#like it makes sense that mabel got to keep waddles when she was with stan because like. he’s not exactly the most responsible

[rystiel]

imagine sending your kids to visit their great uncle for the summer because you’re about to get divorced and they come home with a whole ass pig. like what do you even do in that situation

[phi8]

Recently rewatched Gravity Falls with its resurgence online, and I was itching to give my take on an older Mabel with an absolute unit of a Waddles (who is a regular farm pig after all). To go along with this, I also wrote some fanfic: a letter from Dipper to Mabel, about his return to Gravity Falls years after the show. Read it on AO3 or below!

Dear Mabel,

I hope everything is going well back home!  I miss you already, but it’s so good to be back in Gravity Falls too. A  lot has changed since our summer here.

The first week of my internship at McGucket Labs has been amazing. McGucket has really transformed Northwest Manor into a fantastic campus (though he still insists everyone call it “the Hootenanny Hut”)! There are so many  brilliant scientists and engineers here, and most of them have a refreshingly open mind about the nature and use of all the weirdness you can find in Gravity Falls. My experience with all that stuff is already paying off big time. Yesterday some PHD dude asked for my opinion on practical applications of necromancy (I told him it was a bad idea)!

Candy says hi by the way! It’s funny, for me this internship is all the way across the country, but for her it’s practically in her back yard, even though we both got that scholarship. Also, she tells me Grenda is more or less officially part of the Austrian aristocracy at this point? Apparently she and that Marius duke guy got engaged, did you hear about that?? Turns out I’m completely out of the loop with your friend group.

Candy and I have been hanging out with, of all people, Pacifica and Gideon. Can you believe it? Pacifica works at Corduroy Lumber these days. Probably in some misguided sense to get back to her roots, but I think it’s doing her some actual good. Working with her hands has been teaching her valuable life lessons I guess. It makes it a bit weird if Wendy also comes hang out, because she’s technically Pacifica’s boss – but you know Wendy’s cool about that.

Gideon is still running the Tent of Telepathy, so, not all winners. But he’s turned into a more lovable kind of swindler I think, like a younger Stan. He’s honestly kinda funny now (except that he’s taller than me). Wendy also told me he has a thing for Pacifica, and once she did, I couldn’t unsee it. He’s all over her! Pacifica hasn’t noticed, even though they spend a lot of time together. Or maybe she just hasn’t deigned it with a reaction... Either way, both of them are a ball to go for a drink with, whoda thunk.

You also have a lot of hugs from Soos, Melody and the baby (Stan Jr is sooo cute). (Yes, I asked. Melody promised to make you godmother of the hypothetical next child. You owe me.) The Shack is as charmingly ramshackle as it was back when we were here, but Soos finally got the old man stink out. I’m staying in Grunkle Ford’s old secret office because our room was converted to baby chamber. I still haven’t gotten the Bill murals completely off the walls and I have no natural light down here, but I spend most of my time at Northwest Manor the Hootenanny Hut anyway.

Or in the woods! Being back here really was a good move for my Youtube channel, there’s so much more supernatural stuff here than in California, and people are loving it. (I saw you liked my last video, thanks!) I’m currently tracking down what I think is the actual Gobblewonker. I analyzed some detritus samples from the lake, and there were feces from a large reptile present. From what we know, none of the dinosaurs in the mine were aquatic, so my current hypothesis is that it’s an unrelated creature. Especially since, according to my research, the Gobblewonker story dates back at least a century. I also gotta show Ford some of my findings. You know they’ve come across some aquatic monsters in the Bermuda Triangle. (Have you also been getting his mails with scans of the fourth journal? Truly fascinating stuff.) Either way, I’ll keep you posted, and you’ll be able to watch the result online.

Give my love to mom and dad, and Waddles a tummy rub! Awkward sibling sign off, Dipper

PS. Along with the photo’s in the envelope is that stuff you wanted. Be safe with it! There’s a reason it’s illegal in the parts of the forest controlled by the gnomes. But also have fun, I have it on very good authority it’s the good stuff.

[revols-headcanons]

dipper and mabel: piedmont life

also this is borderline a fanfic but i have no motivation or peer pressure to actually write one. also warning there are OC’s in this post. this is potentially part 1 of a series?

both of them are autistic but in different ways. dipper is a “i am so insecure of my place in the world that I can immediately notice when there’s a dip in a conversation because of me” who would rather be alone then face social rejection. mabel is a “i think im really good with people because i am so unaware of social cues that i think everyone is being nice to me” who learned how to tell fake vs true niceness.

neither of them were diagnosed as kids, and how they both figured out was due to mabel helping the disabled classroom at her school and noticing similar habits and thought process from them. then dipper did research and they were like “oh okay that makes sense.”

in their sophomore year of high school, they both had identity crisis’ but in different ways: dipper became an overly cocky ‘too cool for anyone’ loner while mabel had a raging emo phase. both of them became deeply embarrassed of those phases the second they got out of them.

in their 8th grade english class, they did a duo project where they explained their entire summer (the prompt was to tell a fantasy three act story). dipper did the reading while mabel did the visuals (aka one of those pop up books but bigger and with her sound effects). their teacher asked them where their vivid imaginations came from and they told some excuse about being bored all summer.

their parents (who i am naming ingrid and robert) are (rightfully) pissed and confused when their kids start showing major symptoms of ptsd and depression. stan has literally no excuse for it and the twins keep dodging the questions.

ingrid is a anxious, stuck up mother who prioritizes education while robert is the relaxed father who expects the world but refuses to give help or support. let’s just say the twins don’t stay home as much. especially after the disaster the first week at home was when the twins brought waddles home.

after the summer, mabel gets into the trivia club and also tries out the science/engineering/robotics club (she also plays soccer, golf, and volleyball). her arts and crafts skills become incredibly useful when making a wooden structure with the purpose of finding the exact angle and falling distance for a marble. meanwhile dipper decides to try out for both track and football (he’s also in photography club and the school newspaper). dipper is the weakest member on the football team, but he’s the quickest runningback they’ve ever had, so the team doesn’t bully him too much for it. he’s consistently in the top 5 for his school during track.

mabel’s first high school friend is a black girl in her robotics club named aubrey. aubrey has adhd and has basically the same hobbies as mabel (i.e: karaoke, shopping, dancing, art). her second friend she meets at theater auditions (for the school musical, into the woods) where mabel watches her do a 10/10 audition performance and compliments her. she is south asian and named kamini, and her interests consist of theater, soccer, and english. her third friend ends up being the emo loner boy that she talks to on the first day. he’s latino and his name is dante. his hobbies consist of skateboarding, karaoke, and video games.

dipper’s first friend ends up being the younger brother of the football team captain, which is what makes the team stop bullying him. his friend is this kind of egotistical, yet himbo nerd of a dude named ethan— who’s a white boy with blond hair and freckles. ethan is interested in soccer and track as well as trivia, and they met during orientation week when they were the only two kids being ignored for the track club. dipper’s second friend comes from his ap english class, where he watched them cuss out someone for trying to harass a girl in the class. they’re asian and non binary and they go by paine. they like chess, english, and dnd, which is why dipper gets along with them so well.

dipper is able to convince ethan and paine to start a dnd session together, with dipper as dungeon master.

mabel eventually forces dipper into joining the program and dipper agrees to be backstage crew. it works out fine until they realize that their play has an unusually low tryout for men so mabel begs him to tryout for a lead role. he gets it because the programs desperate. he ends up playing either percy or grover in the lightning thief, and mabel gets casted as clarisse/katie/etc.

mabel loves taylor swift (specifically red, 1989, and lover) and also doja cat. she dabbles in ariana grande and marina from time to time as well. dipper has nightmares when he hears mabel, aubrey, and dante singing karaoke for first time.

dipper listens to cavetown and mitski mainly before paine and ethan lightly bully him into listening to the arctic monkeys and gorillaz. he creates aesthetic playlists for when he’s monster/creature hunting. neither of his friends believe him when he describes super natural things until (on two separate occasions) he shows them videos of gravity falls shenanigans and when they run into anomalies in piedmont.

mabel ends up getting a crush on ethan and then dipper has that tragic disaster to deal with.

dipper gets a minor crush on kamini before he learns that she views him as this cute little thing to watch but not dateable.

due to dipper’s boost in confidence, girls notice him and try to ask him out. he gets really flustered and confused, especially when girls who bullied him suddenly want to be with him. he rejects them all.

mabel realizes she’s bisexual when she gets a crush on aubrey and has a mental breakdown about it. she confesses, aubrey says that she doesn’t like the concept of dating at all, mabel takes the rejection decently, and they continue being the best of friends.

mabel gets jokingly asked out by a football boy and then dipper gets so pissed off he punches the dude in the face (mabel had no time to react, because if she did, she would’ve also joined the fight). a fist fight ensues, they both get suspended, and no one messes with mabel ever again.

mabel ends up befriending nearly everyone due to how kind and considerate she is. even girls who hated her from middle school soften because of her. she is a god.

most people are neutral towards dipper due to how he doesn’t really initiate social interactions, but that’s how he likes it.

dipper is an avid buzzfeed unsolved fan while mabel watches danny gonzales, drew goodman, etc.

dipper is trans. he realized he was trans when he was like 8, and he’s been a boy since. he was mainly bullied for being trans, but ever since he got confident, learned how to kick ass, and started taking testosterone, people have left him alone. also his name ‘mason,’ he specifically chose to appease his parents (who wanted two twins with ‘m’ starting names that had 5 letters each), but he goes by dipper because that’s the name he would’ve actually chosen.

the twins have separate rooms at their parents house, but they keep accidentally passing out on each other’s floors (or on mabel’s beanbag, or at dipper’s desk). their parents ask why all of a sudden and the twins say they just got closer over the summer. they would never admit it’s because sleeping in the same room as someone who experienced the same trauma is relieving.

mabel constantly calls grenda and candy, reassuring them that while she also loves aubrey and kamini, that her gravity falls friends will always be her favorites.

robert’s favorite child is mabel because, although he has unfair expectations of them, he gives mabel excuses because she’s more art and people focused, while he’s overly harsh on dipper. ingrid’s favorite is dipper because he also likes puzzles, board games, and higher education, while she looks down upon mabel for being childish and irresponsible.

dipper refuses to give any explanation for having wendy’s hat instead of a normal cap. theories range from ‘he has a girlfriend’ to ‘he murdered a man for it.’ he also cried when a bully threw it in the trash once.

the twins have a bet for whoever becomes the tallest by the time they enter the mystery shack the next summer: whoever’s taller gets to pawn their summer chores off onto the other one for the whole summer. mabel gets at least 8 hours of sleep a night to help herself (though her diet is wack) while dipper eats a lot of height-growing food items to help himself (though he’s never had a consistent sleep schedule in his life).

[toothpastecanyon]

A Name From the Mailbox, Chapter 1

Dipper finds out the author's name before Not What He Seems. It's not the person he expected.

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

______________________________________________________________

“Step right up to the Mystery Shack, folks! Name’s Stanford Pines, Mr Mystery!”

Dipper looked up as Stan came through the door. He watched his uncle shoot him a winning grin before turning it on a group of unsuspecting tourists.

“This right here’s the gift shop! I know this kinda place is usually the last stop at your museum or whatever, but we do it different here, folks! Look around; everything’s weird, and it’s for sale! Buy something. Seriously, we’re not moving on till everyone buys something.”

He looked at the tourists milling about the counters, and jumped slightly when Stan appeared next to him.

“How’s it hanging, kid?”

“Wh-what?”

“You look like you seen a ghost or a shower or something.” Stan flipped up his eyepatch. “You been staying up too late again? I told you you were working the till today.”

He stared at his uncle’s face. Underneath the table, his hands clenched a piece of paper.

“Uh, Grunkle Stan?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I… can I ask you somethi-“

“Hey, tourists coming your way.” Stan jumped up. “Tell me after the tour, eh?”

“But-“ Dipper watched him walk off. He made a face, and looked down to the note in his hands he’d taken from a mailbox in the woods.

WHO IS THE AUTHOR? It read.

THE AUTHOR OF THE JOURNALS IS STANFORD FILBRICK PINES.

“You like that shirt, kid? If you throw in another one, I’ll make it two for the price of three!” Stanford Pines stood before the line, leaning on his cane. “No refunds!”

    Dipper frowned.

______________________________________________________________

    “There’s no way he’s the author.”

    “Aww, c’mon, Dipper!” Mabel swung her feet as she sat on her bed. “You said the same thing about McGucket, and look what happened there! Maybe Grunkle Stan really wrote it?” She grinned. “Maybe he knows about unicorns! We should ask him, Dipper! Dipperrrr!”

    Dipper stood in front of his corkboard. He pressed Stan’s picture against the centre, and then hesitated. “It just… it doesn’t line up. If he’s the author, what’s the deal with the six fingers? And the whole Mystery Shack thing - why would he just drop all his research to open a tourist trap in the middle of nowhere?”

    “Maybe he’s doing it in secret?”

    “Maybe, but… it just doesn’t make sense that it’s him.” He rolled his eyes at the photo of Stan posing with his wax twin. “I thought that the author was gonna be someone who actually likes the supernatural, for one. Stan doesn’t even want to talk about it with me.”

    Mabel watched him sigh, and slump against the bedrest. She came over, and put a hand on his shoulder.

    “Hey, bro, maybe you should tell him!”

    “Why? It took raising the dead for him to admit magic exists at all. I don’t think he’d admit to it even if he was the author.”

    “Oh, yeah, karaoke night! We should do that again!” She giggled at his expression. “I’m joking, goober. But really, you should just ask him. He promised to be more honest with us, right? Maybe if he knows you know, he’ll know it’s okay to let you know what he knows, you know?”

    “What he promised was that he wouldn’t keep any more secrets,” Dipper muttered, but he rose to his feet. “Fine. I guess it’s worth asking first. You think he’s in the living room?”

“Yeah, I saw him watching that weird fancy soap opera when I went to find Waddles. He tried to change the channel before I saw it, but he can’t hide anything from me!”

“Apparently, he can.” Dipper picked up the journal, stared at it for a moment, then put it under his arm. “Let’s go, Mabel.”

The two of them made their way down the stairs, and into the hallway. The light of the TV left a harsh glow on the floorboards as they stepped into the living room. Stan was sitting there in the dark; Dipper looked at his face, and for a moment he really tried to imagine Stan as the author, as the man who’d spent years in the forests of Gravity Falls, who’d made dozens of intricate illustrations and detailed notes on the oddities within…

Then Stan met his eyes, and he jumped. Stan jumped too, and quickly changed the channel.

“Oh, kids! I was looking for something to watch, but there’s, uh, nothing on.” He coughed. “You wanna put on a movie, or something?”

“Ooo, Dream Boy High!”

“Mabel!” Dipper shot her a look. “That’s not why we came down here.”

“Awww…”

“Oh yeah?” Stan scratched his chest. “What’s up, kid?”

Dipper took a deep breath. He clenched the journal against his chest. “Uh, Grunkle Stan?”

“Yeah?”

“You know the, uh, the journal, right?” He watched Stan’s face carefully. “I’ve spent - we’ve spent, um, all summer so far trying to figure out who the author of it is, and - you’ve lived in Gravity Falls all your life, right?”

“More or less.” He frowned. “Why? I told you, I don’t know nothing about that spooky journal of yours.”

“But we’re starting to think you do, Grunkle Stan! We think… you’re the author!” He waited for Stan to say something, but he just furrowed his brow and turned up the TV. “We found this - this mailbox in the woods that knows everything, and we asked it who the author was and it said Stanford Pines!”

Then Dipper saw it: a flash of something across Stan’s face. He stared at Dipper for a moment with wide, shaken eyes, and Dipper blinked.

“It… it’s true! You are the author!”

“Stanford…?” Stan shook his head. “Kid, I’m not the author.”

“But-“

“You found this out from what, a mailbox in the woods? Oh yeah, that’s a real smoking gun.” He chucked, but now Dipper heard something distinctly forced in it. “You really, heh, really found me out!”

“But Grunkle Stan-”

Stan stood up quickly. “Hah, listen, kid, the only thing I’ve been writing for thirty years is attraction signs, and I pawn most of that off on Soos! You really think I’ve got time to wander off into the forest and write all the stuff that journal’s talking about? I got a business to run!”

