#(and may be feeling a thing or two with a little less on the mind)

[citricacidprince]

I was looking at your relativity falls au and I was thinking since Ford in the original series takes off Stan’s hat to show his hair, kinda revealing he is Ford, what if in relativity falls Ford takes the glasses off of Stan and puts them on and that is kinda of the moment

Also I really want more protective! Relativity falls Ford, I want to watch that child go feral and start biting people <3

Hiiiii!!! Sorry it took a super long time to reply to this I just,, this possessed me so much I may or may not have written, uh, 7400 words based on this lol (also a drawing but it’s hidden in the writing haha)

There sadly isn’t a lot of feral protective Ford in this, just sad wet cat baby Ford (tho you get a glimpse of it at the very end), but believe me I have many thoughts of protective Ford as they’re teens hehe!!

Like, they’re so fun to be because they’re the opposite of how they are in the show! Stan was the protector and would get into fights for Ford, but as teens Ford is extremely protective of Stan and will throw himself into a fight he know he can’t win in a moments notice because they insulted Stan, even when Stan tries to insist that it’s okay. These two make me siiiiick 💥💥💥💥💥

Anywho, this mini writing this is just a prolonged scene from Weirdmageddon part 3 but with my Relativity Falls AU paint on it lol

It’s filled with an comical amount of tears because I believe Mabel and Dipper are weepy saps and the baby boys haven’t had the ‘Boys don’t cry’ motto drilled into their heads yet, also they’re like, super traumatized atm haha

Well, have fun reading! Please please please please be nice, I know I’m not the best writer and just write when I’m possessed so please be so niceies to me or I’ll fucking cry <33💥💥💥💥

Everything is under the cut! :]

🍃🪦☁️~~~~~~~~~~~~��️👓🥀

Mabel and Dipper could only watch on in shock and horror as one of their beloved great nephew erased the mind of their other beloved great nephew. Dipper didn’t even know the boys still had that blasted machine, much less that they still had it on them here of all places!

Maybe it was good that the children had the memory gun hidden away. After all, they just used it to outwit and defeat Cipher.

However… at what cost?

Stanley’s round face was drenched in silent tears as he held the memory gun to the back of his brother’s head, his gaze completely focused but his trembling grip on the memory gun giving away just how much this was affecting him.

Dipper always thought he’d be ecstatic when Bill Cipher was finally defeated. Spit on his face, dance on his grave, give the worst eulogy in the world, the whole shebang. But now that the moment has finally arrived all he can feel is sick to his stomach.

They’re just kids. They shouldn’t be here. His sweet little grand-nephews shouldn’t be paying for his hubris. This should’ve stayed between him and Bill.

It should have been him.

The bright blue light faded and the memory gun hit the ground, Stanley’s hands shaking even worse now as tears fell to the floor, unable to keep his head up as little hiccups fell from his lips.

Dipper was still squeezing Mabel close to his side, the two frozen in their huddled positions on the floor, gut-wrenching guilt on his face while his sister had her hands over his mouth, only able to watch on with dread.

Dipper only faintly registered that the other members of the zodiac had been released from their tapestry prisons. That blonde woman Mabel seemed to like was rubbing her head as that young Hispanic woman who works for Mabel, Anjelita, held out a hand to help her up. That red-headed hairy lumberjack and that one oddly peppy goth teen helped young Fiddleford through his shaky breathing.

After a couple of moments Dipper heard his sister take a deep shaky breath, his voice wet as one of her hands reached out towards Stanley.

“…L-Lee? Lee, baby come here-” There was a weary and wobbly smile on her lips. She was doing that thing where she tries to be the comforting light in an awful situation, even though she is not doing any better than anyone else at the moment.

She was trying to corral her crying great-nephew into her arms, a mixture of trying to comfort him and herself.

She was swiftly cut off by gravity going wonky.

Dark bricks ripped out of the walls and shot up into the rift up in the blood red sky, Weirdmaggedon falling apart at the seams. Creatures of many shapes and sizes flew up into the rift, the older twins gripping each other close as they stared up into the multicolored light. Everyone was staring up into the sky, hope and relief in their hearts that the nightmare might finally be over.

Everyone but Stanley.

He was intensely staring at the back of his brother’s head, silent tears continuously streaming down his cheeks, unable to see the small content smile on Stanford’s face.

As the light began to envelop the town of Gravity Falls, Stanley reached out his hand to his kneeling brother to try and grab onto him but was unable to before the light reached the two, erasing most traces of Weirdmaggedon’s effects and safely displacing everyone in the Fearamid to the ground below.

The woods were quiet. Everything was much quieter than it was during Weirdmageddon.

There was barely a moment of peace before Dipper and Mabel were sprinting through the woods yelling out for their great-nephews, panic increasing with every passing second.

They finally came across the boys in a small clearing after 2 minutes of franticness. Stanley’s back to the older set of twins and Stanford kneeling in the grass.

