Chapter Text
It was the tiwns second summer in Gravity Falls.
Everything has been good, or so it seems.
Dipper hasn't been himself lately, he was acting strange, he snapped at everyone, he went out to the woods all the time, any time Ford tried to asked him what was wrong he would make excuse and leave, he separated himself from everyone.
Ford was out talking to McGucket about something, Soos took his family out and Stan was lounging in front of the TV in the Shack’s living room, rising the volume to try and ignore the arguing, Spoiler it wasn't working.
With a grunt, Stan stood from his and chair and walked into the kitchen.
"What's going on?" He asked.
“Grunkle Stan,” Dipper was the first to reply. “Tell Mabel that she can’t back out something we’ve had planned for weeks the day of! That’s ridiculous!”
“Grunkle Stan!” Mabel cut in, gesturing wildly so that the sleeves of her sweater flopped over her hands. “Tell Dipper that there are some things more important than his stupid hunting for fairy's or whatever! We can just reschedule!”
“Hey! We agreed to do this together Great-Uncle Ford wasn't going because you wanted it to be us.” Dipper snapped.
"It was a mistake, I never should have suggested it!" Mabel yelled.
Stan frozn in shock.
"Then I should have told Great-Uncle Ford I didn't want you to go, Bill was right after all, you go to every guy you see not caring about anyone else! How do you think I got tricked into a deal?" Dipper snapped.
Mabel gasped and Stan stared at Dipper. Dipper never talked about Bill EVER.
Mabel ran out of the kitchen crying.
Dipper ran out to the woods.
Stan stood there for a moment, shocked.
What did he just get himself into?
Stan turned and exited the kitchen, reluctantly heading up the attic stairs to track down his wayward niece. He wanted to go after Dipper, but he decided to give him his space.
If Dipper was anything like his Great-Uncle (and, Stan knew without a doubt that he was), he’d need some time to regather his thoughts before he was ready to talk to anyone.
The real sense of something being off started to sink in later in the day when, 7 p.m. rolled around, Dipper still hadn’t returned to the Shack.
Heavy clouds rolled in, casting a dark shadow over the golden hue of the sunset beginning to spill in through the wide kitchen window, and Stan felt his stomach drop slightly at the sight.
Mabel had gone to spend time with her friends, after Stan having talked her down from her frustration and insisting that she go out.
“That kid will live one day without jumping headlong into some dumb mystery quest.” he’d joked.
“Okay,” Mabel had finally agreed, slinging her bag over her shoulder and turning to face Stan with one hand on the doorknob. “I’m going but...Watch out for Dipper."
“Sure thing, Pumpkin.” Stan had assured,
That had been nearly 10 hours ago, and Stan was more than a little unsettled by the fact that Dipper hadn’t returned back home yet.
Heh, home. Stan mentally berated himself for the automatic association his brain had placed upon the Shack. It wasn’t necessarily the kids’ ‘home’, after all.
(Dipper would have been back by now if he truly considered it so, anyway).
“Stanley?” Stan nearly groaned out loud as the sound of Ford rising from the depths of his basement laboratory (he came back 4 hours ago) filtered up into the kitchen to where he was seated at the table, casting anxious glances out the window in anticipation of their great-nephew’s return. “Where are the children?”
“Mabel’s out with some friends.” Stan grunted, not bothering to turn and face his brother’s entrance.
“Ah,” Ford replied, opening the fridge and grabbing a pit cola.
“And Dipper?” Ford asked, cracking his soda open.
Stan felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle, though he attempted valiantly to remain completely stoick where he was sat, avoiding Ford’s gaze pointedly. “Dunno,” he finally replied with an indifferent shrug. “Wandered off into the woods a couple hours ago to do his nerd thing. Haven’t seen him since.” If his voice shook a little as he answered, neither of them mentioned it.
Ford took a seat across from Stan to lean both elbows on the table before replying, slowly, “Stanley...Where’s Dipper?”
Stan threw his hands up, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms to face the window sullenly.
“I don’t know, okay?” He snapped, unable to stop his tone from coming off as a bit defensive. “He and Mabel got into argument, earlier. Mabel went to her friend’s and I haven’t seen the kid since. Happy?”
Ford frowned, shrinking back slightly into his seat and muling the offered information over silently.
“Stanley, if he’s alone…”
He didn’t have to finish the sentence to get the message across. They both knew well and understood that bitter, miserable self-deprecation one went through after having gotten into it with their twin. Not to mention that Dipper was only 13 in the woods alone, in a town full of monsters.
Not to mention that Dipper hasn't been his self here lately.
Ford had his suspensions about something but he hopes he is wrong.
“You say you don’t know where he went?” Ford questioned, when Stan didn’t reply, his expression changed entirely serious.
“Nah,” Stan answered, sitting up somewhat straighter in his seat and pegging his own twin with a matching sober expression. “Haven’t seen him since 9.” he hesitated, wincing slightly. “You don’t think…”
“I think that we need to find Dipper as quickly as possible.” Ford interrupted, standing and scooting his chair back across the kitchen floor with a grating squeak. “For all our sakes.”
“Split up?” Stan questioned, rising from his own chair himself with a sage nod.
“Split up.” Ford agreed. “I’ll take the woods. You--”
“I’ll cover the rest.” Stanley agreed without hesitation, extending an arm to tap lightly at his twin’s shoulder. “Don’t forget, Sixer, I know this town better than you do.”
Ford chuckled, rubbing at his arm with a rueful expression. “We’ll see. Call me if you find him?”
“Let’s hope the kid hasn’t done anything too stupid. He’s…”
“A lot like us.” Ford finished for him, his expression darkening into something much more serious. Thunder cracked outside the Shack, and rain began to steadily beat against the window frame. “We’ll see. Good luck, Stanley.”
Stanley been searching for about two and a half hours, now, calling Dipper’s name desperately into every back-alley, dusty arcade and bowling alley after the kid’s usual haunts had been scoured from front to back. Despite the assistance of many of the locals, Dipper’s whereabouts had remained a mystery, something which had set Stan increasingly on edge the more he continued to search for his wayward great-nephew.
He called Mabel and suggested she should spend the night at her friend's house for a few days.
She agreed, he hated to lie to her.
It was with entire desperation, therefore, that Stan had found himself searching the back corners of town, nearest to the bus stop, and poked his head into the pawn shop and barber on the street corners there, hell he even checked the laundromat at the edge of town.
He hadn’t frequented the establishment, himself. The Shack had its own worn-down washer and dryer set that had done the job of cleaning his suits and underwear well enough for his liking.
Another hour went by and Dipper was still not found.
He was about to met up with Ford when he got a call.
"You find him?" Stan asked.
"You need to come back to the Shack now Stanley."
"What happened?" Stan asked starting to panic.
"It's bad." Ford said and hung up.