“But it was an all-knowing mailbox, it couldn’t be wrong…” Dipper clicked his pen. “What about that boarded-up room in the shack, with the mind-switching carpet? That doesn’t make sense, someone had to have made that, and you said you had this Shack built yourself!” He followed Stan into the kitchen. “And hey, why’d you build it so far out of town anyway? And right next to the secret bunker and where this journal was hidden?”

“Secret bunker?” Stan raised an eyebrow. “When’d you kids go down a secret bunker?”

“Like a week ago!” Mabel grinned. “We fought a shapeshifter and Dipper’s inner emotions!”

He frowned. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, you kids went down in some spooky bunker? I thought you promised not to go looking for trouble with that journal!”

“And I thought you promised you didn’t have any more secrets!”

“And I don’t!” Stan shook his head. “Yeesh, kid, I mean, I don’t know what to tell you! I’m not your nerdy author!”

“But-”

He grabbed the journal. “And I’m taking this stupid thing.”

“Hey, Grunkle Stan!”

“I should’ve done it the second I laid eyes on it. You kids get into enough trouble without a literal roadmap to all the weirdness in this place.”

“No! You can’t do that!” Dipper clenched his fists. “Give it back!”

“Whoa, Dipper, calm down, alright?” He stashed the journal under his arm. “Look, it’s for your own good. Your head’s getting way too wrapped up in this mystery stuff; I think you could do with a break.”

“But I’m so close to getting to the bottom of all the big secrets of this town! You can’t take it away now!”

“I’m sorry, kid, but I just can’t trust you with it!” He tried for a grin. “C’mon, how’s about we have some real summer fun rather than this conspiracy junk? Y’know, put on some popcorn, throw on a show… heck, I’ll even let you pick. Don’t get used to it, alright?” He chuckled. “So, what do you say, kids?”

“Yeah!” Mabel looked to her brother. “You should pick Dream Boy High, Dipper! Dipper?”

Dipper looked up at his Grunkle’s face for a moment, took a deep breath, and then spoke. “I say,” he started, “I’m gonna go to my room, and I’m gonna find out what you’re hiding from me, journal or no journal!”

Then he turned and walked out of the room. Stan watched him go, then looked to Mabel, who shrugged.

“I guess he’s not up for it tonight? Anyway, I’ll get the popcorn on, Grunkle Stan-”

“Hey, hey, hold your horses.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “You know, it’s gettin’ late and all. Let’s do this some other time, okay?”

“Oh, really?” She raised an eyebrow at him. “You just want to watch your old man soap opera, don’t you!”

“Heh, sure.” His smile faded a bit. “That’s my secret.”

“Okayyy, but I say we are gonna watch Dream Boy High together this summer!” She gave him a hug. “Night, Grunkle Stan.”

“Night, pumpkin.”

She made her way towards the doorway, and then stopped. “Oh, and Grunkle Stan?”

“Yeah?”

There was a pause. “Are you the author?”

“What?” He blinked. “No. I have no idea what Dipper’s talking about.”

Mabel grinned. “Yeah, I kinda thought so. It sounded really cool, but can’t see you writing that journal.” She looked up at him. “You sure you don’t know anything about unicorns, though?”

“No, kid. I had a horse with a cone taped on its butt once, though. The Corniune!”

Mabel giggled, and they both shared a laugh at that. She stepped away.

“You’re silly, Grunkle Stan. Love you, enjoy your old man show!”

“Goodnight,” Stan said, and watched her skip up the steps. He heard the attic door open and shut, and then sighed. The smile fell from his face, and he stood up, brushed himself off, and looked down at the journal in his hands.

Six golden fingers gleamed at him from the cover, and he rolled his eyes.

“All-knowing mailbox in the woods, huh.” he muttered. “Thanks for telling me about that one, Poindexter.”

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Knitting

Summary: Ford finally musters up the courage to ask Mabel to teach him something he desperately wants to learn.

Requested by both @starpossum and @3hobbitsinatrenchcoat. Thank you both so much, and I hope you like it!

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford had no reason to be so nervous as he stood as stiff as a board and tried to steady his racing heart, but he was. Maybe not as nervous as he was to walk into the principal’s office alone or when he was about to present his project to the college representatives, but a bit nervous. About what? Judgement? Rejection? But that was ridiculous! She was one of the most caring, open-minded, loving people Ford had ever met in his sixty years of living, in any dimension he had come across. Surely he was about to enter a safe domain. Taking advantage of his sudden flock of courage, Ford pushed open the screen door and let it creak to warn his grandniece of his upcoming presence.

Mabel was sitting on the couch as the early-morning sun shined through the trees, just recently risen. Ford smiled at seeing the thirteen-year-old girl knitting quietly with Waddles asleep by her side, a perfect way to start the day. Mabel looked up and instantly made a huge grin at her grunkle; this wasn’t the first time the two early birds had graced each other with their presence and she hoped it wouldn't be the last. “Hi, Grunkle Ford!”

“Good morning, Mabel.” Ford sat by her side on the couch and looked down at her work. Like every morning, she was knitting a sweater. While most of the time she knitted for herself, occasionally she would knit for someone else. “What are you working on today?”

Mabel held up her half finished sweater, which was black with a skull on it, a bit edger than her usual taste and it certainly caught Ford by surprise. “I’m working on my Summerween daytime sweater. And I can wear this at the vampire concert I’m going to this Saturday.”

“Oh,” Ford said and shrugged with a smile. “Well, be sure to eat something with lots of garlic before you go.”

“Don’t worry, Grunkle Stan already promised that he’ll make spaghetti and garlic bread for dinner that night.”

Ford chuckled lightly, “That should keep you safe,” and ruffled her hair gently. Silence fell between them comfortably as Mabel worked blindly, her eyes admiring nature at it’s finest, and Ford did the same, though his mind was elsewhere.

This was stupid. This was preposterous. This was ridiculous. This was ludicrous. This was absurd. Suddenly he was almost too apprehensive to talk to his own family, but why? Surely it wasn’t due to a lack of bravery; he had faced thousands of monsters and even an all-knowing braid demon. No, the fact was that Ford was far more afraid of the smallest possibility that Mabel would turn him down or laugh or deny his request than he was afraid of anything in the Multiverse. But really, the possibility that Mabel would say no was laughable, so he steadied himself with a quiet intake of breath and said quietly to have her attention, “Mabel?”

“Uh, huh.” She said and looked up at him and even paused her knitting to give him her undivided attention. Ford somewhat wished she hadn’t.

He cleared his throat and tugged at his turtleneck a little to try to make it easier to breathe. “Would it be… erm, I mean, I understand you’re a very busy young lady, but… I-I-I would be honored if you would find… um, I mean, if you would take the time to walk me through the details on how to create sweaters by hand.”

Mabel’s eyes widened. Ford misread her facial expression and quickly looked away. He could feel heat rising in his face uncomfortably. “You… want me to teach you how to knit?”

“Of course, I understand if you don’t want to, I fully anticipated that you would much rather…”

“GRUNKLE FORD, I WOULD LOVE TO!” Mabel threw herself into Ford, catching him by surprise, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled her face into his shoulder. “I’ve been waiting almost a year for this moment! I’m so happy you wanna learn how to knit! What made you wanna learn?!”

“Oh,” Ford was still slightly too flustered to communicate properly, but he tried. “I… I suppose you inspired me t-to give it a try, y-y-you know?”

Mabel squeezed him and then let go to grin at him “Well then you came to the right gal! Give me a second, I’ll be right back with everything!” And very soon she was gone.

Ford smiled at himself, feeling a bit stupid. Of course Mabel would be delighted in teaching a loved one how to perform a task she had mastered. But still, he had been waiting to ask her for so long now and had built up the moment in his head that of course his insecurities would ram their ugly head.

Mabel came back with a suitcase filled to the brim and a messenger bag over her shoulder that was decorated with buttons. Ford raised an eyebrow as Mabel let the suitcase sit on the floor and she zipped it open. He was amazing to find dozens of balls of yarn arranged in rainbow order in the suitcase.

“Okay! It’s very important when you knit to work with colors you like.” Mabel instructed as she sat next to him on the couch. “You’re going to be looking at your yarn for a long time, you don’t wanna pick a color you’re gonna get sick of, so pick any color you want!”

“That makes sense.” Ford complimented and held his cleft chin in thought. There were so many colors it was like he was at a craft store. One caught his eye and he happily picked up a blue ball of yarn with white freckles in it. “I think I’ll use this one.”

“Oo! That’s pretty! Okay,” Mabel picked up a dark-green ball of yarn and rested it in her lap. She rummaged through her messenger bag, which from the soundso fi t was full of knitting needles, and she pulled out a pair of orange average-sized needles. “There’s different sizes of needles for what you wanna make, but this is a good beginner’s set. You can keep them if you want.”

“Thank you, my dear.” Ford said, quite excited now that he had the materials he needed to work. “So how do we make a sweater?”

Mabel giggled innocently and elbowed the sleeping pig. “Waddles, you hear that, Grunkle Ford is so cute.” She stopped her laughing to gently guide her student. “Sweaters are really hard, you have to master knitting first before you do something that complicated. The best thing to knit first is a scarf or maybe a hat if you’d rather make a hat.”

“Oh.” Ford did feel a little foolish to think one could go from not knowing how to knit to making sweaters, but he smiled was was excited to learn how to make several articles of clothing. “Very well, I think a scarf would be perfect!”

“Great!” Mabel picked up her ball of yarn and said, “First, you wanna find the tail, it’s usually tucked inside… right there, perfect! Now unwind some, you’ll need a few feet to get started. That’s good, perfect! Now, I’ll go ahead and warn you, getting started is harder than the actual knitting, so if you can get the ball rolling you’ll be gold!”

“Okay, so…”

“Right. First, you wanna make a rainbow… yes! Now cross the ends over like this… good! Then, you see this part of the string? Pinch your fingers, poke them through, grab that part, and pull it through. That’s it, you’re got it! That’s the main hoop, you put it through your needle and pull it tight, like this.”

Together the pair hooked on their first hoop and Mabel smiled proudly. “Good, now grab the long part of the yarn, not the tail, that’s the one! Now what you wanna do is twist it around your fingers, like this.” And Mabel demonstrated it on her hand. Thankfully it mostly consisted of her thumb and pointer finger, so Ford was able to copy it exactly. “Yes, good, now do you see this little hole? Just gently poke your needle through, and pull it off. Watch.” Mabel showed Ford what to do and Ford carefully copied her. He was delighted to see he successfully made another loop, and so he did it again and again.

“Wow, you’re a fast learner!”

“Well I had an amazing teacher.” Ford complimented.

Mabel blushed and said, “Okay, so these loops are how wide the scarf will be, see? So the more loops you make, the thicker it’ll be, so when it’s thick enough you stop. Don’t forget, yarn is fluffy, so it’ll be thicker than this first row.”

Ford nodded to show his understanding and thought of how thick he wanted the scarf. He made about twenty or so loops and then said, “I think that’s good?” He gave her a look that matched his questionable tone perfectly.

Mabel looked down at his work and grinned and nodded. “That looks great! Your scarf is gonna look so cute! Right, now to learn how to knit! This is a pretty basic stitch, but it’s a universal… nevermind, it’s an interdimensional stitch.” She joked. “Once you learn this you know the basics on how to make a bunch of stuff.”

“Okay, got it.” Ford held his opposite needle, excited to learn how Mabel can make clothes like magic by simply hitting two sticks together.

“Now, you see that big hole? The one the loop made?” Mabel asked, and when Ford nodded, she instructed, “Put your needle through that, just a little. Good, now loop the yarn around the new needle. Perfect! Now watch, this is the tricky part. There’s a second, smaller hole you need to pull your new needle through to make the knot. It’s right between the needle and the new loop. You poke it through, and pull. Watch me a few times, okay? You poke, loop, poke, and pull. Poke, loop, poke, and pull.”

“Hm,” Ford watched Mabel make a few stitches and tried to understand the smaller hole she was talking about. He gave it a try and thought he found the hole, but it was too tight and he couldn’t move his needle. He tried it again and found a looser hole he could work it, and when he pulled it made a stitch just like Mabel’s. Ford grinned and tried it again and was delighted to find it could do it successfully more than once. “I think I’ve got it…”

“You do!” Mabel watched him knit a few stitches and hugged him around the neck again. “I’m so proud of you, wow! Look at you go! Now just be careful not to split the yarn, like that. See, it’s okay, just unhook it, there you go. Now you just gotta do that over and over again. It’s kinda like typing, it’s easier the more you do it. Pretty soon you’ll be able to knit without looking!”

“Wow, this is incredible.” Ford marveled as he finished his first line and ran a finger over the stitches; it looked and felt like something Mabel would have made. “Thank you so much, sweetheart.”

“You’re welcome!” Mabel said as she knitted. “I’m just so happy you wanted to learn. Gotta be honest, I thought you’d never wanna knit.”

“Why is that?” He asked, generally curious as to why she would assume that. Had he accidentally given the wrong impression on the activity?

“Dipper tried it once and hated it.” Mabel giggled, but then looked kinda sad at the memory. “I tried to teach him, but he didn’t like the way he had to hold the needles and he couldn’t find the holes and eventually he got frustrated and quit. We hadn’t even finished the first lesson and he decided it wasn’t a Dipper-thing.”

Ford smiled sympathetically and guessed, “And so you predicted that it wouldn’t be a Ford-thing?”

Mabel shrugged apologetically and smiled sheepishly at him. “You and Dipper do like a lot of the same stuff.”

“It’s true that we’re very similar,” Ford admitted. “But we’re not complete copies of each other. I’m just grateful that one bad experience with a student hadn’t caused you to turn down another.” He smiled at her kindly and Mabel giggled and shook her head.

“Never ever. I’m glad you wanted to learn. I just hope you didn’t only wanna learn to spend time with me or cuz you thought I’d want you to. Not that I don’t wanna spend time with you! I do, but I want you to do stuff cuz you think it’s fun, you know?”

“No no, I understand.” Ford nodded. “I truly did want to try to make sweaters and scarfs and hats. It’s true that you inspired me, but I generally was intrigued by the activity and wanted to give it a try.”

“Well, I’m glad you did.” Mabel said matter-of-factly and gently stopped Ford when he made an incorrect knot and helped him fix it.

As the morning waned on and the day dragged on, despite Mabel leaving to do other things, Ford stayed on that couch knitting. He was very slow and constantly made mistakes, but he felt like he was getting the hang of it and he was having so much fun and was determined to finish what he had in mind. While all he had said to Mabel was true, there was another reason why he had wanted to learn how to knit so badly.

Mabel let his uncle enjoy the new hobby and occasionally praised him and reminded him that if he needed help all he had to do was ask. She said goodnight to him as he continually knitted on that couch and she requested that he not pull an all-nighter. Ford promised he wouldn’t, so Mabel went into her shared bedroom with Dipper for the evening.

The next morning Mabel was yawning into her hand as she cheerfully walked to the kitchen for some orange juice. She was surprised and disappointed to find her Grunkle Ford sipping coffee at the table. Just by looking at his eyes and the way he was sitting and inhaling the coffee Mabel could tell that Ford did not get a full-night’s rest.

“Grunkle Ford, you promised me you wouldn’t pull an all-nighter.” She scolded.

“I didn’t. I just woke up from a nap.” Grunkle Ford said cheerfully. “And good morning to you, as well.”

Mabel rolled her eyes at his cheekiness and she asked, “And how long was your nap?”

“Half an hour.”

“Grunkle Ford!” Mabel whined.

“I’m sorry, Mabel,” Ford chuckled amusingly. “But I was working on something very important.”

“Oh yeah, like what?” She asked as she opened the fridge.

“How about a gift for my favorite niece?”

Mabel turned around with the carton of juice in her hand and stared as Ford pulled a wrapped present up from his lap and onto the table.

Mabel had a tradition of making sweaters for Ford and wrapping them and placing them on his couch-made-bed. She would use tons of glitter and a big bow and would sometimes cut the wrapping paper too short and have to cut a second piece to tape over the hole. When Stan and Ford were out sailing and Mabel had to mail them the blankets and sweaters and hats and scarves and gloves and socks she had made them, she filled each and every box with glitter and included handmade cards and drawings and she always put everything she got into her gifts. As you can imagine, when Mabel caught wind that they were sailing in the Arctic Ocean, she was terrified of her favorite old people in the world getting cold and she made it her life;s mission to keep them warm even if she couldn’t hug them.