Mabel ran much faster than Dipper did, practically throwing herself to her knees as she grabbed Stanley and pulled him tight into her arms. She buried him into the crook of her neck, tears beginning to drip down her face as she ran her fingers through his messy brown curls, trying to soothe him while she gently shushed his crying.

“Shhhh… shhh it’s okay Lee it’s okay sweepea, I’m here, Grunkle Mabel is here pumpkin.”

Dipper would’ve chuckled at the use of ‘Grunkle Mabel’, something Stanley insisted on calling her even after she revealed that she wasn’t a man because he thought Grauntie sounded strange, but he couldn’t really feel anything but heart ache right now. He stepped closer to the crying duo, kneeling down next to them as he glanced over towards Stanford.

He still seemed to be unconscious, quiet as a mouse as he kneeled on the grass. He was so still that Dipper almost wanted to check his pulse to make sure his heart was still beating, but the soft breathing coming from his chest eased his worries. Stanford was always so stressed and on edge the entire time Dipper had known him, which in all honesty, wasn't very long. However, in this moment with that small smile on his lips his nephew almost looked peaceful.

Guilt ate at his heart even more.

God he should’ve seen the warning signs that tension was building between the two boys. He’s the catalyst for causing Weirdmageddon by saying he would train Stanford in Gravity Falls while Stanley went home. He should’ve put his foot down and said Stanford was too young and needed to go home at the end of the summer with his brother. But his great nephew was just so insistent and Dipper himself was scrambling to think of an amazing gift for his twin sister for their first birthday together in 30 years, he just caved and said yes.

He’s the reason Stanley ran with that cracked rift. He was the final crack in the already strained relationship between the boys and he was too blind to notice.

He turned to his sister once more, emotions welling in his heart seeing his sister and nephew so upset and clinging to each other. He gingerly rubbed Stanley’s back and Mabel’s shoulder, softly speaking with sorrow dripping from his voice, “Stanley, I am so sorry… words can’t express how much I didn’t want this to happen. You shouldn’t have had to deal with the consequences of my mistakes..” He gingerly tucked a loose curl behind Stanley’s ear, softly adding on with a feeling of shame flooding his head, “…It should’ve been me.”

Mabel’s head immediately shot up at Dipper’s words, a glare on her wet face as she shot back with a low warning tone, “Dipper Lee Pines.” He quickly shut his mouth. Noted, she wasn’t going to take any self depreciation coming from him at the moment. Can’t say he blames her, he would’ve done the same if any self-depreciating words came from her mouth.

Stanley muffled something against Mabel’s neck instantly making the two stop what they were doing to turn to him. “What was that baby?” Mabel gently asked as Dipper continued to rub his back. The young boy pulled himself away from Mabel’s neck ever so slightly, taking in a deep shaky breath as he shakily repeated himself.

“…n-not Lee-”

The older twins' brows furrow, their hands stilling slightly as it was Dipper’s turn to softly question, “What are you talking about Stanley?”

The brunet pulls his trembling form away from Mabel to stand up, wiping his wet face with his arm, his cheeks so flushed from sobbing that his faint freckles were easily seen against the red. He stood still for a moment, trying to calm his breathing before he stepped between the sitting pair of twins and towards his kneeling brother.

He took in the sight of him for a moment, a sick feeling in his stomach as his trembling hands tentatively grab onto the glasses on his unconscious brother’s face, his touch light as a feather and careful, as if he was afraid his brother would shatter if his finger even as so much grazed him. He carefully pulled the glasses off and stared down at them in his hands, a fresh wave of silent tears falling from his cheeks and onto the cracked glass lenses.

“I-I’m… I’m n-not…” He shakily whispers, voice caught in his throat as he tries to get the words out. He gingerly lifted the glasses to his face and placed them onto his red nose, his fingers gripping the temples of the glasses as he hesitantly turned around. His wet brown eyes locked with his kneeling great-uncle and great-aunt, the kid’s gaze drowning in guilt as Stanford hesitantly continued on with his wobbling voice, “…I-I’m not S-Stanley.”

The two froze at those words, Mabel's bewildered gaze kept whipping her gaze between Stanford and Stanley, quickly growing distressed while Dipper felt a deep pit form in his stomach.

He’s so stupid, it should’ve been obvious but in all the chaos he didn’t even think to check. In the moment of peace he finally saw the differences.

The six fingers and the way his eyes squinted without his glasses should’ve been a dead giveaway, but there were also other signs as well.

Stanley had told Dipper not too long ago that his tooth was knocked out the second day the twins showed up. Apparently it was knocked loose when he fell face first into the dirt while fleeing with Stanford from a vampire, after his brother had hid the 3rd journal away from Stanley all day, taking ‘Trust No One’ Dipper had scrambled onto that in a paranoid panic to heart.

