light burned into Mabel’s eyes. Concrete scraped her knees and before she could even tell what the heck was going on, a loud shrieking wailed just in time for her to scream and roll out of the way as a car skidded past her.
Eyes wide, Mabel just stared at the shops in front of her, but she wasn’t really taking any of it in. Her heart was racing, her knees throbbing, and her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. But in the back of her mind something didn’t seem quite right. Maybe it was the storefronts that look a little dated, or maybe it was the fact that she was starting to shiver a little despite it being summer.
“Kid, you okay?”
That voice, Mabel knew that voice… And if Grunkle Stan was here then everything had to be oka-
The thought died in her mind as she looked up and caught sight of the man in front of her. He wasn’t the old man she had gone fishing with, or who made her laugh almost as much as Dipper. No, he was young. His hair was brown, his clothes dirty – even moreso than they were before laundry day at the Shack – and there were tired bags under his eyes. But his eyes…despite the confusion and concern lining them, somehow, she just knew they were her grunkle’s eyes.
A million questions started piling up in Mabel’s mind. Why was Stan so young? Why was she in the middle of the road in a strange town? Where was Dipper? Oh gosh…the fight. She had been so determined to save Waddles from Pacifica, and they had fought and - the time machine!
Mabel quickly looked around, eyes scanning desperately until she saw it, broken and scattered on the gravel road.
“No!” Scrambling forward, Mabel gently picked up each piece of the busted device. “No, no, no…” This was beyond a simple fix, this was…it was unfixable. Her hands started shaking, and she lowered the machine parts carefully to the ground, scared of inflicting anymore damage on it. But that didn’t stop the tightening of her chest, or the quickening of her breath as anxiety overwhelmed her.
“Hey, kid…”
A hand hesitantly touched her shoulder and Mabel didn’t even care that it wasn’t the Stan she knew. She flung her arms around him and clung tight to him, a sob escaping her mouth, which then turned into a blubber of breathless gasps as tears slid down her face.
“Uh…it’s…it’s okay kiddo…”
A hand patted her back, and Mabel buried her face Stan’s jacket, not even caring that it smelled worse than Dipper after a week of avoiding a shower.
Stan had no clue what he was doing. One minute, he had been driving, and the next thing he knew, a kid had just appeared out of nowhere right in the middle of the road. Thankfully he had managed to avoid hitting the girl, but now she was clinging to him like he wasn’t a grifter trying to make ends meat by whatever means possible. But the kid was clearly going through something and he knew all too well what it was like to feel alone and scared, so he let her cry, not quite sure what to do but allowing her to hug him as long as she needed.
Minutes passed and the kid’s sobs died down and her grip on his jacket eased until she was simply resting her head on his chest, as if he was someone she trusted despite being an absolute stranger. Man, who had hurt this kid?
“Uh…you doing okay now?”
A quiet sniffle, then she nodded against his chest.
“So uh…what’s your name kiddo?” There were other questions he could ask for sure, but he figured starting with the basics was the best route. And names were good. He wasn’t just gonna keep calling her kid – even if she was still a child, one far too young to be on her own.
“M-Mabel.”
“That’s a nice name…I’m Stan.” Ironically, he actually was actually Stan in this town. He had figured he was far enough away from New Jersey that he could actually go by his real name – that and trying to remember fake names got kind of tiring after a while. Especially when he had to keep changing it every few months.
Mabel opened her mouth but closed it again, simply resting her head on his chest again. Geeze, and he thought that incident with the monkeys in Columbia was strange. This was just…Stan shook his head, trying not to think about it too much. If the kid was in trouble, he’d do what he could to help her.
“So, where you from?”
Once again, she opened her mouth, only to close it, biting her lip. “California…where…what town is this?”
Crap, that wasn’t good. How in the world had she gotten to an entirely different state? “This is Dead End Flats, in New Mexico. You on vacation with your family or something?”
At that, Mabel straightened up a little and looked around, as if searching for something. “I…I was visiting my great- uh…family with my brother but…” She shut her mouth again, looking around again before her shoulders dropped. “I don’t see him anywhere…”
“Hey, I’m sure he’s around here somewhere, we’ll find him. What’s his name?” Stan didn’t know for sure if he would be able to find another kid – maybe at the police station. Just that thought sent an unpleasant shudder down his spine, but he tried to push it away. He didn’t want to quash any hope Mabel might have and if he had to go to the police to help her? So be it.
“Dipper…”
Well that was the strangest name Stan had ever heard
“…he looks kind of like me, s-same hair, and e-eyes. We’re twins…”
Twins…a weight grew in Stan’s chest at the mere mention of the word. For a moment he was back in New Jersey, looking up at a window whose curtains had been drawn. No one should lose their twin… “You want to look for him? I uh…I can help you search for a little while at least.” Stan tried not to think about the meeting he had later that evening, one he had been trying to avoid. Mainly because he didn’t have the money he owed. Maybe he could manage to buy himself a few more days until he could either find some or, preferably, leave the town and never come back.
Mabel nodded, but then she looked at the concrete again, at the…thing that had sent her crying a few moments ago. She scooped it up and looked at Stan. “Can I put this in your car f-for safe keeping?”
Stan glanced at what appeared to be a broken tape measure. Why the heck that needed safe keeping, he didn’t know, but he nodded. “Sure thing kiddo.” Getting to his feet, he walked over and opened the door, watching as she placed it on the floor, hidden a bit by some of his…belongings, though most of it was just trash. After locking the door, he froze as a hand grabbed his.
Looking down at Mabel, he tried for a smile, which she returned. Then he let her lead him down the sidewalk, despite the worry growing in his gut. He didn’t have time for this…and he really didn’t want any of Rico’s gang to see him walking with a little kid. There was no telling what they might do. And yet, he knew he couldn’t just leave her, not when she was alone and scared. Besides, helping her out wouldn’t take too long and soon she’d be back with her brother and family, right?