Ford desperately wanted to do the same for her. In his mind it was so unfair that she had never experienced the overwhelming joy of having someone make something so beautiful just for you. Ford wanted to make something for her he knew she loved and to take the time to wrap it and make it nice for her and to give it to her, not for a holiday or celebration, but just because she deserved it and Ford wanted to do something nice for her.

Mabel put the orange juice on the counter and slowly walked to the table. The present was wrapped in holiday wrapping paper that had reindeer and pine trees all over it. Ford’s math skills really came in handy, seeing how the present was beautifully wrapped, but it had a huge red bow on it and Ford used his really pretty cursive handwriting to spell out on a tag, “For my beautiful Mabel.” Mabel almost felt as if the gift was too pretty to unwrap. Almost. With trembling hands she quietly tore the paper for the gift while Ford rested his cheek on his knuckles and soaked in that star-struck look on Mabel’s face. Totally worth it.

Ford felt a small twinge of worry that she wouldn’t like the gift, but he quickly shoved that away. He wasn’t going to let his insecurities ruin this for himself. Mabel gasped and covered her mouth with shiny brown eyes as she stared at the gift. Really, compared to what Mabel could have done, it was half-decent at best. But it was still a nice scarf. Sure, there is an imperfection here and there, and the ends of the clothing material were bland with no fancy tassel or anything. It was clearly homemade, but the blue yarn was still pretty and the stitches were well made. Not bad for a first attempt, really not bad at all.

However, for Mabel, that scarf was the best gift she had ever received. Ford was startled to see her crying, legitimately crying with sobs behind her hand and tears rolling down her face. “Oh no, Mabel, my dear, don’t cry. It’s alright.”

“It’s so… so beautiful.” Mabel croaked and let Ford scoop her up into his arms. His warm chuckle rumbled against her chest as Ford rubbed circles into her back and she held him tightly. It was stupid to be crying over a scarf, but Mabel knew she wasn’t just crying over the scarf. She sniffed and wiped her tears on Ford’s red sweater and huffed, “Y-You did such a g-g-good job. It’s s-s-so… so pretty.”

Ford’s face felt like it was on fire. He did rinse off when he had finished shaving with fire, right? “Well, credit should be given where credit is due. I learned that all from you, sweetheart.”

Mabel hiccuped a giggle through her tears. It took a moment or two for her to calm down, overwhelmed with gratitude and love, and eventually she wiped her face dry with a tissue Ford had given her and she gently scooped up the blue scarf with white freckles and wrapped it around her neck proudly. “I-I-Is this how I make you guys feel?” She asked.

Ford chuckled and shrugged. “As a matter-of-fact, yes.”

Mabel hugged her scarf and giggled, “Then maybe I should stop.”

Despite the fact that it was obviously a joke, Ford grabbed her by the arms and begged very seriously, “Please don’t ever stop.”

From that day forward Mabel didn’t take off the scarf. Ever. Ford was a little embarrassed when she wore it to bed and wore it with her sweaters and skirts, but he was mostly very thankful she loved it so much. If it was too hot she would rather take off her sweater and wrap it around her waist than take off her gift, and once when she was having a bad day Dipper caught her in Scarfville instead of Sweatertown. When the summer ended Dipper sent the grunkles the new high-schoolers’ first day of school picture and Mabel proudly wore her grunkle’s scarf with her legging, skirt, and t-shirt.

Ford continually worked to improve his knitting and by the time summer came to a close Mabel was able to teach him how to knit a sweater. It took a lot of practice to get it right, but he was immensely proud when he could finally mail her a beautiful sweater that had a Milky Way galaxy on it. Ford was delighted when she texted a picture of her wearing it with a wet smile on her face and the fluffy gifts between the two just kept coming.

[nyroom]

The Ghosts of Childhood - Chapter 2

The Pines family adapts to this new change with mixed results. 

[AO3 Link] [Part 1]

All things considered, Stan took the news remarkably well. 

“So you’re sayin’ something came around and turned me into a kid?” He had echoed, scrunching up his face in thought for a moment. “Eh. I guess it could be worse.” 

To be fair, Ford had kept it simple and brief. There was no sense in telling Stan the reason he had gone out in the first place, just as there’d be no sense in explaining every shred of bitterness that had built up over the years. Stan was old, went out, and then wasn’t anymore. Anyone could understand. 

“And we’re your great-niece and nephew!” Mabel piped up, grabbing her brother in a side hug. “Your favourite great-niece and nephew, by the way.”

Ford almost corrected her that they were their only great-niece and nephew (unless there were more descendants of Shermy? Ford would need to investigate that once he was settled), but bit his tongue. For once, it wasn’t the time to play perfectionist. 

“Great-niece and nephew, eh?” Stan tapped his chin, a slow grin spreading across his face. “So that makes me the boss of you!” 

“Well, you’re younger than us right now.” Dipper corrected, straightening out his clothes from his sister’s hug/chokehold. From what Ford could tell, Mabel didn’t do her hugs by half measures.

Stan ignored this point, nodding to himself. “I’m the boss of people… Cool!” 

“Let’s not forget who the older twin is here, technically and literally.” Ford cut in next, shooting his brother a stern look. “So I’m the one in charge right now.” 

That made Stan deflate a little, crossing his arms and huffing defiantly. “Only by fifteen minutes!” He shot back, but kept it at that. For as stubborn as Stan was, that was certainly remarkable. Maybe now that they were farther apart in age, he would finally listen to Ford. 

Ha.

The annoyance passed quickly, Stan’s face brightening with realization. “So if Sixer’s an old man, then I’m an old man too, right?” He immediately rounded on Ford, leaning forward excitedly. “Did we fix the Stan O’War and go treasure hunting?”

Ford’s mouth shut with an audible clack. He had already told himself he wasn’t going to bring up the years of bitterness, but how was he supposed to answer that question without lying? ‘For unspecific reasons, we actually haven’t spoken in 40 years.’ That would never work.

He may be upset with Stanley right now, but he couldn’t bring himself to crush this child’s innocent naivety.  

“You run a business!” Mabel volunteered, saving Ford from having to answer. He wondered if she did that intentionally or not. “And you do have some employees, so you’re basically still a boss anyways!”

Stan’s eyes widened with wonder, childhood dream momentarily forgotten. “No foolin’? Wow! I bet Pa was real proud of me!” 

And here Ford thought it was impossible for this to get worse. 

The excitement in Stan’s expression crumbled a little at his audience’s stony faces, uncertainty creeping back into his features. He looked right at Ford, searching. “...He was proud of me, right? Stanford?”

The scene was so heart-wrenchingly familiar that, for a second, Ford wasn’t an old man with the threat of the world on his shoulders. He was a child, just like Stan, standing in a cave, hiding in a theme park attraction. His twin was so open and vulnerable, looking at Ford like he had all the answers in the world, pleading to tell him he was wrong. 

‘Do you really think I’m a bad kid?’

‘It just sometimes feels like Pa hates me.’

‘Do you know what it’s like being the stupid twin?’

‘I wish just once Pa would look at me the way he looks at you. Like he actually likes me.’

Truth be told, Ford had spent so long trying to bury Stan in his memories that he had forgotten all about his twin’s insecurities. His stomach twisted at the reminder. How long ago had those memories happened for Stan? How long had he felt like that in general? Probably longer than you’d care to admit.

Ford hadn’t wanted to lie to Stan if he could help it. Lies had never been Ford’s strong suit, not like they were Stan’s. Lies were liabilities, a misstep waiting to happen. They were messy and risky and something Ford would rather avoid altogether. Yet looking into Stan’s eyes, he knew he had no choice.

“Not just proud, Stanley. He was impressed.” He said, and his voice didn’t even shake. “You really beat him at his own game.” 

If at all possible, Stan looked even more starstruck than before. He looked back in the direction of the Gift Shop, blinking hard. Ford didn’t need to see his brother’s eyes to know they were damp.

It’s just a white lie. He told himself when Stan turned back to him with a thousand-watt smile. There’s no harm in a white lie or two. When Stan is back to his proper age, he’ll understand.

After that, the questions came at Ford rapid-fire. Really, he should have expected as much.

“So did we really go treasure hunting after all?”

“Yes.”

“Did we find lots of treasure and get all the girls?”

“Yes.”

“Did I open the business before or after we went sailing?”

“After.”

“Where’s all the treasure now?”

“Hidden away to protect it from pirates.” 

“What about the Stan O’War?”

“In a museum. We are world-famous adventurers, after all.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the younger twins exchanging a grimace and pretended he didn’t notice. The children just didn’t understand. It was easier to do things this way. If Stan knew the harsh reality their lives had taken, he may not be so quick to trust Ford and allow him to reverse whatever had done this to him in the first place. Stan didn’t have the emotional capability to handle the truth. This was for his own good.

He also pretended that the giddy smile Stan wore didn’t warm something within him, buried after so many years. 

Just because Stan is this way right now doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven him. I’m still justified to feel angry with him. When he’s his proper age, we’re going to have a very long discussion. 

“I told you it’d happen!” Stan proudly declared, reaching across the table to affectionately punch Ford in the arm. Ford pointedly ignored the memory of the last time Stan had punched him 30 years ago. 

Before Stan could launch into more questions, Dipper awkwardly cleared his throat. “Hey, uh, Great Uncle Ford? Do you think we could have some dinner?”

Right, Ford should have realized. Stan had left around midday and, apparently, hadn’t been back until just now. The children must be starving. That realization was followed by another, more daunting one: Ford would have to cook for them. 

Ford hadn’t cooked for anyone since he lived with Fiddleford, and even then that had been sparingly. Fiddleford had dubbed him a “fire hazard” when he accidentally added vinegar instead of pasta sauce; a clear overreaction. It wasn’t like he had done it intentionally, he had just been sleep-deprived! It could happen to anyone! 

“Of course, Dipper.” He responded, spite burgeoning him with confidence. He could cook just fine, thank you very much, Fiddleford. “You’re actually in luck, I was in the middle of cooking for myself when you all arrived. It shouldn’t be too much to whip up a bit extra.”

If he could survive the multiverse for 30 years, he could handle cooking for 3 children. It was just cooking more, after all. It wasn’t rocket science. What could go wrong? 

----------------------

Evidently, a lot could go wrong. 

As it turned out, leaving food unattended in this house was a bad idea. Apparently, a pig - Mabel’s pet Waddles, Ford learned later - had taken the opportunity to indulge in the unguarded delicacies and left nothing to salvage when Ford returned. Never one to accept a setback, he had merely taken it as a sign that he needed to make something a bit more extravagant than plain old eggs for a family dinner.

After liberally covering the kitchen in food matter, utensils, and soot from a spontaneous fire, the family had made the decision to give the kitchen a much-needed break. This was what had lead to them piling into Greasy’s Diner, tucked into a booth near the end of the restaurant. Mabel tried to assure him that Stan had done much, much worse in the beginning. Ford got the impression she was just saying that to make him feel better.

Truth be told, the idea of being in town set Ford’s teeth on edge. While the Rift may be contained, it was in no way safe. Until Bill was defeated once and for all, he would never stop trying to get it. This made every citizen not only a target, but a suspect as well. They couldn’t afford to trust anyone. 

Ford had almost turned the idea down when it was suggested, but a look at the kitchen reminded him that he wouldn’t be able to provide the proper meal growing children needed. Instead, he settled on lecturing them at length about keeping on guard, making sure to keep it specific enough to dissuade questions and vague enough not to keep Bill’s name out of their mouths.  Worryingly, the children barely seemed fazed. 

Now, sitting in the diner as the group looked over the menu, Ford was struck with another troubling realization. While people were going to address him by his actual name, they were still going to think he was his brother. With Stanley right there, he couldn’t very well correct them, either. Not only that, but he’d need to think of a good excuse for why “Mr. Pines” suddenly had another child. 

Frustration surged through him at the thought and he found himself remembering the resentment he felt earlier today. Damnit Stanley, why do you need to make everything so hard?

Before Ford could entertain that thought further, he caught sight of an older woman in waitressing attire approaching their table. She had a lazy eye, but the eye that remained open was a perfectly boring hazel. Not Bill. Ford could relax a little.

“Stan!” She greeted, smiling brightly at him. “Did you get dressed up just for me?” 

Ford looked down at his clothes and inwardly cursed. If he had had the forethought, he would have taken the time to dress like Stan to compl-- wait a second. 

As he finished processing the woman’s words, he felt his cheeks heat up with embarrassment. Of all the people in Stan’s life that Ford could have met first, why did it have to be someone he had been or was currently romantically involved with? He could barely woo his own partners when he bothered with romance, let alone his estranged twin’s. 

Luckily (or unluckily, in hindsight) for Ford, the woman soon shifted her attention to Stan and brightened even more. “And who’s this cutiepie?” Damnit, Ford hadn’t thought up a decent cover story for the town yet.

“My name’s Stanley!” Stan chirped, puffing out his chest at the compliment. He had always been more receptive to people’s praise, soaking it up like a sponge while Ford shied away from it. Ford supposed it was natural, considering how they were raised. 

 “He’s our younger brother who just got back from a trip to New Jersey!” Dipper cut in quickly, drawing the attention of four sets of confused eyes. He seemed to quail a little under the scrutiny, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uhh… Our parents decided to just send him here too.” 

There was a moment of silence, but only for a moment before Stan answered confidently, “Sure am! I can’t let my big siblings hog all the fun of camping up here.” Ford had forgotten how honed his brother’s lying was, even at such a young age. He hadn’t even stuttered. 

The waitress laughed and, thankfully, took their orders without pressing the issue further. Once she was gone, he smiled gratefully at Dipper. “Nice thinking, Dipper. Great work.” 

The boy flushed at the praise, eyes darting down to the menu as the hand rubbing his neck increased in pace. “Oh, uh! It was nothing… I just figured we probably should keep this under wraps until we get Stan back to normal.” 

Stan nodded his agreement, much more cooperative than Ford thought he’d be. “Makes sense to me, but won’t people wonder where I am? I mean, if I’m a world-famous adventurer and successful business guy an’ all…”

Right then. It would probably be best to get their stories straight before anyone else happened by. Though Ford wasn’t much good at this lying business, he knew the logic behind it. If they were all in agreement, that lessened the chances of conflicting lies, which lessened the chance of confrontation. Confrontation was certainly not something Ford’s skittish heart needed right now. 

“Simple: you’re an adventurer. Though the lull of running a business was a nice reprieve, the calls of the sea were not so easy to dismiss. You set out in search of wonder and new exhibits for your business, ready to fight any who opposed you.” 

Ford expected Stan’s eyes to light up at the very idea. It played into his dream quite handily, harkening back to days spent weaving tales on the beach. He even pitched his voice dramatically for the effect. Instead, Ford was met with a stormy expression, Stan’s lips pressed into a thin line. Ford didn’t understand. 

“An adventure without you sounds like a pretty dumb adventure,” Stan grumbled, picking at the edge of his menu. He refused to meet Ford’s eyes. “Are people really gonna buy that?”

Of course. Sailing away hadn’t just been Stan’s dream, it had been Ford’s once as well. Wherever we go, we go together. He swallowed uncomfortably. 

“Well, of course they will.” Ford reasoned, wracking his brain for a believable lie. “One of us needed to stay back and keep running the Mystery Shack. No good business can just close down, you know.” 

Stan’s scowl deepened, unconvinced and stubborn as ever. Ford found himself sighing in response. “It’s just a lie, Stanley. It doesn’t need to be realistic.”

“If anyone can make something unbelievable believable, it’s you Grunkle Stan.” Mabel pointed out, smiling. “And this time, it’s for a good cause!” 

Stan’s expression wavered at that. “I guess so. And it’s not like it’s gonna last forever…” He nodded to himself, tension easing. “It can’t be any harder than that time I convinced Mr. Carter that I ate roasted seagull for lunch every day. The look on his face was priceless!” 

The air at the table lightened some as Stan began to re-tell tales from their youth. Another forgotten aspect of his brother’s personality came to surface as he watched him, gesturing and speaking with the flair of a showman. Truly, Stan had a knack for public speaking. Ford wondered what else he had forcibly repressed about his brother. 