Stanford just lost his tooth not even 30 minutes ago. When the boys had begun to argue on the Zodiac Wheel Stanley couldn’t take it anymore and decked Stanford to the ground. Dipper remembers the immediate regret that flashed onto the young boy’s face when his brother spat out a bloody tooth onto the floor, opening his mouth to try and apologize but was unable to get a word out before Stanford quickly punched him back, causing the infamous fight between the two.

Stanford still had some speckles of dried blood on his chin, a reminder of that awful fight.

The two had faint freckles dusting their face but Stanley was the only one who had freckles on his shoulders.

The bandaid on Stanford’s face was falling off, as if it was peeled off and slapped onto his face.

Mabel let out a weak and breathless noise of confusion, brows furrowed and clearly overwhelmed by everything happening in such a short time. “W-Wha-? How-?”

Dipper cut his sister off. She was barely keeping it together as is, and while he was also extremely upset he had a lot of practice suppressing these kinds of emotions to survive in the multiverse. He can take over for a moment just so Mabel can take a moment to breathe.

“Stanford… what happened?” Dipper questioned, a comforting hand on his twin’s shoulder as his furrowed gaze met Stanley’s. Despite how intense he looked, there was a softness in his voice. A quiet plea for his great-nephew to tell him what the hell is going on.

Stanford’s watery eyes stayed locked with the ground, looking almost as overwhelmed and weary as Mabel did while his hands fidgeted against his stomach. “W-When you two started getting c-chased Bill I…” His breathing hitched. “…I didn’t know what to d-do, I was just so s-scared.”

One of his finger’s lifted to his lip as he unconsciously began to chew the skin off the side of it, a habit Mabel has been fighting tooth and nail for Ford to quit through the entire Summer.

Not that she can really bring herself to care at the moment.

Stanford looked increasingly distressed as he continued. “I-I was panicking, I always know w-what to do and I just I couldn’t t-think of anything! I thought my h-head was going to explode when-” He takes in a sharp breath, more tears beginning to well up in his eyes. “…w-when Stanley said he had a plan.”

Stanford was trying to wipe away the thick tears off his face, his cheeks irritated and red from how often he's been rubbing away tears. “E-Everything went so fast. He was explaining the p-plan as fast as he could while we swapped clothes. Said we were going to p-pull off our best con yet. Tricking Bill into S-Stan’s mind by convincing him it was m-mine and then erasing him for g-good.”

“I t-tried to ask why we were d-doing all of this… Stanley could've just erased my mind after I let B-Bill in and e-everything would just end, but Stanley… S-Stanley didn’t budge. He s-said it had to be him. Said I… S-Said I actually had a future.” Ford breathing hiccups, shoulders hiking up to his neck as even more even more tears run down his cheeks and to the grass below. “A-A-And I was j-just so scared I… I let him… I let h-him take my place…”

A choked sob rips from his throat, unable to take it anymore as he covers his face with his polydactyl hands, continuing to explain through the tears and shaky speech. “O-One of the last things I ever d-did was punch h-him in the face! I never t-told him I was s-sorry! He DIED thinking I h-hated him!”

Dipper immediately jumped into action, pushing himself over to Ford and pulling his hands away from his face. He rested his forehead against his great-nephew’s and held onto his smaller hands, keeping his eyes on Stanford’s as he firmly spoke. “Breathe with me Stanford. In and out.”

It took a moment but the kid’s breathing slowed ever so slightly as he tried to mimic Dipper’s breaths though he was still unable to control the hiccuping and sniffling.

“You didn’t kill Stanley.” Dipper continued to speak, his tone softening considerably as he gently squeezed Ford’s polydactyl hand with his larger one. “He’s alive and breathing right behind you.”

The kid began to look frustrated as he lowly choked out, “He might as well be.”

Dipper… couldn’t exactly retort that. By all means Stanley would be a shell of his former self, fundamentally a completely different person when he wakes up. However, he wasn’t going to let his great-nephew wallow like this. He gently squeezed his hands once more and softly questioned, “…Do you really think Stanley would hate you after all of this?”

Stanford froze at the question, only the sound of rustling leaves and birds chirping to be heard as the brunet boy’s eyes stayed locked with Dipper’s before letting it fall to the dirt below. After a couple quiet moments Stanford finally mumbled out. “He should.”

“But would he?”

“….” Ford couldn’t reply, a bittersweet and melancholic feeling flooding his heart.

As if on cue, a faint noise was suddenly made behind the three of them.

Everyone whirled their heads over to where Stanley sat kneeling on the grass. His brown eyes blearily began to open as he raised his hand up to idly rub them. The faint freckles on his cheeks and his brown curls were dusted in the warm light of the sun. A yawn fell from his lips, tiny tears pricking the corners of his eyes from the deep breath, before he finally opened his eyes completely.

His brown eyes blinked away sleep, his gaze slowly darting between the three people also kneeling on the grass in front of him, not saying a word yet, just taking them in.

