#i still cant remember how creative writing works but i'm on fire!!!

[portalford]

Chasing Dreams ‘til We Reach Them

AO3

Mabel crosses her arms, decides against it, and puts her hands on her hips instead.  She wants to look scolding, not mad.  “Grunkle Ford, you haven’t been sleeping.”

Ford startles a little at her voice.  “What?”

“You haven’t been sleeping!  Dipper always gets bags under his eyes when he stays up too late, just like you.”  Mabel squints suspiciously.  “Do you chew on your shirt, too?”

“What?  No, I don’t chew on my shirt.”

“That’s good.  Sweaters are super soft, but they taste awful.”  She’s only tried it twice, maybe three times, but never again.

Ford’s just kind of looking at her, half-slumped over his journal, and Mabel stops trying to joke because this is just sad.

She walks over to him and clambers up into his lap.  He pushes his chair back to make room for her and she hugs him, mindful of his injuries.  She’s still got a few bumps and bruises from Weirdmageddon, too, but hers all have sparkly bandaids.  Ford’s just got boring white bandages, but he lets Mabel draw on them sometimes, so that’s good.

“Grunkle Ford, why don’t you sleep?”

Ford sighs.  She feels him rest his chin on her hair.  “I’ve never been very good at sleeping, Mabel.  Always too much to do, too much to see, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.  Dipper’s always up reading a nerd book.”

Ford’s chuckle ruffles her hair.  “I did that quite a bit at his age myself.  Stanley used to hide my books before bed.”

That’s a really good idea, actually.  Mabel usually just whisper-shouts until Dipper gives up and pays attention to her.  “Do you stay up late reading nerd books now?”

“Sometimes, yes.”

Mabel pulls away to look at him.  “What about other times?”

“Other times, I just don’t sleep.”

“Do you have nightmares?”

He won’t look her in the eyes.  “Occasionally.”

Mabel still hasn’t figured out how Stan’s twin brother can be so bad at lying.

Ford is smiling at her now, but it doesn’t make his eyes light up the way his real smiles do, so Mabel knows it’s fake.  “I’m fine, Mabel.  I’ve just got a lot of work to catch up on.  I’ve been away thirty years, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.”  Mabel gives him another hug, willing every bit of her own happiness into her uncle’s body, before sliding off his lap.  “Have fun with your science stuff, Grunkle Ford!”

Ford smiles again, and it looks a little more real this time.  “I will.”

Mabel stops in the TV room to take a deep breath.

Plan A didn’t work.  That’s okay.  She’s got plans all the way through E by herself, and she’ll get Dipper and Soos for backup and invent a whole new alphabet if that’s what it takes to get Grunkle Ford to sleep.  It’s her life mission until it gets fixed.

Plan B: Grunkle Stan.

*****

“Grunkle Stan?”

Stan looks up from the gift shop counter and smiles at her.  “Hey, kiddo.  What’s up?”

“Not much.  How’s your brain doing?”

“It’s got all the useless information it had yesterday, so I’d say it's doin’ pretty good.”

Mabel laughs.  Stan always knows how to cheer her up.  She jumps up to sit on the counter, and starts kicking her legs.  “Actually, I did have a question.”

“No, you can’t set up the sprinkler system indoors.”

“That wasn’t my question, but I will ask about that later.”  Mabel kicks her heels against the counter a couple more times, listening to the hollow thump-thump.  “Grunkle Stan, why doesn’t Grunkle Ford sleep?”

Stan’s smile disappears.  “What?”

“Grunkle Ford doesn’t sleep.  Sometimes I come downstairs for a midnight snack, and he’s always in the kitchen working or I can hear him in the basement.  And he’s always got bags under his eyes, and not the usual old-man kind.”  Mabel shrugs.  “Just… not sleeping always makes me and Dipper super cranky and sad, and I don’t want Grunkle Ford to feel like that.  I want to help.”

Stan sighs and hoists himself up on the counter next to her.  “I know you do, sweetie.  You’re a good kid.”

“I asked him about it and he just talked about other stuff.”

Stan snorts.  “Yeah, he does that.”

“Well I don’t want him to!  I want him to sleep, because he’s old and needs to sleep and be happy.”  Mabel grabs Stan’s arm and looks urgently up at him.  “Why won’t he sleep?”

Stan tugs his arm away so he can wrap it around her.  “Right, how to put this.  Y’see, kid, it’s… you know how Dipper was, after that sock puppet thing?”