He might have been able to make something of himself if he wasn’t so insistent on suffocating me. A dark voice murmured in his mind. Ford dismissed it, forcing himself to focus on the present. There would be time to stew in bitter thoughts later. 

Though the children were listening with rapt attention, they were not content to play captive audiences for long. As their food arrived and the group dug in, they repaid Stan with stories of their own from their summer in Gravity Falls. It didn’t escape Ford that plenty of their tales centred around anomalies that he had recorded in his journal, nor did he miss the side glances Dipper cast his way anytime one was brought up. 

He thought back to the first time he had opened his third journal upon his return, flipping through the carefully scrawled blue words. The twins - Dipper mostly, judging on the writing - had certainly been busy this summer. The solutions they posited seemed so obvious when spelled out, how hadn’t he thought of it? 

Stan had been firm in keeping Ford away from the children for their own safety. At first, he could see the logic behind that assertion. While Gravity Falls was a wonderfully weird place, it was also dangerous to those who were unprepared. Yet the more Ford read the journal, the more capable the children became in his eyes. Hearing the stories firsthand merely solidified the notion in his mind. Stan was just being overprotective. 

If they were going to turn Stan back to his proper age, then he was going to need to work with the children, deal be damned. If he happened to get closer to and bond with them along the way, then that was just a logical and inescapable outcome. Stan couldn’t fault him for that, not when it was for his own good. 

Besides, these children were his family too. Stan had no right to hold them hostage from him. 

---------------------------------------------

The past few hours had been such a whirlwind, Stanley was having trouble processing. To start the day on the beach and finish it in a small town smack dab in the middle of a forest? It didn’t feel real. More than once, Stan would dig his fingernails into his arm when he felt like no one was paying attention, just to see if he was dreaming after all. No luck. 

Don’t get him wrong, he was interested in this new life he seemed to have made for himself! His great-niece and nephew seemed really nice (even if it was weird to think that kids around his age were actually younger than him?), and the fact he was a businessman now was an unexpected delight. But it just wasn’t the same without Ford here by his side to experience it with him. 

Ford may be around, but he wasn’t really around. He was older and wiser and sure, he was still the same old Pointdexter, but it just wasn’t the same. Experiencing this sudden environment shift on his own, after doing everything with his twin before, was a change Stan wasn’t ready to face. Beneath the bravado and excitement, Stan couldn’t stop himself from feeling terribly anxious. 

Riding in the backseat of an admittedly neat looking car (“It’s your car, Grunkle Stan!”), wedged between unfamiliar family, Stan could feel those anxieties creeping back up to the forefront once more. He had been to the woods before on a school trip, but never at night. The trees looming through the windows looked dark and foreboding without the sun, like they could swallow you up and no one would hear from you again. He had to resist the urge to shrink back into Dipper’s side. 

Ugh, what kind of wimp was he? Pa would likely scold him if he knew. ‘Belt up, boy. A Pines man doesn’t hide from danger.’ Of course, that thought just made him homesick. What he wouldn’t give to tuck himself into Ma’s arms right about now. 

But Pa was right. He was a Pines man, and a Pines man didn’t hide. He pointedly squashed down his fears and, instead, asked about the pig Mabel had called Waddles. The girl lit up with a dazzling smile and spoke at length about how wonderful he was, showing him picture after picture that she had saved in the pockets of her sweater. Dipper assured him this was only a fraction of the pictures she had, the rest having found a home in her scrapbook. Stan believed him.

Maybe Stan didn’t have Ford here to face this unknown situation with, but Dipper and Mabel made good company. Though he wouldn’t trade Ford for the world, it was nice to have other people to call friends for once. He closed his eyes as he listened to the two talk, allowing himself to be soothed by their voices. 

If they and Ford weren’t afraid right now, then he had no reason to be either.

He hadn’t realized he had dozed off until he heard the sounds of car doors opening. He opened his eyes, blinking blearily and scrambling to get out of the car. Looks like they were back at the Mystery Shack (his business, wasn’t that so neat?). Man, how long had he been out? Hopefully, the others hadn’t noticed.

As they made their way into the house - coming in through a different door this time, though Stan guessed that wasn’t really important - Ford clapped his hands together. “Alright then, Stanley. Let’s get you situated and off to bed.”

Darn. He must have noticed.

“What? But it’s only -” Stan paused, looking over at the clock on the wall “- 8! It’s not even close to bedtime, and I’m not even tired!”

Ford shot him a stern look, looking much more like Pa than Ford. Stan felt himself instinctually straighten. “Let’s say, for the sake of argument, I believe that you aren’t tired. That doesn’t change the fact that you’ve been through quite an ordeal, mentally and physically. Your body and mind need time to recharge. You don’t want to get sick, do you?”

As usual, Ford was making a good point. That didn’t stop Stan from crossing his arms and scuffing the floor with his shoe, most assuredly not pouting. Stan didn’t pout. Pouting was for babies. 

Apparently satisfied with Stan’s silence, Ford turned his attention to the other two. “While I’m attending to that, do you two mind fetching me my remaining two journals? They should be down in the lab.” 

Dipper’s eyes widened at Ford’s request, looking like a kid on Christmas. Were Ford’s nerd scribbles really that interesting? “O-Okay!” He stammered out before turning on his heel, racing out of the room. Mabel was hot on his heels, calling after him to slow down and wait for her. 

Stan watched the two until they disappeared down the hall. “Journals, huh? Isn’t that kinda like a diary?” He asked, turning to where Ford was standing. Keyword: was. Turns out, his brother was already halfway up the stairs. Looks like he had decided to take a leaf out of Dipper’s book. Stan frowned at that and hastened to follow.

Ford stayed quiet as they journeyed through the house, scarcely seeming to notice that Stan was following at all. He looked lost in thought, which Stan supposed wasn’t all that out of place. Ford was usually thinking about something, and sometimes he’d get so lost in that big brain of his that he stopped noticing his surroundings. Usually, that only happened when he was faced with a really hard problem. 

Maybe Stan’s situation was hard too? It seemed hard to Stan, but Stan was never all that bright to begin with. For Ford’s sake, he stayed quiet too.

Eventually, the pair stopped outside a door. Luckily, Ford seemed to snap out of whatever daze he had been in. “Ah, yes, here we are,” He said, opening the door and gesturing inside. “This is your room. You can sleep here while I work on getting you back to normal.”

The first thing that Stan noticed was that it was dark. Maybe it was just because the lights were off, but the dark felt different somehow; suffocating, almost. The curtains on the window were drawn tight, preventing any moonlight from brightening the room. The light that did spill in from the hallway illuminated the dusty air and the general state of disarray the room was in. 

If Stan had to describe it, it seemed sad. Was this really the room he slept in as an adult?

Ford continued talking, sounding way too casual after revealing such a dim place. “Now I doubt you have any children clothes here, but I don’t anticipate Dipper having an issue with you borrowing some of his. If everything goes well, I should have you back to normal in a few days, so it won’t be an issue for long. The children sleep in the attic and I’ll be sleeping in the room down the hall, so we won’t be far if you need anyth--”

“Wait.” Stan cut in, realization dawning. No wonder there’s only one bed. “You’re not sleeping with me?”  

He turned to look straight up at Ford, watching as his brother’s eyes immediately looked off to the side. He had that sad look on his face again, a look that Stan was starting to realize showed up quite frequently now. It made him wonder if he was the one causing that look. 

“No, Stanley.” He eventually said, reaching up to push his glasses further up his face. It was a nervous habit, one Stan could easily recognize. “We haven’t slept in the same room for a very long time. Adults need their own space.” 

Stan wanted to argue that. Ma and Pa shared a room - heck, they shared a bed! - why couldn’t he and Ford? Yet taking another look at his brother, Stan once again remembered that this Ford wasn’t really his. This Ford was basically a stranger to him, and Stan hated it. Sharing a room would probably just make the strangeness even more apparent.

It was Stan’s turn to avoid eye contact, staring into the room instead. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ford’s features softening a little. Soon enough, the familiar six-fingered weight was settling on Stan’s shoulder. The fingers were bigger and rougher now, but the gesture was still the same. It felt like Ford was drawing out the tension through touch alone. 

“I know it’s new and frightening, but I promise you’ll get used to it.” He said, stooping down so he was level with Stan. His lips twitched up into a slight smile. “As I said, I’m not far away, okay? If something happens, you can still come to me. Just because we don’t share a room anymore doesn’t mean I won’t be there for you.” 

Of course, what was he thinking? Ford might be old and strange right now, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still his brother. He really shouldn’t be expecting so little of him. Just because he was sleeping here alone didn’t mean Ford didn’t have his back. 

It’s just temporary. The room is weird but you can do this. You’ve taken on worse. 

Stan took a breath and let the weight on his shoulder strengthen him. It was hard to feel afraid when he had someone at his side and a slow, shy smile spread across his face. He turned to face his twin, holding up his hand in mutual solidarity. No matter how many years separated them now, surely this was universal. This couldn’t be tainted by the strangeness. 

“High-six?” 

Instead of immediately raising his hand and completing the gesture, Ford just stared blankly at it. One moment passed, then another, and Stan’s smile began to flicker. Ford had that look in his eye again, that sad, far-away look. Stan decided he hated it more than he hated the room. 

Subconscious now, Stan lowered his hand. Maybe he had been wrong after all. Stan couldn’t imagine it; in what reality could he achieve his dream while everything he shared with his brother was suddenly different? Was it just inevitable? 

“I-I’m sorry, Stanley.” Ford finally stammered, removing his hand from his shoulder to card anxiously through his hair. “It’s been… A trying day for me, too. I hope you can understand.”

Stanley didn’t, not entirely. 

Maybe… Things were just different because Ford had lost someone, too. Maybe he felt this same strangeness in reverse, looking for the adult version of his missing half. Stan didn’t really know how he’d feel in Ford’s shoes, so it seemed probable to him.

Either way, he put on a smile and reached over to put a hand on Ford’s shoulder too. His hand was much smaller and probably lacked the same satisfying, grounding weight to it, but he hoped it helped anyways. “Course I do, Pointdexter,” He lied. “But it’s okay. We can be here for each other, just like always.” 

Ford inhaled softly at the touch, but didn’t immediately move away. Stan took that as a good sign and remained there, allowing the silence to stretch for as long as Ford needed it. 

The moment passed soon after and Ford straightened once more, letting Stan’s hand fall away. Stan understood; Pines men didn’t just sit there and whimper. If you had time to cry, you had time to fight. That was what Pa had always said. 

Feeling lighter, Stan dutifully crawled into the too-big bed without any further complaint. For the time being, he didn’t even notice the heaviness. Now that he was really laying down, the exhaustion that he had been fighting since the diner was returning with a vengeance. He had just enough energy to turn onto his side, looking at where Ford stood in the doorway. 

“G’night, Ford.” He murmured, eyes already closing. 

Whatever Ford’s response was, if there was any at all, fell on deaf ears. Stan was fast asleep before he knew what hit him. 

--------------------------

Far away from the odd little family, in a dimension nothing like theirs, a being contemplates the scene he has just witnessed. The little display was disgustingly saccharine, almost making him sick to his proverbial stomach.

Still, the advantage that had just been handed to him was well worth enduring that little sob fest. He leans away from his handy eavesdropping orb, hands clasped at his back. 

“And here I thought my conquest was going to be difficult.” He thought aloud, unable to stop himself from cackling. After enduring those embarrassing defeats at the hands of those meddlesome twins, this break was exactly what he was looking for. 

It was time to exploit that six-fingered freak’s kryptonite: Stanley Pines. 

[toooldforfandom-liveblogs]

Gravity Falls S02E19 - Weirdmageddon 2: Escape From Reality

Last episode ended in the cruelest cliffhanger with Dipper, Wendy and Soos jumping into the bubble to rescue Mabel. I can't wait to find out what happens so let's do this!

I was thinking "this looks way too calm for Grav–" and then this happened.

I hope that goat is not eating Stan.

Also, "Day 4"? When did a day pass? Was it between Dipper meeting Wendy and Fury Road or between entering the bubble and now?

Deep religion takes

There's no way Gravity Falls has this many people. It's probably like the cheap furniture I have, styrofoam covered with the thinnest plastic laminate they can get away with. But with people.

It's weird that the world hasn't noticed this. At least the TV station should have been received in another town/state, right?

Huh.

Has this bubble always existed? That would explain why all the past (and current) weirdness seems so contained to Gravity Falls. Or was it something Ford did at some point in the past? I guess this explains why the world has no idea what's happening.

A bubble inside a bubble. I'm really curious about why Bill bubbled Mabel instead of just making her part of his throne. Even Ford got petrified, so why is Mabel so special?

Dipper "Did you miss Part I?" Pines

Soos is such a good guy. He may be choking Dipper and Wendy but I don't doubt for a second that he really believes what he is saying here. He'd self-sacrifice in a second if it meant saving his friends. He really deserved more than mostly being the butt of jokes.

Why trap Mabel in a Lotus-Eater machine? Hell, Bill had no issues giving Dipper to his friends to eat, why keep Mabel alive (and happy)?

Can't wait for the ultimate reveal that Mabel is the most powerful of the twins and needs to be contained.

Alternatively the bubble is made of Smile Dip

Aw, she still doesn't want summer to end to the point that in her ideal world is always summer.

Totoro and ducktective!

...what happened to the original Waddles anyway?

mhm

Narrator: they break it

What could it be? Something about Dipper? Something that could make Mabel remember the real world?

I see what you're doing here

Adventure Time, 2010

holy shit

Later on court, "it was self defense! I saw a gun!"

Aw poop. I was hoping it wouldn't going to go this way. But I guess it makes sense, before this Mabel was having a pretty awful day so going full on denial is pretty understandable.

...wow, I have no words.

Who doesn't?

Maybe start explaining the literal apocalypse that's going on outside? Because that attitude is exactly why Mabel had to make Dippy Fresh.

I went back to look at the throne again and I'm pretty sure at least Tambry is there (with Robbie)

Her friends not being real feels weirdly manipulative but I think it's the bubble that summoned them, not Mabel.

Yeah, whoa. That's low. Really low.

Oof.

That makes me wonder if the Mabel that Dipper found is not really Mabel. Just the Mabel that Dipper thought he'd find.

I was a bit suspicious but Wendy mentioning Dipper's "thing" makes it obvious that she's a fantasy. Is this what Dipper really wants?

That's nice.

Okay, I wasn't very enthused about this plot but this is winning me back fast.

I haven't written much because I can't decide if the court is the dumbest or the greatest thing. But showing events from before Gravity Falls is interesting.

oh no

If this is how they start, it wouldn't surprise me if Dipper ends up wanting to stay and Mabel is the one who breaks everyone out.

This is really good _but_ I wish (as it's probably obvious from what I've written) that it was Mabel who rescued/convinced Dipper somehow. Emotional intelligence was her thing and now that Dipper had to step up (last episode and now), where does that leave her? I hope next episode they at least team up again.

I can't deny that these "completed" flashbacks got to me.

something something cancel culture

It _was_ the real waddles!

I _really_ appreciate Mabel saying this. Dipper is probably still going to say no but Mabel acknowledging that Dipper _is_ sacrificing an opportunity for her is a lot better than just assuming it's all good.

Everything in this screenshot is amazing but I can't stop looking at Road Warrior Grenda. And Pacifica is alive! And why is Stan wearing the mayor's sash?

This is the last place I expected to hear about Sartre. What a great joke.

WHEN ONE GETS TRAPPED INSIDE THE PAST

DREAMS CAN TURN TO NIGHTMARES FAST

---

I want to like this episode. It was funny, interesting and the emotional climax was great. But, I'm not sure if I do. Actually, I'd say I like it but I don't love it.

There's something in the execution of the "the bubble is Mabel's dream world" plot that fell flat for me. I can't even say it's because Mabel was out of character because she wasn't, there's a direct line between her behavior here and what happened to her before.

I guess I just wanted more from Mabel rather than her getting rescued from herself.

Other than that, it was a great episode, still creating more questions than answers even though there's only one episode left. For example, who made the bubble? Has it always been there or is it something that Ford made? Or, what do the symbols mean? Why trap Mabel instead of feeding her to one of his friends? And the most important of all questions, how did Waddles get into the bubble with Mabel?

Can't wait for the next episode! It's double-length so I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to post it on Friday, next Wednesday is a surer bet, but who knows? Until next time!