Dipper and Ford waited with baited breath, words stuck in their throats as they stared back at Stan, trying to find any familiarity in his eyes.

Mabel couldn’t wait a single second longer.

“…S-Stanley? Lee?” She softly questioned, tears beginning to well up in her eyes again as she gingerly crawled closer to him. “H-Hey my little firecracker! You r-remember me right? Your lovable Grunkle Mabel!” Her hands raise up to cup Stanley’s round cheeks, her smile a little wobbly but her brown eyes filled with a ray of hope. “You remember me, d-don’t you pumpkin?”

Stanley just stared blankly at his great-aunt, completely silent for a moment before his brows furrow. He tilts his head, confusion clearly seen in his blank eyes as he bluntly asks, “Who are you?”

Mabel’s heart might as well have shattered into a million pieces. The tears welling up in her eyes freely fall but the wobbly smile refuses to fall. One hand raises to run through his messy curls as the other continues to cup his face. “W-What are you talking about sweetheart? It’s me, Stanley, It’s Mabel.”

Dipper sprung forward and gently began to pull Mabel away from Stanley, that pit in his stomach growing even more as his sister tried to weakly yank herself out of his grasp while crying out, “It’s me, Stanley! It’s me!” He squeezed her in his arms as her cries turned to sobs, burying her face against Dipper’s chest as she finally let out all the pain she’s been keeping in her chest since the moment Weirdmageddon had begun.

“It’s no use Mabel, Stanley doesn’t remember anything.” Dipper softly spoke. He hugged her close and rested his cheek on the top of her head, her silver curls brushing against his skin as his brown eyes locked with Stanley. The kid looked so confused and lost, a sight that just made his heart ache even more. “…Stanley doesn’t even realize it, but he just saved the world… Saved us… Our little hero…”

Stanley brows were furrowed, not understanding anything that was going on in the slightest. He glanced over at where Stanford was standing, lifting up his hand to cup his mouth and loudly stage whisper to the brunet, “What’s up with the old guys?”

Stanford didn’t answer, just staring at Stanley with large globs of tears dripping down his cheeks. Without warning he sprinted to his brother, engulfing Stanley in a tight hug and hiding his face in his neck. The impact of the tackle hug almost knocked the two to the floor but Stanley managed to keep himself propped up with one arm, brown eyes wide with shock as even more confusion filled his fuzzy mind. “W-Woah, okay-! We’re hugging now, I guess!”

“I’m s-sorry, I’m sorry, I’m s-so sorry-” Stanford kept repeating those words over and over against his brother’s neck, his body trembling from just how hard he was crying.

Stanley had no clue what the hell was happening. He was in a place he’s never seen before, surrounded by strangers sobbing their eyes out, and he was realizing that he couldn’t really remember what his name was again. A part of him was telling him he should just book it, get away from these weirdos, but something in him refused to let him.

Maybe it was because they all genuinely looked so sad. He didn’t know who they were but his heart sorta ached at their grief-stricken appearances, kind of wanting to comfort them in some way.

Maybe he’s a bleeding heart, he can’t really remember if he is.

Stanley shuffled a little in Stanford’s tight grasp until finally something kinda heavy was laid onto the sobbing child’s shoulders. Stanford tentatively lifted his wet face from his brother’s neck to peer behind him.

It was his leather bomber jacket. Stanley had subtlety slipped off the jacket, careful not to jostle the crying kid too much, then plopped it onto his shoulders.

“You looked like you needed it more than me.” Stanley spoke, an awkward but kind smile on his face. He then quickly shrugged it off and added on with a casual tone, “Besides, I was gettin’ warm in that thing, you can just keep it.”

Stanford sharply inhaled at those words, polydactyl hands letting go of Stanley to grip at the jacket draped over his shoulders and pull it even closer, acting as if it was a barrier that could protect him from the world around him. A choking sob ripped from Stanford’s throat, hiding his face against his brother’s neck once again.

“Okay! We’re still crying!” Stanley awkwardly sputtered out, tensing up as the brunet continued to cry against his neck, unsure of what he should be doing. Eventually he settled on tentatively patting the crying kid’s back, hoping that he was actually comforting the kid and not making whatever was happening worse.

“I s-shouldn’t have pushed you a-away because I was t-told to! You w-were never a burden! I-I don’t hate you! I n-never did!” Stanford kept crying apologizes against Stanley’s shoulder, making the already confused brunet boy even more lost with every word spoken. His hand continued to pat on Ford’s back as he softly replied, his words tentative and unsure, “…I don’t hate you either.”

“Yes you do.” Stanford thickly replied against his brother's shoulder, completely and utterly convinced in his distraught state that his brother would absolutely hate him if he could remember what Ford did to him.

Stanley couldn’t exactly reply to that because he genuinely didn’t know if he did hate this kid. He didn’t even know who he was. So instead of responding he just continued to rub the brunet’s back, hoping to ease the hyperventilation sobs buried against his skin.