Mabel does.  Dipper kept having bad dreams and pacing around and clinging to Ford’s journal like it was the only thing holding him together.  It was one of the worst weeks of Mabel’s life, and she just had the apocalypse.  “Yeah.”

“Well that was, what, a couple hours of putting up with that demon?  You saw how bad it was for him?  Ford’s been doing that for thirty years.”

Mabel’s brain breaks for a second.  Thirty years of bad dreams and pacing around and hanging on to your weird nerd books just to keep it together?  She tries to imagine having nightmares and no sleep for her whole life, then twice that, and her brain breaks again.  She stops thinking about it and hangs on to Stan’s arm instead. “Grunkle Stan, that’s so sad.”

“Yeah.”  Stan sounds sad, and really tired.  “Ford’s just got a lot to deal with, you know?  Bill’s been after him for half his life.  It’s hard to stop running when you’ve been at it a long time.  Hard to believe you’re finally safe.”

Mabel looks up at him.  “Did you ever have to run from anyone?”

Stan shrugs.  “Once or twice.”

“So what did you do?  What made you feel safe again?”

Stan shrugs again.  “Just hangin’ out, mostly.  Having time to think about it and realize that it was really over.  Also changing my name and holing up in a tourist shack in the woods, but I don’t think Ford’s gonna want to do that.”

Mabel giggles.  “He already lives in a tourist shack in the woods.”

“Not his choice, I’ll tell ya.”  Stan ruffles her hair playfully.  “You wanna hear what really makes Ford happy?”

Mabel leans closer.  “A magic science thing?  Is it dangerous?”  She gasps.  “Will we have to go on a mission to find it?”

Stan gently bops her on the head.  “You can go on as many magic science missions as you want, so long as you don’t drag me into it, but no.  What really makes Ford happy is you and your brother.”

“Really?”

“Really.  You two knuckleheads mean a lot to him.”  He rubs the back of his neck.  “To both of us, honestly.”

“Aww, Grunkle Stan.”  Mabel twists around so she can hug him properly.  “I love you too.”

“Yeah, yeah.”  Stan’s tone is dismissive, but his arm tightens around her.  “I’m guessing you won’t listen to me if I tell you to just let Ford work it out on his own?”

“No way!  I’m gonna fix this.”

“That’s what I thought.  Just think of something that makes you feel good when you’re having a bad day, and as long as it’s not loud or glittery Ford will probably love it.  Or at least tolerate it for your sake.”

Mabel scowls and pokes Stan in the side.  “Grunkle Stan, I want it to make him happy so that he’ll sleep.”

Stan pokes her back.  “I just told you — if it’s something you’re doing for him, it’ll make him happy.  Just think safe and quiet.”

“Safe and quiet…”  Mabel jumps up so fast she falls off the counter.  She pops back up immediately.  “I’m okay!”  She hugs Stan around the legs.  “Thank you, Grunkle Stan!”

She’s already halfway out the door when Stan shouts “no karaoke!” after her.  She ignores it; Stan loves family karaoke.  Ford can join in next week, too, but first:

“Dipper!”  Mabel bursts into their room, almost knocking her brother over.  “Dipper, come on!  I need your help with something.”

*****

“So what is this about again?”

“We’re having a party!”

Ford doesn’t exactly pull back, but he definitely hesitates.  “A party?”

“Well,” Mabel amends, “it’s not really a party because it’s just me and Dipper, and maybe Stan when he gets back from his thing with Soos, but we might play truth or dare and other party games, so it’s a party!”

“Ah.”  Ford does pull back when he sees the living room.  “You turned the entire room into—”

“A pillow fort?  You bet!”

Mabel’s super proud of this idea, and it only took her and Dipper the entire afternoon.  They gathered up every pillow in the whole house, then every pillow in Soos’s house, then Dipper went to ask the Multibear and came back with a golf cart full of pillows.

“He’s got one for every head,”  Dipper had said, and that was that.

Mabel tugs at Ford’s hand.  “Come on!  Actually, wait.”  She points at his boots.  “No shoes allowed in pillow forts.  It’s the rule.”

“I see.”  Ford pulls his boots off and drops them near the doorframe.  “Is that better?”

“Much.”