Note from the future: @princezilla​ reminded me about the deal that Bill made with Mabel, which explains why he bubbled her instead of just killing her and makes a lot of my comments kinda dumb in retrospect but oh well.

PS: She-Ra and Steven Universe Future are coming soon.

[rmjagonshi]

Whole Again - Chapter 22 A Family in Waiting

Whole Again on AO3

Mason hears Mabel leave the room with the tablet before he opens his eyes. But he doesn’t follow. He wants to talk to Ford, but…there really isn’t much left to say. He doesn’t know how to feel about this. He doesn’t know how to feel about his uncle. He’s mad at him. More so tonight than any other. His behavior the last few weeks has been…unsettling. He’s become aggressive…violent and dismissive of anything or anyone who doesn’t outright agree with his hypotheses.

Mason still believes that Ford is one of the most brilliant minds of their time, but he’s starting to realize just how egotistical and brutal of a person that brilliance can foster.

The worst part, is that Mason can’t be sure that he’s not wrong. If it really is Bill, then all of this ‘zero-tolerance’ response is justified. If Bill really did take over Stan, and Stan isn’t in control anymore, then it would make sense to keep their distance, to do everything they can to keep Bill contained.

But…he isn’t…Mason doesn’t want to believe that it’s Bill. Stan hasn’t done anything out of the ordinary. Well, no, that isn’t true, Stan had done a lot of things lately that are bizarre and impossible for the average person. But, it’s always been…well, as Stan. He’s always been ‘in character’, as it were.

He pulls Fox Stan into his lap and does his best not to lift the red knit cap from over its eyes. He doesn’t know if Mabel glued the yellow eyes over the fox’s brown ones. He doesn’t want to know. He’s scared. He’s scared and left in the dark more often than not. He should follow Mabel, demand answers, but he just can’t.

If everything is left in limbo, if he doesn’t know what is really going on, then he can pretend that everything is fine. He can pretend that everything will work out for the best. He’s afraid to talk to Ford because he knows what Ford is going to say. He knows how this plays out. And he wants to live in this blissful limbo of not knowing for just a little longer.

Just a little more of normal, just a little more of imagining his grunkles sailing all over the world and having adventures and hearing about all the excitement.

Mason clutches Fox Stan tight to his chest buries his face into the grey synthetic fur. He’s angry at Ford for not trying to get along with Stan, even after he promised the twins over and over that they wouldn’t fight anymore. He’s angry that Ford can’t even listen to them. He knows Ford spent the most time with Bill, but they fought him too. And won multiple times. It’s almost as if Ford can’t accept that anyone but himself can understand things.

A creak in the floor boards lets him know that Mabel is on her way back. He doesn’t know if he’s able to talk to her just yet. Too many things swirling in his head, and too many feelings screaming at each other in his heart. He throws the blanket over his head and lays flat just as Mabel opens the door to their shared room. He clutches Fox Stan tighter. He hears cloth moving, papers shuffling and finally the creak of the door again.

Mabel had a theory. A good one. One Mason isn’t sure he can let himself fully grasp. The very thought that the person he’d come to know and love last summer was a lie…

He curled tighter around Fox Stan. His gut wrenched and he felt his eyes sting. Mabel had cried enough for all four of them, but he guessed it was his turn to carry the family grief. Tears dripped from his clenched eyes, soaking Fox Stan’s knitted red cap.

He’d seen it too.

Stan becoming Bill.

Just before he’d fallen back in his own mindscape, (a giant journal with moving pictures, and fold out pages, and invisible ink) he’d seen Stan change.

Mason didn’t have the emotional capacity to deal with those thoughts anytime soon. Instead, he crawled out of bed and crossed their book and paper strewn floor to Mabel’s purple sheets and unicorn bedspread. He curled up against the wall and waited.

A brief feeling of shame kicked him in the spine even as he made himself comfortable amongst the filly pillows and stuffed animals. They were thirteen. He was way too old to be running off to his sister’s bed when he felt scared or upset.

But the rational part of his brain told that shame to take a hike. Things were different now. Life just got a lot harder. And he’s man enough to admit that he’s not ok with this. Not that he thinks Mabel is fairing any better, but two people being miserable together is better than being miserable alone.

Their parents weren’t handling it well either, though denial was one heck of a drug. Better than any Smile Dip. His parents had called up to Gravity Falls and had gotten ahold of Soos. After a phone call that he had reluctantly not eavesdropped on, their parents stopped asking them what was wrong. No more doctor’s appointments and no more counselors. And both he and Mabel were happy to not have to take any more pills.

He heard the door click again and sat up to see Mabel tucking away her bag and the tablet. She paused a moment, avoiding his gaze before she patted Waddles’ sleeping form and climbing in beside him. She sat for a long time with her knees to her chest, staring at the door and not speaking. Though anxious, Mason waited. Limbo and ignorance and all of that. But Limbo was never meant to be permanent.

“Stan stabbed out his eye.”

It was like he had been thrust through the ice into Gravity Falls Lake. He couldn’t even form words. A strangled gasp worked its way from his throat to hang in the air between them.

Mabel turned away from him, but her voice was clear.

“Grunkle Ford said Stan got angry and hurt himself. He broke everything in Ford’s lab and cut out his eye. Ford says he’s gonna be ok, well, not okay okay, but he’ll live.”

Mason simply blinked, mouth agape and eyes boring into the back of his sister’s head. But she refused to look at him. His fingers tangled in the purple duvet and he felt a thread snap. A flurry of purple and shades of pink and white arced in the air as Mason flung off the duvet and landed on the floor. He kicked at the scattered books in frustration, waking Waddles who snorted indignantly. Mason ignored the pig.

“None of this makes any sense! I get Bill. I don’t, but he makes more sense than this. I hate being left in the dark! What set him off? Why would Bill do that? It puts him at a disadvantage. Could it be to scare Ford? But Ford said he’s stronger than Bill…unless he’s lying. Is he lying? Mabel do you…think…”

Mabel was staring at the door again, unaffected by her brother’s tirade. He took a few steps closer.

“Mabel?”  

“Dipper, I don’t think Ford is okay.” Her voice was so quiet, he wasn’t sure he’d heard her. But before he could ask, she continued. “I told him what I found out. You know, about reincarnation. And how Grunkle Stan fits. He listened to me this time. But I don’t think he can believe it yet.”

Well that was something. Grunkle Ford actually listening to someone else for once. But it was more progress than they had made in days. They were out of resources and out of ideas. There was only so much two thirteen years old could do with internet access and a public library. Mason was even tempted to jump a bus and head back to Gravity Falls to see if any of the forest creatures could help. Next to Grunkle Ford, they were the only ones who understood magic. If this even was magic.

Mason picked up the duvet and placed it back on the bed before kneeling beside Mabel. She still wouldn’t look at him.    

“There’s something else you aren’t telling me. What do you mean ‘He can’t believe it yet’?”

“Ford asked me not to tell you.” Mason opened his mouth to retort that this was exactly how they had gotten into the whole mess in the first place when she finished. “He wants to tell you himself. He just doesn’t know if he’s ready yet. He wasn’t ready to tell me, it just sorta came out.” Even though she hid her face in her knees, he caught the blush forming on her cheeks. She was embarrassed. Mabel being embarrassed about something was something to be worried about. What would make Mabel embarrassed and Ford stressed? Surprisingly little existed in that overlap. Almost nothing. Unless…

“Is it about what Mom was scared of?”

“What? Gosh no. I didn’t even tell him about that. But you really should talk to him. This is…is something kinda important. If he doesn’t tell you on his own…I’ll give him a week. Okay?” She looked sad. No, not sad, like she pitied him. Very suddenly, Mason was not looking forwards to speaking with his Great Uncle.

“I don’t like keeping things from you. Especially after what happened. But this is…personal, I guess.” Personal? For Ford? But, Ford had already told him about his history with Bill. Unless there was something else? Was it Stan, then? He was getting lost in his own conjectures.  

Mason took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay. I’ll wait for Ford to tell me.” His mind was already going in a direction he wasn’t really comfortable with anyway.

“There’s something else.” Mason snapped his head up at Mabel’s words. Something else? What more could be happening?

Mabel had turned away again, picking at the fuzz that always developed on the underside of her blankets. “I asked Ford to tell you his secret, but I gotta tell you mine too.”

Mason pinched the bridge of his nose, trying in vain to relive the pressure he knew was going to be there. He knew what she was going to say. As soon as she had said it, he knew what was wrong. More frustration added to the already overflowing pit in his gut. It just never ended, did it?

“I still have some Smile Dip.”

He’d suspected. Mabel had spent the whole month being cheery and decorating the house in streamers, glitter and fake snow. She’d been pushing everyone to ‘get into the holiday spirit’. He had hoped it was just run of the mill sugar, but there was always the worry that it was the horrid super sugar she’d found in the old convenience store. Ford had even tested it. It was super refined and had three times as much glucose as regular sugar per gram. They even banned it in America because it had trace components of coca extract.

And she had promised him that she would get rid of it. She had given him the purse stuffed with the candy and he had dissolved it in a bucket of water before tossing it down the storm drain. She swore that she had given him all of it. Even going so far as to show her hands so he knew she hadn’t lied.

So much for not keeping secrets.  

“Why? Why on Earth? Mabel, you said you were going to get rid of it. You could get hurt! What about cousin Mia? She had a seizure and went to rehab! Is that what you want?”

“No!” She shouted, before covering her mouth. They both glanced at the boor and listened. Only the rattling of the wind outside echoed through the house. Their parents were still asleep.

Mason gave one last lingering glance at the door before turning back to Mabel.

“Then why!?” He wanted to throw something.

She was crying freely now, hiding her face in her arms. Even Waddles, who had woken at the commotion and climbed up on the bed to paw at Mabel’s legs, couldn’t calm her down.  

“I just need to be happy, okay! I just am so tired of feeling sad and miserable All. The. Time.” Each word punctuated by fists to her temples.

It was true though. No one had been happy really. Not since Ford had called them about Stan just over a month ago. Both of them, their parents, Grandma and Grandpa and Great Grandma Caryn. The world wasn’t ending, not yet, but everything seemed to be going wrong anyway.

Mason slowly sat on the edge of the bed. He waited a brief moment before wrapping an arm around his sister’s shoulders. “Being happy all the time isn’t good either. Especially when it isn’t real.” He combed his fingers through her hair. He wasn’t sure how, because they used the same shampoo, but Mabel’s hair always smelled like gumdrops. He rested his cheek against her head, as she began to rock back and forth. “There are still things to be happy about.” A quiet scoff was her only response.

“Mabel, we’ve been hanging out more, heck, we’ve spent all of holiday break together doing research. You got to audition for the high-school drama club. Mom and Dad are talking about a trip to ComicCon in April. We found a vet who knowns pigs and who can make sure Waddles is healthy. Candy and Grenda are coming to visit over Spring Break. So many things to be happy about.” She still wouldn’t look at him. Waddles had given up his nudging at Mabel’s legs and instead laid down at the foot of the bed.

He sighed. “Mabel, It’s Christmas Eve. We’re having Christmas with Grandma and Grandpa and Great-Grandma Caryn today. I know things are hard, but can’t you put aside being sad for one day.” It was one of the happiest times of the year; Mabel had proclaimed it herself. There was no way he was going to let her be upset. If it meant putting up with all of her Christmas Party shenanigans, then he’d do it happily.  

“I don’t deserve it.”

“What…?” The clockwork in his mind screeched to a halt. Gears clinking and springs coming loose. Mabel turned towards him, hair smacking him in the face.  

“I don’t, Dipper.” He eye were dark and bruised and bloodshot. Tiny teardrops worked their way from the corners of her eyes. Dried tear streaks carved paths down her cheeks. She wanted to cry, but there was nothing left. “I wanted to hang onto summer so bad that I put everyone in danger. And when I woke up in that bubble, I knew what was happening. Bill told me himself what the bubble was. I just…” Mabel pulled away from him. Her hands found the pastel pillow behind her and she swung it repeatedly against the wall as she spoke.

“I knew he’d won. And I didn’t want to leave. Why leave when everything was wrong. Even if you guys won against Bill, I still thought I was saying ‘goodbye’ to everything that was important to me. So why not just stay?” Her swings were picking up speed now. Pillow colliding with all the drawings and photographs hung up on her wall. She didn’t seem to care when they started tearing through the tacks and tape and fluttering to the bed. “I was happy there. I could hide away from every bad thing I’d ever done. Instead, I could fix everything. And I did. I made it so everyone could live together. I fixed everything! Pacifica was nice. Gideon was nice. MaGucket didn’t erase his memories. I fixed Lazy Susan’s eye. Stan adopted Soos. I made Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford happy together!” She had finally run out of steam when the last photo of the four of them tore off the wall. Mabel knelt on the bed amongst the destruction, clutching the pillow to her.  

“That’s what I was going to show you. After Soos and Wendy ran off. I was going to show you how happy Stan and Ford could be.”

“But it wasn’t the real Stan and Ford. Ford was captured. I didn’t even know where Stan was.”

“I know it wasn’t.” She buried her face in the push pillow. “I know. None of it was real. But I was willing to put everyone in danger for it. Is this what Grunkle Ford feels like?”

Mason sighed, scooting more to the center of the bed. “I don’t know about that. But, Mabel, you set it right. You did fix things. Maybe nothing was the way you wanted it, but everyone was happy. You do deserve to be happy. You gotta know that people care about you?” She didn’t respond.  

“Okay, fine. How about this? Stan has done I can’t even count how many bad things. He didn’t even want to save Ford in the first place. And we still care about him.” Still no response.

“Okay, better example. Ford made the deal with Bill in the first place, right? So, none of this would have happened if he hadn’t. So, it’s Ford’s fault. And Stan’s. And yours…” He paused, taking a slow breath. “And mine.”

That got her attention. Mabel peeked out from behind the pillow, eyes wide and questioning.  

“I made a deal with Bill too. I know he tricked me and we beat him, but I still did it. And I did it even knowing that he sided with Gideon to get the Mystery Shack.” He still hadn’t gotten over doing that. Bill had done a lot of damage to his body. They had spent that evening in the emergency room. While he didn’t have any broken bones, Mason still had a scar on his collar. It wasn’t deep and healed quick, but the mark had never gone away.

But this was about Mabel. “So, we’re all bad. Are the three of us undeserving of being happy, of having people care about us?” Mason knew it was underhanded, but this was important. He needed to make sure Mabel understood that they were in this together.

“No, of course not!”

“Then why not you?”

She still couldn’t answer. But Mason knew he had gotten through. It wasn’t going to be over night, but they would get better. They would get through this together. And the first step, was to start off the day right.  

“Okay, the first thing we’re going to do, is go dump all that Smile Dip. ALL OF IT! And then, we are going to go down stairs and have Mabel-cakes. I’ll even let you add the edible glitter. Then we are going to have Christmas with Grandma and Grandpa and we are going to be extra happy. Because even if things are hard now, they can always get better. ‘No where to go but up’, right?”

Mabel gave him a watery smile, eyes far to bruised to cry anymore. Mason held out a hand to her and pulled her up off the bed. They would clean up their room later, after Christmas. Maybe. Waddles was already waiting at the door to be let out.

Mabel picked up a nail file from the nightstand and walked over to the lightswitch. She unscrewed the bottom and swung it sideways to reveal a string taped to the wall and dropping behind it. Four packets of Smile Dip were hooked onto the end hidden in the wall. They looked creased and squashed, like they had been stuffed and forgotten about in the bottom of a bag or jacket pocket for months. Mabel handed the packets to him along with the nail file. Mason made a mental note to check all the outlets for more in the coming days.  

They walked across the hall to the bathroom and both he and Mabel tore open the packets and emptied them all into the toilet. Mabel stared as the multiple colors and torn paper swirled together over and over until the water pulled everything down. Mason gave her a quizzical look. She sighed and nodded, giving him a small smile. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders again, steering her back to the hall and down stairs.    

“Hey, Mom told Grandpa what’s going on. So, everyone knows. We don’t have to deal with this alone anymore, Mabel.”

*~*

It was Christmas Eve morning, just before dawn, and Diane was sitting at the dining room table with a mostly empty pot of coffee. It wasn’t her first.

She had called up to Gravity Falls just under a month prior and had spoken to Jesus Ramírez, current owner and proprietor of the Mystery Shack. He was at first reluctant to talk, dismissing the ghost stores and tales of monsters and chalking it up to small town folk tales. She had pressed further.