It took a handful of long moments filled with silence and tears for the three to compose themselves, Dipper being the first to finally stand up.

“…We’ve been wallowing here long enough, people are going to get worried.”

Dipper gingerly pulls Mabel to her feet, tears had stopped falling from her face but her cheeks red and her famous smile no longer present. He made sure his sister was steady on her feet before holding out his hand to the twin boys huddled together on the ground, a small weary smile on his wrinkled face.

“Come on… let’s go home.”

The twins pull themselves up with Dipper’s help. Once on their feet Ford latches onto Stan’s arm, sticking to his side and refusing to let go. Stanley doesn’t seem to mind or even notice the clinging presence as his brown eyes look up at the sky and over the tall trees with curious wonder.

Dipper softly sighed and eyed over the fascinated brunet looking over the tree line with concern, “Are your muscles alright, Stanley? No issues with walking or standing?”

The kid didn’t respond for a moment, still looking around before he finally registered that he was being spoken to. His brown eyes darted around before he pointed at himself with his free hand. “Oh! Am I Stanley?”

Dipper felt a stab in his chest at the question, but still gently replied, “Yeah… you’re Stanley.”

Stanley nodded at the confirmation and softly said ‘Staaaanley’ under his breath, getting accustomed to the unfamiliar name.

“Stanley… cool name! I like it!” He cheerfully replied, a wide smile spreading across his face that showed off his missing tooth. “And my legs are fine, I think.” He used his free hand to grab onto Dipper’s hand and loudly added on, “Now lead the way, old man!”

Dipper sighed and squeezed onto Stanley’s hand, gently guiding him through the woods back to the Shack, never forgetting the route home even after all these years.

The twins were parallels of each other as they walked. Mabel was clinging onto her brother’s arm and leaning her head against his shoulder while Stanford was doing the same with his brother. The air was so tense and gloomy around the four, affecting all but Stanley.

Stanley was looking around the woods as they walked, his brown eyes full of innocent wonder as he mumbled under his breath about ‘Never seeing trees this big’.

When they made it back to the Shack Dipper could only wince at the state it was in. It was falling apart and damaged from the battle during Weirdmageddon, the damage unable to be reversed even after the apocalypse had ended.

“The Shack…” Mabel sadly lamented under her breath, the sight of the place she spent 30 years making into a home and business just adding onto her already overwhelming amount of sadness.

Dipper was about to try and comfort her when he noticed 3 figures standing in front of the shack. After a moment the three started to sprint towards the family, frames becoming clearer as they got closer.

It was Anjelita, Boyish Dan, and Fiddleford.

“Are you guys alright?!” Boyish Dan loudly asked with his booming voice before he even reached the family. Anjelita was silently but swiftly following behind him, her hand gripping her Abuelo’s cap so it wouldn't fly off her head and her eyes filled with concern. Fiddleford was tripping over his feet from how fast he was sprinting, Dipper was mildly concerned the accident prone teen was going to trip over a branch or rock and slam face first against the ground.

He didn’t trip, thankfully. The small blond teen stumbled to a stop in front of the family, specifically the younger set of twins, panting heavily. “Thank the lord y’all are alright! I thought y'all had gotten trapped under somethin’ or hurt or worse!” Fiddleford anxiously rambled on, clearly having thrown himself into a tizzy over his friend's safety.

Stanley’s brows furrowed at the new faces, especially the long nosed southern one right in front of him. He raised an eyebrow and looked over the blond with an untrusting gaze. “…You’re not going to hug me and cry too, are you?”

Fiddleford looked bewildered at the question, blinking in confusion as he asked, “Now why on’ earth would I do that?”

Before Stanley or someone else in the family could reply, Anjelita spoke up from beside Boyish Dan. “His memory was erased, correct?”

The family, minus Stanley, flinched at the question.

Anjelita was a very observant young lady, so it makes sense she would be the first to notice.

Fiddleford and Boyish Dan kinda tensed up at the question. They also saw what happened while they were trapped in the tapestries, but they had hoped that maybe…

“That really stuck? He doesn’t remember anything?” Boyish Dan questioned.

“Nothin’ at all?” Fiddleford softly added.

Dipper wordless shook his head and a solemn silence covered them all.

The three followed the family into the dilapidated Mystery Shack, everyone looking over the cracks and debris with melancholy and sadness on their faces. Well, all but Stanley.

Stanley excitedly jumped up as they all entered the run down living room. “Wow, nice place you have here!” The brunet ripped away from Stanford and Dipper’s grasp, the suddenness making Stanford weakly try and latch back onto his brother for just a moment before giving up and wrapping his arms around his stomach. The boy then ran full speed at the dusty recliner. Stan always loved that chair would steal it from Mabel whenever he had a chance.