Mabel had thought about all the things that make her feel better when she’s sad:  Dipper, Stan, Ford, Soos, Candy Grenda, Waddles, Sweatertown, ice cream, glitter, arts and crafts, disco parties, and about a hundred other things, but most of them probably weren’t things Ford would like.  Especially disco parties.  And that was fine, because disco parties were fun, but they kept you awake and energized, which was the opposite of what Mabel was going for here.

She’d landed on a pillow fort as the perfect thing.  You sleep with pillows and blankets, and you can play fun games and eat fun snacks and spend time with your family, and those are all good things.  She just isn't going to connect this in any way to their conversation this morning, because that’ll make Ford get all weird and unhappy and this is a Good Vibes Only zone.

Ford settles crosslegged under the big blanket tent Soos helped them rig up with eye hooks on the ceiling (Stan won't mind) and looks at her intently.  “So what do we do at this party?  Besides truth or dare.”

“Well, Dipper and I usually tell stories, or play video games, or braid each other’s hair.”  Suddenly excited, “Grunkle Ford, do you know how to braid hair?”

“Well, I’ve never tried to braid hair, but I know how to braid rugs.  Also, there’s a species on Jeevar 8 that braids its fur in different ways to keep it clean and show status, and I stayed with a family with three children who taught me—”

Mabel’s already flinging her headband across the room.  “Show me!”

Ford laughs.  “All right.”

It’s a very complicated braid, but Ford is gentle and only pulls once, and that’s really Mabel’s fault for getting excited and bouncing.

“Is it easier to braid hair with six fingers?” she asks.

Ford’s hands pause momentarily.  “I suppose I can hold more strands at a time,” he replies, twisting her hair up near the back of her neck, “but you could do this with five fingers.”

“Sweet, because I want you to teach me all the braids you know.  Including the rug ones.”  

“I can do that.”  There’s the slight scrape of a pin on her scalp.  “And… that’s done,” Ford announces, just as Dipper finally makes an appearance with the snacks.  

“Dipper!  Grunkle Ford space-braided my hair!”  Mabel twirls around to show it off.  

“That’s really cool, Mabel.”  Dipper sounds genuinely impressed, but that might just be because it’s a space braid.  Mabel runs to the bathroom to check herself out in the mirror, and that is definitely a space braid.  

“It’s beautiful, Grunkle Ford!”  Mabel yells when she runs back to the TV room.  “I love it!”

Ford looks up from one of the boxes Dipper brought in.  ��I’m glad it meets your approval.  What’s this?”  

Mabel flops down next to the box.  “Pictionary!  It’s like an art guessing game.  You’d be great at it.”

Eight rounds later, Mabel is sort of forced to reconsider.

“Grunkle Ford, you’re so good at this you’re bad at it.”

Ford is comparing her drawing of ‘in the doghouse’ with his of ‘third wheeling.’  “Unfortunately, I think you’re right.”

“It is kind of funny to see the Author’s drawing style in Pictionary though,”  Dipper offers.

“That’s true.”  Mabel jumps up, scattering pencils and paper.  “Hey Grunkle Ford, if I pose, can you draw me but give me a really pretty dress?”

Ford looks confused, but he’s already reaching for a pencil.  “Why?”

“So I can hang it on my wall forever.”

Ford does, in fact, draw Mabel posing in a really pretty dress.  He also draws Dipper in an outfit that may or may not resemble his own portal attire, and Dipper and Mabel together as super-rad government agents.

Mabel holds this last drawing up triumphantly.  “With the power of imagination, we can be anything we want, and with the power of Grunkle Ford’s drawing, we can make other people believe it!

“Please don’t con other people using my art.”

“We’re gonna con other people using your art.”

“No, we’re not,” Dipper says hurriedly, snatching the paper away.

They play charades and a couple different card games and consider a game of Monopoly, but Dipper is already starting to nod off, so Mabel introduces Ford to origami instead.  The paper they were using for Pictionary isn’t really origami paper, but whatever.

Ford glances at a snoring Dipper over his origami Mothman.  “Should I take him to bed?”

“What?  No.  That’s missing the whole point of a pillow party.”

“Which is?”

“Passing out in a big pile.”

Ford folds out the wings on his Mothman.  “I don’t know if I’ll be very good at that part.”

“That’s okay.  Staying up all night is always an option.”

Ford gives her a Look.  “You do need to sleep at some point.”

Mabel bites her tongue on “so do you,” because that’ll make him suspicious, if he hasn’t figured it out already.  “I know.”  She holds out her origami pig to change the subject.  “Look, I made Waddles!”

Ford smiles.  “It looks just like him.”