“I don’t think you understand the situation Mr. Ramirez. My children are waking up most nights with nightmares they won’t discuss with me. I have taken them to a child trauma counselor and I was told my thirteen-year-old daughter should be screened for depression and my son has been prescribed anti-psychotics. I’m tempted to call a lawyer and press charges against Stan Pines if I don’t get some answers!”

That had done it.

Jesus had relented, asking her to sit down and telling her a condensed story of the summer her children experienced in Gravity Falls. Everything from lake monster robots, to tiny living golfballs, to gnomes and merpeople, living videogames and zombies, and finally, the demon known as Bill.

“Look, I know it’s hard to believe, but that’s how it is here, miss. Weird things happen, like all the time. People are just used to it. And no one is really ready to deal with what happened. The mayor even went and made it a law that you can’t talk about it. They even came up with code words so people can talk to their therapists without breaking the law. But I got some pictures and some scans from Ford’s old journal tucked away. Guess Stan forgot to take it with them. I can send ‘em to ya. Dipper might want ‘em too.”

He sounded…so…rational, about the whole thing. Like this was just a normal thing to happen. Hearing it from her children was one thing. Seeing pictures that may or may not have been photoshopped and hearing about it from a rational adult was another. Diane had half held out hope that this was all just some sort of teenage hyper-fixation on some fantasy thing the kids had played the past summer. But she couldn’t deny it anymore. Not when the proof was staring her in the face.    

“And, Miss? I know they’re your kids, and, and I know that Stan’s your family, and I respect that. But…Stan’s been there for me since I was like eight. He taught me how to drive, and he tried to teach me how to box. He means a lot to me. I know he’s not my real dad, but he might as well be. So…I guess, believe me when I say that Stan wouldn’t do anything to hurt those kids. Ford neither.”

She had accepted it. She had to. One could only deny what they were seeing and hearing so long before they were considered mad. So here she was. Sitting at the kitchen table, onto her third pot of coffee after having been up since four in the morning. Dan had stepped out for a smoke. Dan never smoked. Not since college. But some things called for bad habits. And tis was most definitely one of them.

She had the pictures Jesus had sent her spread out on the kitchen table. Not all of them were clear, in fact most of them were fuzzy and filled with static, or had a badly place finger. But one stood out. It seemed to be from inside a building, through a red window. A giant sentient pyramid with one eye and eight arms. It terrified her more than it should. And this monster might be back?

She’d scanned everything she had and e-mailed it all to Sherman, Marianne, and Caryn. Calling her father-in-law and informing them about what was happening half a world away had been one of the hardest things she had ever done. But her son and daughter were right, they deserved to know. And while none of them were completely convinced, (hell, she wasn’t completely convinced, and she had photographs sitting in front of her) they were all waiting on contact from Ford and…and Stan, to confirm.

It was bizarre to think about. That her Uncle Stan, nevermind that it was Stanley and not Stanford, might not even be himself. The pyramid monster stared up at her from the photograph. It felt like it was watching her. But that was stupid. It was just a photograph. But…well, it was best to put everything away before her children woke-up. They were going to spend the day with Sherman, Marianne and Caryn today. No matter what, they were going to celebrate like a normal family. She took a deep breath and scooped all the photos back in the envelope, tucked it under her arm and went to pour out the old coffee. Her children’s voices echoed coming down the stairs.  

-End Chapter 22-

Previous

Next

Chapter 1

[livingthe24framelife]

Christmas At the Falls: Part 3

Wendy Cordory was bored out of her mind. Stan had said that he wanted to keep the gift shop open one more day in case someone came in for last minute Chirstmas shopping. The problem was no one had come in the past two hours. “Why are we even here?” she wondered. “Who buys gifts on Christmas Eve?” Wendy closed her eyes and leaned her chair against the back wall, trying to relax. She was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn’t hear the door bell jingle. At first, Wendy thought it was a costumer, but she nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard the voice of someone she hadn’t seen in six months.

“Anyone lose a hat?”   

“Dipper! Mabel!” Wendy cried out. “Holy cow, you’re really here!“ She raced over and all three kids hugged. “Stan told me you were coming, but I didn’t know when!” she exclaimed. Dipper rubbed his neck. “Yeah, sorry we didn’t come here yesterday. We’ve been busy.” Wendy grinned. “Well, you guys are here now and that’s all I care about.” Mabel looked around the shop. “Where’s Soos?” she asked. “In the back.” Wendy said. “Yo Soos!” she called out. “Get in here we’ve got some special guests!” Out of the storage room came a heavy set man wearing Stan’s old Mystery Shack outfit, fez hat and all. At first, he looked confused, but once he saw the twins he smiled. “Dudes!” he said. The twins ran over and embraced the big man. Suddenly, another person came out of one of the other rooms. Her name was Melody, Soos’ girlfriend. “Oh, hi guys.” she said with a wave. “Melody!” Mabel said shocked. “You work here?” Melody smiled. “Yep, got the job a few months ago. The fact my boyfriend runs the place helped.” Soos walked over to Melody and held her. Mabel grinned ear to ear and fist pumped. ‘Yes! Another match made!” Wendy and Dipper just rolled their eyes. “So.” Soos chimed in. “What’s been going on with you two?” Dipper frowned. “Mom and Dad met Ford.” he explained. “I think Dad’s OK with it, but Mom..isn’t.” He sighed. “She still thinks Stan’s crazy and hates the town.” A silence filled the room. Then Wendy spoke up. "Hey, I'm sure your folks will come around eventually. I mean, after everything that's happened, how can you not like this place?" Dipper smiled a bit. "I hope you're right Wendy. I really do."

After a few more minutes of chit-chat, Dipper and Mabel waved goodbye to the three friends and went back to the house. They were expecting to see their parents at the kitchen table. Instead, they found Stan and Ford. “Morning.” Dipper said to the two brothers. “Where’s mom and dad?” Stan thought for a moment. “I think they said something about taking a walk in the woods.” Dipper’s pupils shrunk in horror. “Wait, they went into the woods?” he asked, voice shaking. “Yeah.” Stan said. “Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll back soon.” Dipper shook his head. “But there are tons of monsters out there and they don’t know it. They could be killed!” Looks of shock appeared on the rest of the Pines family’s faces. Without another word, they all raced to get their weapons. 

Meanwhile, Jeffrey and Carolyn were strolling down a hardly noticeable trail in the forest. “I still don’t know about this place, Jeff.” Carol said. “Everything feels off around here.” Like his kids, Jeff had also been hoping Carolyn would change her mind about Gravity Falls. “There’s gotta be something you like about this place.” Carol shut her eyes and sighed. “If there is, I haven’t found it yet.” The couple’s walk came to a halt when Jeff heard rustling nearby. “Did you hear something?” he asked. Carol didn’t have time to respond, because in that moment, a creature lunged at them. 

A scream echoed throughout the woods. Dipper who, along with Mabel, Stan and Ford had been running at top speed trying to find his parents stopped in their tracks. “That sounded like Mom!” Mabel cried out. Following the sound, the group made it to Carol and Jeff, who were being attacked by a manticore. “Kids, get your parents out of here, we’ll deal with this freak.” Stan ordered. Dipper and Mabel ran over to their mom and dad. Grabbing their arms, the four of them ran out of the clearing and towards the direction of the Shack, leaving Stan and Ford behind. The last sounds the kids heard before going out of earshot was lasers blasting and punches landing.  

The Pines family ran for what seemed like forever, until finally making it to the Shack. Dipper and Mabel helped Jeffrey and Carolyn to the porch so they could catch their breath. “Wha-What was that thing?” Carol said as she gasped for air. Dipper looked downward. “Uh...a manticore.” he said nervously. Carol frowned. “Are you saying there are monsters out in those woods?” Dipper was too scared to say anything. The sound of leaves moving suddenly broke the silence. For a moment, everyone thought the manticore had followed them. Luckily, it was just Stan and Ford, who looked worse for wear. “I think we got him.” Stan declared confidently. His smile dissipated when he saw Mrs. Pines glaring at him angerly. “What is wrong with you?!” she yelled, marching up to his face. “How could you allow my children to go into such a dangerous environment?” Stan tried to grin. “Relax Carol. The kids have been though way worse and they know how to handle stuff like this.” Carolyn looked shocked. “Wait, they’ve fought monsters before?” Ford noticed Mrs. Pines’ uneasiness and tried to calm her down. “Carol, believe me when I say that your children are very special. They’ve gone up against things that would make the bravest of people wet themselves and they’ve come on top every time.” Carol looked like she was going to pass out. “No! I’m had enough of these lies, I’ve had enough of this town, and I’ve had enough of you two!” she screeched at the two brothers. A few seconds went by before she composed herself and turned to her husband. “Jeff, get our things. We’re leaving.” 

“Mom don’t do this, please! It’s Christmas, we’re supposed to be with our family!” Mabel said as her mother dragged her and Dipper to the car. Carol didn’t respond. “I knew it, I knew we should’t have come here.” she muttered. The rest of the Pines had tried convincing Carol to change her mind, but nothing had worked. Just as they were about to get on the road, Stan made one final attempt to talk some sense into his in-law. “Carol please, at least take the pig.” he said holding up Waddles. “No Stan.” she said, not even meeting his gaze. ‘I’m never letting my kids see you ever again. This place is far too deadly for them and you are too much of a bad influence.” With that, the Pines got out of the driveway, leaving two brokenhearted grunkles in the dust.              

[codylabs]

Wander Into The Woods Chapter 1

"Com'n, dude. It's not called Spider Woods because it's known for huge, killer spiders. It's called that because it was discovered by the great explorer Phineas Spider!"

"You got that from somewhere."

"So what if I did? Even if it is crawling with huge man-eating spiders who want to suck out your brains, it'd be a good entry for your journal." Wendy swiped the Pine Tree journal from Dipper's hands, throwing it up in the air and catching it.

"Hey!" Dipper squeezed indignantly, snatching it away from Wendy before she could throw it again.

"Besides, you'll be getting away from your sister for once…" Wendy tempted, leaning against the tree as she grinned mischievously.

“I’ll have you know, I like hanging out with Mabel. She’s like the Yin to my Yang.” Dipper huffed, looking down awkwardly as he nervously shifted his weight from one leg to the other. “Or is it Yang to my Yin?”

“Since when do you care about that Japanese junk?”

“Chinese.” Dipper corrected, scowling at her. “The Yin-Yang in Chinese. Not Japanese.”

“Chinese-Binese. Com’n, do you want to get away from Mabel or not? Don’t tell me you think she’s not a bother.” Wendy groaned, disappointment flashing across her face at the realization that he might not actually want to come.

“Well, I mean, she hasn’t been lately. Not really. But…” Dipper squinted at Wendy, confused. “Hold on. Why does this mean so much to you?”

“Well, it’s Spider Forest!! I’ve never been, but Dad won’t let me go without someone. My brothers and practically everyone at school are chickens about this, except for Robbie and Tambry. But can you imagine going camping with your ex-boyfriend and his current girlfriend? Talk about awkward.”

“But you hang out with them all the time!” Dipper protested, tilting his head. “Don’t you?”

“Yeah. With Lee, Nate, and Thompson. But those three are wimps, too.”

“Oh. What makes you think that I won’t shy away, too?”

“Well, you’ve got that book.” Wendy told him, gesturing at the leather-clad journal. “You’ve hardly written anything in it for the last year, because you’ve been living in boring, old California, and you’re itching to put something in it. And what could be a better place to get inspiration then a spider-infested woods ten miles west of Gravity Falls?”

“Well…”

“Stan II also told me that the borders of Gravity Falls stretches around the forest, too, so paranormal stuff is there.” Wendy told Dipper, nudging him eagerly. “Please?”

“Paranormal stuff, huh?” Dipper asked, frowning at the journal. “Fine. I’ll go. But why didn’t you go with your Dad?”

“He said that he ‘went there once and once was enough’.”

“Waitwaitwait, if Manly Dan, YOUR DAD couldn’t handle it, what makes you think I can handle it?”

“Um, because you’re Dipper Pines, your Grunkles are literally Stanly Pines and Stanford Pines. One owns brace knuckles and spent thirty years messing with machinery he didn’t understand but still got it up and running, and the other owns laser guns and is a huge nerd.  Also, your sister has managed to stay alive on an all-sugar diet. If that isn’t impressive, I don’t know what is.” Wendy shrugged, smirking at him as she adjusted the pine tree hat.

Dipper hesitated one more time, weighing the pros and cons. There were really more cons then pros, but pros still won out. “Alright. Spider woods?”

“Yep. I’ll…um… ‘borrow’ Thompson’s mom’s van.” Wendy winked, an adventurous look crossing her face. “I’ll pick you up at noon tomorrow, deal, dude?”

“Deal.” Dipper agreed, grinning at her confidently.

---

Hooonk!! Honk honk Hooonk!!

“Dipper!! Com’n out!! Spider Woods awaits!!” Wendy’s voice broke through Dipper’s thoughts as he flipped through the science magazine.

“Aack!! Coming!!” Dipper stuffed the magazine into his duffle bag, pulling it onto his shoulder as he rushed outside, turning his head to look over his shoulder. “Bye, Mable!! Bye, Soos!!”

“See you, dude!!” Soos called, waving from his spot in the employees-only room.

“Bye, bro-bro!!” Mabel beamed, cuddling with Waddles as she somehow knitted a sweater at the same time.

The mysteries that involved his sister still baffled Dipper to this day.

“There you are, man!!” Wendy grinned, sitting in the front seat of the van. “Get in; I packed it with everything. We’re going to backpack in and junk.”

“Really? Are you sure that’s…safe?”

“Of course not!! When has a Corduroy ever done something ‘safe’?”

“…granted. Let’s get this show on the road!” Dipper whooped, heading for the back seats.

“Dude. It’s just us. You can sit in the front.” Wendy grabbed his arm and pulled him into the passenger seat.

Dipper slipped in without a word, adjusting himself in the seat.

Wendy revved up the car again, making it preform a U-turn as she turned it onto the road leading away from the mystery shack. “I’m surprised you haven’t already gone to Spider Woods without Stan II, yet.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m not sure why; he hasn’t even mentioned it before.” Dipper admitted, sighing in confusion as he gazed out the window.

“I don’t know, man.” Wendy shrugged, pulling onto the main street. “I’ve heard from S.W. Camper-veterans that it’s pretty hard core for even one night. I’ll bet they’re wimps, too. You don’t have arachnophobia, right?”

“I don’t think so.” Dipper frowned, cocking his head.

“Good. Those doofuses probably have arachnophobia, so they couldn’t handle all the creepy-crawlies.”

“Well, I’ll let you know tomorrow, then.” Dipper joked and was rewarded when Wendy laughed.

“I’ll let you know, too.” Wendy grinned, shaking her head.

“As if. You’re not scared of anything.” Dipper scoffed, glancing at her as he hugged his journal to his chest.

“Ha, how do you know that I just want you to think that, and I’m actually one of those freaks who wear a lunch bag over my face most of the time?”

“Um…”

Wendy laughed again, shoving him with her free hand. “I’m messing with you, dude. I’m not one of ‘em freaks.”

“I’m not sure if they classify as ‘freaks’…” Dipper unsurely contemplated.

Wendy shrugged, scoffing. “Whatever, Dipper.”

They lapsed into silence, focusing on the road ahead as they quieted, thinking about the terrors hiding in the woods.

---

"Here we are!" Wendy announced after fifteen-some minutes of driving. "Woods-sweet-woods!"

"The place where nightmares are born." Dipper mumbled, squeezing his duffle bag to him.

"Com'n, no arachnophobia, no problem." Wendy snorted, leaning down to ruffle his hair, but only managing to wrinkle his hat. "Eh, close enough. Out, out! Spider woods awaits!"

"Is it just me, or are we already pretty far in?" Dipper asked, gulping nervously.

The tall, swamp trees were clouded in mist, dozens of meters tall, their wet, mossy branches seeming to reach for the two teenagers, hauntingly towering over them.

"The deeper we go, the crazier it gets." Wendy chuckled, slinging her own backpack on her shoulders. "Or at least, that's one of the many, random bits of trivia I managed to wrangle from my Dad. Cool, right?"