He jumped onto the seat and laughed as he bounced a little before settling down. “Lovin’ this chair! I just sink into this thing!”

He opened his brown eyes and saw everyone standing at the edges of the room, the miserable air of sadness weighing so heavy on the room he could feel it pressing against his skull. Stanley limply leaned back in the chair, a faint look of annoyance on his face as he bluntly questioned, “Geez, am I at a funeral? Who died and turned you all into sad sacks.”

No one answered.

Fiddleford turned to the group, going to lift his finger to bite on it only to stop himself when he realized he was doing it. Instead the blond lifted up his chewlery necklace and began to bite on it instead, his nerves shot as he desperately asked, “Surely there must be ah’ way to reverse this!”

“No, there isn’t.” Stanford replied, not even bothering to look up from the floor, looking extremely tired and downright miserable as he hugged his jacket closer.

Fiddleford whips around to Stanford, exasperation and agitation clear on his face as he yells back, “There's gotta’ be!”

Dipper softly sighed, defeat dripping from his voice as he gently replied. “I’m sorry, Fiddleford. There isn’t anything we can do for Stanley. No one can come back from something like this.”

Anjelita perks up from the besides Boyish Dan, counteracting Dipper’s statement with a simple, “Miss Candy.”

“W-What?” Dipper questioned, blinking up at her in confusion.

The large red-headed teen jolted and jumped up at the reminder.

“That’s right! Kooky Candy got her memories back during that whole weird secret society adventure!”

Fiddleford looked up at Dipper with hope and desperation in his green eyes, hands trembling from the reminder of that awful day and his shot nerves. “Y-Yeah! An’ Miss Candy’s mind was cracked ‘cause of tha’ memory gun!”

The blond points to Stanley sitting on the recliner, the confused brunet just staring at the group with furrowed brows, not taking in anything that they’re saying. “Lee still gotta’ chance!”

Dipper is quiet for a moment, brain running a mile a minute. When he finally speaks up again his voice is low and unsure.

“… I’m not going to say it's going to work,”

His eyes meet his sister’s, her sad brown eyes filled with a glimmer of hope at the thought of being able to save her little firecracker.

“But I’m not going to say it’s impossible either.”

He racked his brain once more, trying to think of a solution, an answer that has a high probability of working.

“…Maybe if we had something that could jog his memory-”

Mabel suddenly gasped, eyes wide as she squeezes Dipper’s arm, her grip tight. “My scrapbook!”

She then quickly rushes to a desk near the table, glitter and shimmering pieces of paper fluttering out as her hands rummaged in one of the drawers. She let out a loud ‘Aha!’ And pulled out a pink and very sparkly scrapbook.

“It’s not going to work.” Stanford bluntly mumbled, defeat and sorrow clinging to his small frames.

“Not with that attitude!” The old woman quickly shoots back, not letting anything snuff out her freshly burning glimmer of hope in her chest.

She quickly ran back over to Stanley, the rest of the group, minus Stanford, following suit. She placed the glimmering book onto the confused child’s lap, the front labeled ‘Summer of 2012’ in sparkly glitter pen.

“I’ve been working on this book since the day you two arrived!” Mabel offhandedly explained while opening it to the first page. Pasted in the middle of that page was a cute photo of Stanley and Stanford unpacking their bags. Stan was making a silly face at the camera while Ford had not realized the photo was being taken, too busy hanging up his Nikola Tesla poster with a concentrated face. Stickers and other miscellaneous crafting objects were glued to the page. “Here’s the first day you two arrived!” She then pointed at about 4 to 6 small pieces of wood taped to the page. “And those are the splinters you got stuck in your hand when trying to unpack!”

Stanley furrowed his brow at that, very confused on why she would keep something like that but not having a chance to ask before she pointed to the next thing.

The next photo on the page was Stanford and Stanley looking a tiny bit scratched up and tired. Ford was looking away from the camera and into the inner pocket of his jacket, excitement shining in his eyes as he stared at the journal he had found in the woods that day that was poking out of his jacket ever so slightly. Stanley was also excited but for a very different reason. His eyes were wide with excitement, his equally wide smile showing off the space in his teeth where his tooth was knocked out. The missing tooth was being held very close to the camera, still covered in small flecks of blood.

“And here’s you losing your tooth the very next day!”

Next to the photo was also a small tooth taped onto the paper, assumedly Stanley’s baby tooth that was knocked out. He especially wanted to ask why she had scrapbooked that but was once again cut off, no one except him finding this old woman strange in the slightest.

Fiddleford had leaned over and flipped the page. On the page was a photo of Fiddleford, Stanley, and Stanford all huddled together on one of the boy’s beds, all of them wearing pajamas. Stanford and Stanley seemed to both be talking at the same time, talking over each other while Fiddleford looked a little nervous and overwhelmed, but a smile very clearly seen on his face as he was squished between the twins.