An hour later, Mabel is curled up under a blanket against Ford’s side, listening to portal stories.

“So she really was a princess?”

“Yes, the last of her family and hereditary ruler of her planet.  It was right out of a fairytale.”  Ford shifts a little, adding another pillow to the pile he’s propped up on.  “It was a privilege to meet her.  She was very kind, and helped me immeasurably on my journey.”

“Sounds like you saw some really cool stuff.”  Mabel’s eyes are drooping, but she’s determined not to fall asleep.  Not until Ford does.

“I did.”  A pause.  “There was a lot that… wasn’t good, in the multiverse.  There was a lot that was good.  I had my fair share of both.”

“M’glad you’re back home now,”  Mabel mumbles.  Ford is warm and his sweater is soft and it’s really hard to think of things to say.  “Getting to meet you was one of th’ best parts of this summer."

There’s a long silence, then Mabel feels Ford’s hand run over her braided hair.  “I’ll go one better and say that meeting you and Dipper was one of the best parts of the last thirty years.”

“You win.”  Her eyes are shut now, but she hears Ford laugh softly.

“I think we both did.”

*****

Mabel wakes up slowly.  She’s warm and comfortable and last night was wonderful, and—

last night.

Ford.

Mabel is awake in an instant.  She messed up; she wasn’t supposed to sleep until she figured out something that would help Ford sleep and they have to go home in a few days and—

her common sense catches up to the rest of her brain and tells her to chill, and also to look around.

She does, and sees the pillow fort is more or less intact.  Dipper is still asleep with his face mashed against the Pictionary box, and he’s gonna have a heck of a red mark when he wakes up.

Ford is—

Ford is behind her, and fast asleep.

Mabel rubs her eyes to make sure she’s not dreaming, then rubs them again, even harder.  They start watering and she has to rub them a third time to clear them, but she’s definitely awake.

She’s awake, and Ford’s not.

He slipped off his pile of pillows at some point during the night, and now he’s curled up on his side.  Curled up around her, actually, which explains why she’s so warm and comfy.  

Ford slept last night, at least for a little while.  Mabel kind of wants to give a victory whoop, but she’d have to go out into the woods to avoid waking him up and she can’t be bothered to move right now.

Heavy footsteps cross the carpet, and Stan’s head pokes around the corner of the blanket.

His eyebrows shoot up when he sees Ford.  He glances at his watch, then back at Ford, and then at Mabel.  She beams proudly at him.

“You did it, kid,” he whispers.  “Remodeled the TV room, but you did it.”

“I sure did,” she whispers back.  “Power of Mabel!”  She wiggles one arm out of her blanket and points at the stairs.  “Can you get the camera?  I want a picture for my scrapbook.”

Stan winks and slips away.  Mabel carefully settles back against Ford, thinking up and discarding photo poses.  In the end, when Stan returns with the camera, she just decides to lay her head on Ford’s shoulder and smile.

“I want a copy of this picture,” Stan says, pointing at the camera.  “Photographic proof that Stanford Pines does, in fact, sleep.”

“You got it.”

“Whassat?”  Dipper blearily raises his head.  Sure enough, he’s got a big red mark on his cheek.  

Stan immediately takes another picture.

Dipper groans and rubs his eyes.  “Ow, ow, Grunkle Stan it’s—” a brief pause while Dipper realizes that he has no idea what time it is— “too early for this.”

“It’s eight o’ clock, kid, so I agree, but three out of four are already awake.”

“Three out of—”  Dipper turns.  “Oh, hey Mabel.  Is Grunkle Ford still sleeping?”

“Yeah.  He must have been really tired.”

“Idiot’s been up all week.  And injured, too,” Stan grumbles, but his expression is fond when he looks at Ford.  “Good on you for getting him to sleep, kids.”

“Thanks, Grunkle Stan.”  Mabel glances down at Ford, suddenly anxious.  “What are you gonna do when we leave?  Is he going to stop sleeping again?”

“I’ll make him a pillow fort every d—dang night if that’s what it takes to get him to sleep.”  Stan’s voice is dead serious, and it makes Mabel feel better.

“Okay.”  She leans against Ford again, determined to stay until he wakes up on his own.  “I don’t think you’ll have to, though.  I think he’ll be okay.”

Stan smiles at her, a kind of contented she doesn’t usually see from him. 

“I think we all will, pumpkin.

Mabel smiles back.  She thinks they will, too.