"That doesn't answer my question." Dipper contemplated, watching Wendy suspiciously. "Are we already pretty deep in?"

"Naw, only about a mile or so. See, the road's-" Wendy pointed, then paused, staring at the trees beyond her finger. "Huh. I could have sworn it was right there. Like, literally, right there."

"Okay-hey-hey...Wendy, this is already creeping me out. You have, like, a great sense of direction, and suddenly disappeared?"

"Dude. Chill. It's just the fog messing with us."

"Wen-Dee!"

"Dip-pore!" Wendy repeated in the same, whiny, voice-cracked fashion, mimicking his pose. "Re-lax. Keep calm. As long as we find our way back to the van, we'll be good. Besides, we've only been here, like, what? Thirty seconds? And you're already wussing out on me?"

"It's not-"

"If you wuss out, I wuss out. My reputation would be ruined, man. I might be a total teen, but I'm not going to rebel against Manly Dan, okay? I'm not going to run all alone through Spider Woods, just because my partner wussed out and I didn't. Okay? Be a man, man." Wendy cuffed him gently, smirking at his expression as it morphed from terror to determination. "Right! I only have to survive one night of this twisted horror." Dipper smiled, trembling slightly.

"Night's still a ways off." Wendy reminded him, seeming overjoyed with this realization.

Dipper, not so much.

Sure, all that had happened was that they lost the path…but from the brief horror stories woven about this place from the town’s folk, you could never be too careful.

“Which is good.” Wendy continued, smirking to herself. “We get the full, horrifying experience.”

“I don’t consider that a good thing.” Dipper scoffed, nervously interchanging his weight between feet.

Wendy just rolled her eyes, grunting. “Stop being a wuss. You agreed to come, so stop whining.”

“I wasn’t whining, just stating facts!!”

“That’s also whining. Man up, and get ready!!”  Wendy stretched out her arms, gesturing wildly to the tress, grinning. “We’re about to enter the unknown.”

[newgin-clever-title-goes-here]

The Night Shift: Ch 1 Fireflies

Gravity Falls.

Summary:

Dipper gets Attacked by a large animal and things start getting stressful, turns

out finding a cure is difficult when there's a lot going on. Thankfully he's got his

stubborn sister along with family and friends to help, even if it means getting

hurt... 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Dipper held on to his sister’s hand as the twins made their way through the

woods.

Mabel clung on to her jar of fireflies, careful not drop them while Waddles

followed the two from behind. Dipper held the lantern out in front of them as they

tried to find their way back to the mystery shack; with some paper scraps in his

vest pocket that he found lying around hidden in the shack. Some were found

scattered, some were found in packets or piles; Ford told them it was probably

some old studies he never got around to finish; why they were separated from

the journals he doesn’t remember, considering they were scattered and

unfinished kind of explained a little bit though. 

He didn’t actually read them that much tonight; however he did find one

interesting entry on some weird hybrid canine creature. 

“You’re sure this is the right way back, it’s getting kind of creepy out here.” Mabel

said.

“I’m sure it is…I hope.” 

“You hope?”

“Just stay close to me and we’ll be alright.” His grip tightened, he didn’t feel safe

out here tonight, and he had been hearing strange noises while helping Mabel

catch fireflies…a bit longer than he expected, he might of gotten carried away

catching them.

Mabel looked away, feeling guilty as she did wander off a bit while chasing after

some of the bugs, they’re so tricky!

“Dipper, if it’s my fault we’re lost, I’m sorry.” She said quietly.

Dipper looked back at her as he cautiously kept walking.

“What no, you didn’t do anything wrong; besides, if it makes you feel better, it’s

kind of my fault too since I told Soos and Grunkle Stan I know my way around

this place.”

“You mean you don’t know how to get back?” She sounded nervous and was

starting to panic a little.

“No no no, I do! It’s just…well, I didn’t think we would have a hard time getting

back…Look I do know the way back, I just made a wrong turn…” he stopped

and looked around nervously. “A really bad turn…a hopefully non-fatal…bad

turn.” he said anxiously.

“We’re lost aren’t we?” Mabel asked grimly.

Dipper was silent for a moment before reluctantly answering.

“Yeah we’re lost.”  Dipper sighed; he had a slight feeling of panic but kept

himself together. “But I’m sure we’re still pretty close to the shack…” he sat

down trying to get his thoughts together, he messed up pretty bad. He promised

Soos and Mabel he knew his way back but he didn’t think it would be that

difficult. He promised to go with Mabel to catch those bugs. He kept the lantern

close to him as he was surprisingly cold. Normally most nights in Gravity Falls

lately were warm, not tonight however; he just had to get them both lost tonight.

He shivered a bit as he hugged his legs, thinking of a way to get back to the

shack. 

Mabel approached Dipper, she wasn’t completely bothered by Dipper’s mistake,

and she was prepared in case something like this happened. 

Dipper heard her coming from behind and turned to her, he sighed.

“I know, I screwed up…I’m not mad at you at all for running off, I mean I

promised you I would get us back home.”

She patted his shoulder.

“Hey, cheer up bro bro, don’t be too hard on yourself, remember that roll of

thread I asked you to keep in your pocket?”

“Yeah?” Dipper did wonder why she asked him to hold on to such a thing.

“Can you please hand it to me?”

“Uh…yeah sure….” He took it out of his vest pocket and handed it over to her.

“Thank you! Waddles come here!” she called the pig over and she sat next to

Dipper. She fiddled with the thread as Waddles sat in front of her.

Dipper observed her tying it around Waddles.

“Wait, are you…?” Dipper began to make sense of her actions.

“Yep, I’m making him a leash. When I’m done, he’s gonna help us find our way

back to the mystery shack!” she said cheerfully.

Dipper raised an eyebrow.

“Are you sure that’s going to work, I mean he is just a pig…”

“Come on, have faith in Waddles Dipper!” She replied.

“I do, I just don’t think pigs can find their way home like dogs do…”

“Have faith in Waddles! Have faith in the pig!”

“Alright, geez…I’m sorry for sounding like a jerk, but I do have one hundred

percent faith in Waddles.”

“I knew you did all along…” she giggled as she playfully shoved Dipper; in

response he gave a small smile back.

While tying a knot, out of the corners of Mabel’s eyes, she noticed her little 

brother shivering next to her, keeping the lantern close to him. She turned to her

brother with a concerned expression.

“You ok, Dipper? You look like you’re freezing …”

Dipper couldn’t hide it from her, he smiled nervously.

“Yeah, it’s kind of chilly tonight for some weird reason, I’m fine, don’t worry about me.” He chattered a little.

“You’re freezing!?”

“I don’t know why, I’m confused as well! It’s usually hot lately! At least you have

your sweater…and Waddles has hair or fur or whatever.”

Mabel smirked.

“It’s because you’re wearing shorts.”

Dipper scowled.

“Don’t worry I’ll keep you warm!” she snuggled up to him; Dipper made an

uncomfortable reaction and moved away a little. 

“So wait, did you know something like this would happen?”

“No not really, I just told you to hold on to the thread roll just in case we did get lost.”

“That means you knew something like this would happen…” Dipper frowned; she

probably knew he would most likely get them lost.

“Hey, it doesn’t hurt to be prepared in case something bad happens, I can take

care of myself too bro bro. Don’t give me that look, I just prepared in case you

did get us lost, I’m not saying you would all the time! Come on cheer up!” 

    After a minute or so, Mabel finished her leash.

“I’m done!” she announced.

Dipper turned and faced a little more to his sister as she handed the rest of the

roll of thread to him.

The two got up from their place, Mabel picked up her jar and Dipper grabbed his

lantern. Dipper gave Mabel an unsure glance while she smiled back. 

“Alright, Waddles show us the way to freedom!”

The pig oinked and began to lead the way as Mabel held on to the ‘Leash’ and

her jar. Dipper gave an amused humored look to Mabel.

“You’re sure this will work?” he laughed quietly to himself.

“Of course it will! I told you to have faith in Waddles.”

“You didn’t have faith in me about getting us back.” He said with a hint of

sarcasm.

“I did, lighten up Dipper!” she smirked.

He playfully bumped her and she did the same back.

Some time passed as the two made their way home. Mabel’s idea seemed to be

working as Dipper recognized the surrounding area. 

The twins were silent as they stuck close together while Waddles led the way.

Mabel broke the silence.

“I wonder why they even call them fireflies…”

“Huh?”

“I mean why do they even call them fireflies, they don’t set things on fire.”

“…Because they can make their own light, Mabel?”

“So why not light-flies, glow flies or lantern flies? …Well, I guess they don’t sound as cool as fireflies.”

“There is an actual bug called a lantern fly, but they don’t glow at all.”

Waddles stopped and so did the twins as they spoke to each other.

“That’s dumb, why even call them lantern flies?”

Waddles looked around, ears perked.

“I don’t know, but they call firefly larvae, glowworms.”

The pig started to panic as he turned in circles anxiously.  

“Do they actually glow?”

“Yeah!”

“Then I hope my fireflies have babies then! Heh, glowing worm babies.”

He oinked loudly and tried scratching Mabel’s leg. The twins looked down at

Waddles, both of their expressions curious and concerned.

“Waddles what’s wrong? We aren’t going to stay here silly…”

Dipper looked around as Mabel tried to calm Waddles; nothing seemed out of

the ordinary…for Gravity Falls that is.

…Until he heard a low sound.

“Mabel…”

“What is it-?”

He shushed her as the sound seemed closer.

“What is it?” she whispered.

“Do you hear that?”

A low roar mixed with a growl was heard; it sounded something similar like a

bear…but as more were heard, it began to sound more like something they’ve

never heard before.

“Yeah…” Mabel answered nervously. “What was that?”

“I…I don’t know…just stay near me.”

The source of the growls seemed to change direction each time the unknown

creature made them. 

“Can you see it?”

“I can’t see anything Dipper!”

“I think it’s circling us…we should just keep moving, we’re almost there anyway.”

“Kay…come on Waddles, keep going.” Mabel whispered. She tugged at

Waddles’ leash, he was reluctant to move as he sensed the unseen creature;

paralyzed by fear.  

“Waddles please…yeah that’s a good pig…”

Waddles wanted to leave fast; the twins hurried themselves, and another sound

was heard.

“I think it’s following us…”

A small roar echoed.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know but it’s nothing I’ve heard before.” Dipper was starting to panic.

They swore they could hear the beast chasing them.

“It’s getting close, hurry Mabel!”

“Is it behind us?”

“I don’t know I can’t check right now!”

“Maybe I can-” Mabel was cut off by her own startled cry as she slipped and fell;

and disappeared into a bush.  From Dipper’s perspective, it was almost like

something dragged her into the bush. Waddles fled in a panic, squealing

constantly as he ran off into the woods.

Dipper’s eyes widen, his heart skipped a beat. Did…did something attack her

She’s not –

His mind raced with all sorts of terrified thoughts, fear and dread overwhelmed

him and he could not think rationally.

“Ma-Mabel, no!” he screamed. “Mabel where are you?!”

“I’m down here!” Mabel sounded close…but what did she mean by ‘down here’

Dipper snapped out from his fear and ran through the bush, he stopped and

backed away abruptly when he thought he was about to step off a ledge. He had

almost slipped and he had fallen on to one knee but managed to clumsily stand

up again. He raised the lantern in front of him and the light revealed a rocky

ditch in front of Dipper. It wasn’t that steep and was rather small…but at the

bottom he found Mabel; she was still alive but she was holding her left ankle

which appeared to be bleeding. She also had a thin cut above her right eyebrow

which trickled; other than those injuries, she seemed to be fine. Mabel tried to

crack a small smile, her jar of fireflies still intact and close to her.

“Mabel you’re alive!” he choked on his words a bit.

“Of course I’m alive silly.”

“Are you alright; what happened, did that thing attack you?”

“I’m fine…well mostly, my ankle hurts to move and I bumped my head.”

“Was it because of-”

“Nah, I just slipped and fell down, I didn’t even see it.”

“Oh man, that’s good…”The drained Dipper sighed. He lifted his head, closed

his eyes and his shoulders drooped, he gave her a relieved smile.

“Here I’ll help you up…” he reached for her hand.

Mabel managed to grab his fingers gently…and slipped from his grip when

something very heavy slammed her from the back, she was forced to the ground

as a large creature pounced on her.

    It happened so fast, he didn’t even have time to react, Dipper was grabbing

his sister’s hand and before he knew it…the creature just swiftly appeared and

leapt on top of her, pinning her to the ground.  He had fallen back in horror as

the big hairy beast landed on her. He could see the thing’s glowing eyes and

large white fangs; but he couldn’t make out the rest of the creature. Thinking

quickly, he picked up the dropped lantern and held it out…and saw a large wolf.

His eyes widen.

He screamed out Mabel’s name.     Mabel screamed in fear as she felt pressure being applied to her back, she

felt sharp objects sinking into her skin, probably claws. She tried to escape but

the beast held her to the ground. She cried and reached out for her brother, who

was horrified at the sight as its claws sunk deeper into her back. 

    It seemed to be toying with the both of them as it snarled; it had a clear

chance to attack her...either that or maybe time seemed to be moving slow from

Dipper’s point of view due to everything happening so fast.

Dipper glared at the creature and gritted his teeth.

“Let her go!” Dipper screamed.

He sprang to his feet; the wolf quickly reacted to this by picking up Mabel by the

back of her sweater with its jaws and throwing her against one of the many trees

in the woods; suddenly finding more interest in Dipper challenging it than her.

“Mabel!” enraged, Dipper took his lantern and started repeatedly smacking the

creature across the face with it. He didn’t even hesitate; the sight of Mabel’s still

figure enraged him. After enough hits, the beast could no longer take it and

retreated back deep into the woods.

He breathed heavily, looking back to Mabel and then where the canine ran off to.

Dipper did not feel relief from this as the werewolf gave up rather easily. Why

would the werewolf flee from being smacked around by a lantern; it could have

just fought back and kill the two of them with ease, and yet all it did was

antagonize them and leave. All of this was very strange for a werewolf…if it

really was one; but he had something way more important to worry about right

now.

He rushed over to Mabel’s aid; she was on her side and hugging herself;

groaning as her spine hurt pretty bad. She was regaining her senses slowly; she

shivered as she laid on the ground on her right side.

She wasn’t knocked unconscious from hitting the tree but stunned and in pain.

She managed to get a glimpse of Dipper defending her from that big dog earlier;

she would have joined in and helped him if her body didn’t hurt at that moment.

    “Mabel? Mabel...Mabel, wake up!”

“Ow, don’t shake me, I’m awake!” Mabel winced.

“Oh sorry…wait, have you been awake this whole time?”

“Yeah…it hurts to move though…”

Dipper helped her sit up and supported her back; he stroked it in a way as if he

was looking for something; this creeped Mabel out.

“Uh…What are you doing? You’re starting to freak me out Dipper…”

“Did that thing bite you?” he said in a low nervous voice.

“What?”

“Did that thing bite you?” his voice was filled with more panic.

Mabel was feeling uneasy from this; Dipper knew something was unnatural

about that thing. 

“Well…I felt that thing pick me up-”

“It used its jaws when it did that…Did you feel anything like…like…” he trailed off

as he found it difficult to think what to say next. For an odd reason, his brain just

locked up there.

Mabel could sense fear in Dipper’s voice.

“Pain?”

“Yeah…did he get your back?”

“No, I think he only bit my sweater, the only thing that hurt was being thrown

against a tree…and when it held me down.” 

Dipper leaned to his left and looked at her back, there was no sign of blood but

she had some tears in her sweater; her undershirt was untouched.

“He didn’t bite you…good, oh good…”  He said in a weary tone. He hugged her

in relief.

Mabel’s eyes trailed around in a sad manner.

“Dipper…what’s wrong, what was that thing?” He wasn’t telling her something.

He looked away in sadness. “It’s not a dog, is it…you know what it is...”her voice

quiet. She had a good guess of what the creature was.

“If it bit me would…would I be cursed or something?”

He looked at her sadly before giving her a nod; he had to assume the creature

was a werewolf right now to avoid the worst.

“Yeah…He probably was attracted here by the smell of your blood.”

He looked around the woods then turned back to Mabel, he examined her

injuries…she wasn’t safe.

“We have to get you out of here…” Dipper’s voice was stern yet soft.

He held her hand.

“Can you get up?