“Tha’s the first time I spent tha’ night after we ‘came friends! After I, uh, ya’ know, tried to kill ya’ with a giant robit-”

Boyish Dan pointed at the next page. The twins were wearing 70s themed dancing clothes, disco lights shining on the two as they stood alone on a dance floor. The boys were covered in punch but still smiling while sideways hugging. Stanford in particular looked a little tired and had a bruise or two.

“Your guy’s 13th birthday party? A bunch of power hungry Ford clones causing so much trouble we pulled the fire alarm and set off the sprinklers?

He then pointed at two carnival tickets taped onto the page next to a photo of Boyish Dan’s grappling both of the twins under his arms and lifting them high into the air, standing in front of a carnival as the warm afternoon light washed over them. Dan was laughing maniacally while Ford looked shocked, grabbing onto Dan’s large arm looking at the ground nervously, as if he was afraid of being dropped. Stanley also looked shocked but not in the same way Stanford did. Stan’s face was bright red and he looked like he was trying to laugh off being picked up so suddenly.

“How about the carnival? You tried that ‘test your strength’ game while Ford did that ‘guess how many jellybeans are in this jar’ game and both failed at them?”

Anjelita softly spoke up next to Boyish Dan as he turned the page. A picture of Stanley all dressed up was pasted onto the page. He was wearing a black suit, a red fez with the same symbol that’s on his sweater Mabel made him, an eye patch, and an 8-Ball cane. He had his eye patch flipped up and was winking at the camera, fully showing off his showman persona. Next to that photo was another one, this time depicting Stanley and Stanford sitting in a booth with Anjelita and her grandparents. Stanley and Anjelita’s Abuelo, Soos, were scarfing down a pizza slice as fast as they could, assumedly in a race to see who could eat it faster. Stanford was looking at his brother with mild disgust and concern while Anjelita’s Abuela, Melody, was excitedly cheering on her husband. Anjelita was sitting at the table leaning her chin on her hand, a soft amused smile on her lips.

“The time you were the boss of the Mystery Shack for a day? The arcade with the killer robots?”

Dipper had his hand on Mabel’s shoulder, carefully questioning, “Is any of this ringing a bell? Anything at all?”

Everyone, minus Stanford, were crowding Stanley, all in his personal space and making the dazed child even more confused. On edge and gripping the scrapbook tightly, furrowed brown eyes completely void of familiarity as he looked over the group.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Stanley began, quickly looking down as he slammed the scrapbook closed. “But none of this is making any sense to me! You keep talking to me like I know who you are, but I don’t!”

The hope in the group died at Stanley’s outburst, all of their enthusiasm fading and disappearing entirely in record time.

“Told you.” Stanford softly mumbled from the other side of the room, despondent and hugging himself tight while leaning against the wall, utter exhaustion seeping into his bones.

Stanley shifted uncomfortably in the recliner, that bubbling sense of guilt building in his stomach and his chest once again at the sight. He doesn’t even know these people but he doesn’t want to see them upset. Guess he really is a bleeding heart. He’s learning something new about himself every second.

The brunet sighed, idly rubbing his round cheeks as he quietly added on, his voice much softer than before, “Look… I’m sorry I don’t remember… I really am…”

“It’s alright Stanley, it’s not your fault.” Dipper gently replied, unaware of the way Stanford flinched at those words behind him.

There was a depressing and strained silence hanging over the group afterwards, no one really knowing what else to say after their hopeful attempt was proven to be pointless.

Then all of a sudden hot air and a snorting noise tickled Stanley’s left ear.

The kid whirled his head at the noise only to come face to face with a big old pig with a collar around its neck, along with a name tag that Stanley couldn’t read from where he was sitting. The two just stare at each other for a couple seconds, blank stare to blank stare, until it was finally broken by the pig hopping up and getting closer to Stanley, trying to chew on his brown curls.

Stanley squealed with surprise and tried to push the massive pig away, Mabel weakly laughing on her knees at the antics, her mind flashing to all the times Waddles has lovingly bothered her great-nephew the entire time he’s been here. She was about to tell her beloved pet to stop messing with Stanley when the kid beat her to the punch.

“Augh! Waddles! How many times have I told you to stop trying to eat my hair!”

Everyone froze, even Stanford’s head whirled over at Stanley’s words.

“…What did he say?” Ford asked, his voice laced in disbelief.

Stanford initially didn’t want to think there was a chance for Stanley to remember, figuring that this was going to be his punishment. Forever mourning someone who’s not even dead, someone he all but killed. But when Stanley spoke Waddles name, something he shouldn’t remember, felt that little ball of hope he’s been trying so hard to suppress in his chest reemerge.

Now Waddles was trying to lick Stanley’s cheek, making the boy squeal even more.

“I said get Waddles off me, Sixer!”

A small breathless laugh left Dipper’s throat as ran his hands through his silver curls, a hopeful disbelief in his eyes. “…It’s working.”

Stanford suddenly sprinted up to the group, grabbing onto his Great-Aunt’s arm from where she’s kneeling in front of Stanley and holding her scrapbook. “Keep reading, Grauntie Mabel.” His gaze serious, but his voice a soft plea.

Mabel had to quickly blink a couple times and bring herself back to reality, adrenaline beginning to pump in her veins at the prospect that this was working. She jumped to her feet, not even wavering as her knees creaked at the sudden movement, and called out to everyone in the room, “Story time!”

She grabbed onto Stanley, that classic Mabel smile was back on her face as she easily lifted him up and sat down where he was sitting on the recliner, pulling the frazzled boy onto her lap. She reached out and yanked Dipper to her as well, making him sit right next to her on the recliner. It was a bit of a tight squeeze but thankfully the two twins had always been on the lankier side so they made it work.

Dipper held his hand out to Stanford, helping him up and pulling him onto his lap, paralleling his sister next to him. Stanford’s immediately pressed against Stanley’s side, polydactyl hand instinctively slipping into his and squeezing like his life depended on it.

Boyish Dan and Anjelita leaned more on the farther back sides of the recliner while Fiddleford jumped up and sat on the armrest closest to Mabel, the blond pressing himself against Stanley’s other side.

Stanley was now completely surrounded once again, being hugged and squeezed and picked up by these strangers. However this time he didn’t get annoyed or uncomfortable at the attention. Instead there was this familiar warmth in his chest, like he was always meant to be held like this. He can’t really describe what caused that shift.

Maybe these guys are right, maybe he is remembering.

Stan allows himself to relax in the arms of the older woman and against the two kids pressing against either side of him, a small smile growing on his face.

“Okay okay,” Mabel began, flipping back to the first page of the scrapbook. “It all started when I got a call from my dearest older brother asking me to watch my sweet darling great-nephews for the summer, and how could I say no to having my precious little nephews all to myself for 3 months!”

Mabel began to go over every picture and every memento in the scrapbook, everyone else pitching in and adding their own commentary or laughing every once and a while, a smile on everyone’s face.

Except for Stanford.

Stanford was looking intensely at his twin, waiting anxiously for the moment Stanley finally remembered him.

A part of him was excited, the other was dreading it.

The moment his brother remembers what happened, what Ford did to him, their bond is going to completely shatter and Stanley is going to want nothing to do with him anymore. No more late night talks, no more covering for each other, no more getting into trouble. Stanford wouldn’t be surprised if Stanley wanted to cut him out of his life completely after this after what he did. Stanford wouldn’t even blame him. He deserves it after all.

Then he saw it and his heart stopped in his chest.

Stanley rapidly blinked for a second, a familiar shine in his brown eyes as he turned to look at Stanford, recognition and understanding in his stare for the first time since the end of Weirdmageddon.

The two stared silently as Mabel continued to talk, everyone’s words muffling into background noise.

Stanford wasn’t going to beg for forgiveness. His eyes weren’t filled with sorrow or guilt. They were steady, completely prepared for anything Stanley threw at him, knowing whatever it was he deserved it.

Stanley’s eyes were filled with that familiar shine but no emotion showed on his face as his stare bore into his twin, completely silent as the two eyes stayed locked.

Then Stanley did something Stanford wasn’t expecting. His brown eyes softened, a smile on his face as he got closer and leaned his head onto Stanford’s shoulder, his thumb rubbing over his twin’s polydactyl knuckles the same way their mother would do whenever she tried to calm them down when they were much smaller.

Stanford was tense, completely frozen. He was expecting yelling, punching, blaming, or even something as simple as wordlessly pulling his hand away, but he wasn’t expecting forgiveness.

He didn't deserve this. Stanley should hate his guts. Despise him and push him away just like Stanford was doing most of the summer.

Ford’s body didn’t untense, but he did slowly rest his head on top of Stan’s, squeezing his brother's hand as if it was his life line, his thoughts swirling in his mind like a hurricane.

He didn’t deserve Stanley’s forgiveness.

Or was it pity?

It must be pity.

It has to be.

Mabel was still speaking as she leaned down and rested her chin onto Stanley, Dipper doing the same with Stanford. A warm fuzzy feeling enveloped everyone in the room. Everyone but Stanford, who instead felt a sickening feeling of guilt deep in his chest.

Stanford didn’t deserve this. This kindness.

So he swore right then and there that he was going to spend the rest of his life atoning for what he did, staying by his twin’s side to make sure nothing would never, ever, hurt his brother ever again.

Or until the day Stanley wises up and realizes that Stanford wasn’t worth his pity, that he’s too good to have a coward like him for a brother.

Whatever came first.

🌻🌱🌤️~~~~~~~~~~~~🌦️🛡️🥀

Hope you liked it!! It was fun to write when my thumbs weren’t hurting from typing on my phone for 6 hours straight lmao 💥💥💥