“Yeah…I-I think I can.”

Mabel wobbled to her feet; she was limping on her left foot.

“You can’t walk!”

“Yes I can, don’t be paranoid. It’s just sore…”

“Here I’ll help you, just hang on to my right shoulder.” He switched sides and

held her left arm over his right shoulder, helping her walk. He retrieved the

slightly broken lantern, having to turn the knob to relight it, and then picking up

the glowing jar.

“Thanks Dipper…” Mabel slightly leaned against him as they both struggled to

move.

Mabel winced as her foot hurt at each limp; she made some small moans as

she forced herself to keep going. Dipper tightens his grip on Mabel’s arm,

attempting to comfort her by trying to signal he was there for her.

“Hang on, we’re almost there…”

“I feel like that’s the seventh time you’ve said that tonight.” Mabel said with some

tired sarcasm.

“Well this time I mean it.”

“You better.” She giggled. “I hope Waddles made it back alright, I’m worried

about him.”

“I’m sure he did, he’s a smart pig.” He looked down in thought. “I’m hoping that

thing that attacked us was that unnamed dog hybrid…whatever thing and not

well you know.”

“Same…What does that no name dog thing you were talking about do anyway?”

“Well it-” Mabel interrupted him.

“Hey, I can see the shack!” Mabel could see the lights from it shine from a few

feet away.

“See I told you…you…” something felt off, he set down the lantern and searched

through his vest pocket. His eyes filled with disbelief and rolled them.

“You got to be kidding me.”

“What now?”

He sighed “The scraps fell out of my vest...”

“Come on…” She was in disbelief, tonight just wasn’t their luck. “How do you

even lose something that deep in your pocket?”

“Hey I didn’t think I would lose them too!” 

She bumped him playfully to cheer him up; Dipper chuckled in response.

“Well anyway, they’re probably not too far away…”he looked over his left

shoulder. “I swear they were in my vest just a while ago…oh they’re over there!”

they were lying near where they exited from the woods.

“Do you wanna go back for them?” Mabel asked.

“I can’t yet; I need to get you inside…and I don’t want to make you turn around.”

“Aww, that’s so nice of you bro bro. It’s ok; I can get myself inside, my foot

starting to feel better anyway.” She let go of him.

“You sure you can make it to the shack?”

“Dipper, its right in front of us…” Mabel said blankly.

“Oh, yeah…uh sorry that was a really stupid thing to say…haha…”

Mabel gave him an uncomfortable look.

“I’ll just get the papers…” he said sheepishly and ran back to the entrance of the

woods, still clutching onto the lantern.

“You dork…” Mabel snickered quietly to herself. 

“Heh almost lost you guys there…” he muttered to himself as he kneeled to the

ground. 

Then leaves’ being crushed underfoot was heard.

He flinched and quickly looked up when he heard the sound, was something

following him? No he should stay calm, probably just a possum or raccoon…and

hopefully not a bear.

He looked around nervously as he picked up the papers one by one; it might be

that werewolf or hybrid or whatever that thing was. It probably wasn’t a werewolf;

he knew there wasn’t a full moon tonight, maybe it was that unnamed canine 

thing? They looked similar to werewolves from what he saw from the messy 

sketch on one of the stray pages.

“Come on Dipper it shouldn’t take long to pick up a few papers!”

He snapped out of his thoughts and looked back at Mabel, putting the bundle of

papers in his vest.

“Alright alright, I’m sorry; I just thought I heard something.”

    He shouldn’t have turned his back, or maybe shouldn’t have stalled.

He made a careless mistake, he let his guard down….he had left himself open

for that moment, and exposed his weak spot. For that short moment, for that

small mistake; was all that was needed for his attack.

Dipper suddenly felt like he was hit by a truck, at least he thought what being hit

by a truck would feel like. It happened so suddenly that he lost his grip on the

lantern. His shoulder felt as if it was on fire as something sharp entered it. For a

second he was confused, but it didn’t take long for him to figure out what was

happening. Everything within his vision was moving fast and blurred as he was

carried off. The pain coursing through his body was too much to bear.

He let out a pained scream and then everything went black.     “D-Dipper!” She screamed in horror.

Mabel was left with little time to react; in a matter of seconds her own brother

was abducted by some animal right before her very eyes. Dipper’s expression at

that moment was full of confusion, fear and helplessness; and his scream…She

didn’t know what kind of animal it was as it happened so fast, but from what she

could make out, it looked like a big dog…a dog. The same creature that attacked

them earlier she assumed, it came back.

Maybe it was still angry from earlier.

Mabel didn’t think twice about the situation, she had to save Dipper.

Waddles cautiously peeked from the unlocked door, causing a creak. Mabel

quickly turned to him, she sighed in relief that he was ok but right now she had

to take care of her Bro. 

“Waddles stay inside ok?” 

He oinked in a frightened manner.

Mabel quickly limped into the woods, pushing herself to go faster despite her

minor injury.

She picked up the dropped lantern, even more cracked than ever; and darted

deep into the woods.

    “Dipper...Dipper, where are you?” Mabel cried.

She was starting to panic, she heard nothing from Dipper…he…he wasn’t dead

was he?

“Give…Give me back my brother!” she yelled, determined to find him.

A roar was heard.

She whirled around trying to locate the direction of the sound; holding the lantern

out. While looking around, something on the forest floor caught her eye, some

red stuff…blood.

Her eyes widened with dread.

“Dipper, answer me please!” her voice trembled as she screamed. 

A shrub rustled.

Mabel turned to the shrub; and a giant beast leapt out from it.

Standing in front of her was a giant wolf; it had blood on its mouth…Dipper’s

blood.

Mabel stood her ground; even though she was scared, she needed to save

Dipper.

It snarled as it crept closer; Mabel backed away slowly, glaring at the wolf.

“I-I’m not scared of you; give – GIVE ME BACK MY BROTHER!” 

The wolf responded by attempting to swipe her with its claws; she jumped back,

dodging its attack. 

“I’m not leaving without him! And you’re not taking me!” 

The wolf lunged at her, she jumped out of its way quickly as her heart skipped a

beat; it almost got her that time. She had to get rid of it fast but how? All she had

was a lantern…hey, maybe that was it!

She could try lighting something on fire to scare it off, it should definitely work.

Acting quickly, she picked up a stick off the ground and unlocked the small

window that kept the flame inside the lantern.

“Come on come on!” Mabel had to get this to work fast.

The wolf crept around her slowly, observing her actions.

She poked the end of the stick in the flame; starting a small flame on the stick.

Though after a few seconds, she learned the hard way that fire doesn’t burn as

fast as she thought it did.

The flame was pretty small and was spreading at a turtles pace; it wasn't even

burning like a torch. She needed it to burn like a torch but as it turned out a stick

would not do. Actually now that she thought about it, they usually used oil, and a

bundle of wood, among other things.

Thinking this over, she should have been more prepared for this.

She smiled nervously as the wolf snarled at her, its jaws half open. Mabel stuck

her burning stick out at the wolf, in a rather sad (she admits) and desperate

attempt to scare the beast off. The wolf was unamused and swiped it out from

her hand.

She backed away in fear.

She attempted to swing the lantern at it but it kept dodging. She whimpered; she

didn’t know what else to do.  The thing readied itself.

“N-no!”

The beast lunged at her once again; Mabel screamed as she fell back. She

dropped the lantern and closed her eyes.

The lantern shattered; unable to take anymore abuse, its glass covering the flame gone, its oil spilling out.

And then the forest floor burst into flames.

The wolf let out a pained roar.

The sudden heat and roar startled Mabel and she opened her eyes. She crawled

backwards, shielding her face with her arm from the bright flames. She

scrambled to stand up, slipping and falling back down a few times before finally

getting back on her feet.  She tried to catch her breath but accidentally inhaled

some smoke.

‘It’s smoky already.’ She thought to herself. She covered her mouth and nose

with her right hand to protect herself from the smoke; her eyes hurt a little but

despite this she tried to keep them open.

She turned her attention back to the wolf, who had been crying out in pain

throughout her recovery. The fire thankfully separated wolf from Mabel; who on

the other side was clawing its face. From what she could see, the wolf wasn’t on

fire but it seemed to be trying to remove something from its eyes, maybe it got

burned a little from the sudden fire or got ashes in its eyes. The wolf continued

to cry out before turning away and running blindly into the woods. 

Mabel took this as her chance to escape the area, safely away from the fire. She

reached a clearing some distance from the flames, she could still see the light

from the fire but at least she could finally catch her breath without all the smoke.

She took in deep breaths as fresh clean air filled her lungs again.

She coughed roughly, her throat still irritated from the smoke; she doubled over

just a bit as she hacked.

She wiped her eyes, stingy and watery from the fire.

She looked around with worry and fear and began to cry out 

“Dipper…Dipper…DIPPER!”      He lied weakly some distance from the fire and Mabel, looking limp and

broken; if anyone came upon a child like him in his state, they might believe he

was dead.

But he wasn’t…

Dipper could hear muffled and distant cries, his senses returning slowly; he

groaned as he regained feeling in his body first. The voice was beginning to

sound familiar and brought a sense of relief over him. 

“…Ma…Mabel?” his voice tired.

He groaned as he awakened, opening his eyes slowly and coughing heavily;

apparently it was cold enough tonight to see his own breath. He found himself

looking at the forest floor from his left side, lying in mud and leaves, the monster

nowhere in sight. He seemed to be alone from what it looked like at the moment;

he could still hear Mabel cry out for him.

“Mabel…!”  He winced as his chest hurt from trying to call Mabel, even just

breathing felt painful.

He wished he didn’t regain the feeling in his body now.

He was freezing pretty bad, even his insides felt cold; his whole body felt like it

was made out of ice. The cold air just made him ache even more. 

What happened again, everything happened so fast. He tried to reorganize his

thoughts; last he remembered he was heading back to the shack…when

something attacked him…

How far in the woods was he, how long was he out, and why was he left by the

creature?

He would have to ask these when Mabel finds him…Mabel, was she ok? She

didn’t get hurt by that thing again did she? He hoped she didn’t receive any more

injuries from any sort of thing.

He coughed again, much harder this time…he felt his nose run and even felt it

touch his mouth…the taste was bitter.

It wasn’t mucus.

He wiped his nose with his right hand and examined it, a dark red color, his nose

was bleeding. 

‘That’s not a big deal.’ Dipper thought.

He flinched once again as his right shoulder throbbed and grabbed the lower

part of his arm with his left hand. Probably still sore from being dragged

around…wait. A crucial detail came back to him, the last thing he felt before

passing out…Mabel was the last thing he saw but that wasn’t the important part

about it; it was about what he felt.

His shoulder felt like it was on fire at that same moment he got his last glimpse

of Mabel.

He slightly moved up his left hand and cupped around that shoulder lightly.

Moisture seemed to be completely covering it; he felt it run down his arm. He

froze for a moment, he felt a sense of dread as his mind started racing towards a

single conclusion.

“No it’s not…” he tried reassuring himself. “There’s no full moon just stay

calm…” 

His vest felt deeply torn, even his shirt sleeve…and then he writhed when he

squeezed his shoulder just a tiny bit. That small touch sent a sharp pain

throughout his arm, he squeezed his eyes shut and cried out in pain briefly. He

yanked his hand off his shoulder in response, slamming it against the ground.

Dipper buried his head next to his left arm as he clenched his teeth, groaning as

he felt numb for that moment. Opening his eyes and raising his head slowly, he

looked at his left hand; his palm and fingers covered with blood…a lot of blood. 

His mouth opened slightly as his eyes grew big in horror, he rolled on his back

as he stared at his trembling bloody hand.

His horror grew into panic; he sat up just a bit and turned his head to his right

shoulder. The fabric was all torn and colored a deep red with his blood that

traveled down his right arm. The wound looked awful…and he knew it was a bite

wound from the looks of it. 

His breathing quickened.

“It’s not…It’s not…!”

Something else then caught his eye on his right side; he tried to get a good look

at it without rolling onto his right side.

It was paw prints, though that’s not what scared him.

There was also clawed hand prints grouped with them.

That sealed the deal for him; the dog hybrid he read about tonight did not have

hands, it was all paws.

He did not want it to be the situation that he was dreading.

His body was shaking all over…

“There’s no full moon…there’s no…”

He tried to stay calm as he rather painfully dragged himself and made himself sit

up against a tree. 

What should he do?

Grunkle Ford was out of reach for a while since he was doing some research

and investigating deep in the woods. Something about strange violent activity

and some creatures asking for help, he didn’t really describe what exactly but he

warned them to stay away from that part of the woods, too dangerous right now

from what Ford seen.

Dipper could really use his insight of his own situation right now.

Desperate, he pulled out his packet, maybe there was an entry about

werewolves that he missed when skimming through them?  It wouldn’t hurt to

double check; but even then he felt that his chances of finding an entry were

very slim.

He skimmed through them again and found some completely blank pages.

Maybe…it was really written in invisible ink and not blank at all?

Curious, he took out his portable black light and tried black lighting it. To his luck,

it had some info about werewolves surprisingly, maybe things would be ok. He

managed to grab some new info…but it didn’t seem that very helpful…in fact it

revealed some unfortunate news for his problem and only a little amount of good

news. 

“There’s different types of werewolves…Some might be werewolves, some

might not be, some might not even spread the curse of becoming one…need to

research more about this…cure still unknown…Ingredients might be…but very

hard to find...there are multiple cures but each vary for each type of werewolf

given wrong one might cause death or illness or worsen ones condition…some

can’t be cured…haven’t tested them all out…a few types don’t change during

the full moon…change every night…rules keep changing…TOO MANY TYPES

WILL ONLY DOCUMENT A FEW FOR NOW…”

And it just ended right there, unfinished. From what information that he did have

wasn’t very helpful as it was vague. Those papers crushed any hope he had.

He didn’t know what type bit him and had no idea what cure he needed; and he

didn’t even know if he even could be cured...and there was nothing he could do

about it with the current information he had, he didn’t even know if this was older

or current information. And Great Uncle Ford could not be contacted or reached

right now; he didn’t have a phone or walkie talkie on him.

He did feel like one thing was certain.

He was going to suffer a very cruel fate.

He leaned against the tree and looked up at the night sky, his eyes full of despair

and stress, closing his eyes slowly.

And then Dipper began to weep quietly as he drifted off.

     It didn’t take long for Mabel to locate him, she heard him cry out a few times

in pain; it actually sounded sad and frightened to the point she could feel her

own heart break. She hoped he was ok…he stopped responding a while ago.

“Dipper…Dipper…!”

Mabel gasped as she saw her brother from a few feet away, he was lying still

against a tree and…and…he was bleeding…a lot. There was so much blood on

his right arm; it was almost completely covered in it. 

“D-Dipper!” 

Mabel didn’t hesitate, she bolted towards him. Mabel almost slipped on the mud

but quickly scrambled back up; her ankle started acting sore again from this but

she tried to ignore it.

She started to falter as she got closer to him; she made a small skid when she

reached him. Mabel took one more step as she held her arms out; she reached

a shaky hand out to Dipper. He looked even worse up close; his vest sleeve on

his right shoulder was torn open, his face had some small cuts and his nose 

bloody, his legs looked bruised and red.

Mabel fell to her knees, her eyes full of horror and sadness. 

He was still breathing, but rather weakly; she held his right hand and placed her

other hand on his back. His expression was pained and tired, checking him

closer she could see tears. Her heart hurt so much to see him like this. She

leaned on him a little to give him a light hug and then moved away.

“Dipper…? I’m sorry I took so long…please wake up.”  Her voice was sad and

quiet.

Dipper weakly cracked his eyes open and looked to his right, Mabel was by his

side with watery eyes.

“Ngh…Mabel?” his tired eyes had a hint of surprise. He struggled to move but

Mabel restrained him.

“Dipper, you’re alive!” She snuggled up to him, giving him another hug, though it

was a side hug actually. “I saw you breathing but I didn’t think you were going to

wake up…”

“Mabel…you’re ok right? Did it bite you, and is the thing gone?” he coughed.

“I’m fine and yeah it’s gone…I kind of accidentally started a fire trying to save

you.”

“What?”

“Well, the lantern broke then the next thing boom, but it’s not that bad.”

“Well…I’m glad you’re ok…” 

Mabel nodded with a forced smile as tears ran down her cheeks; she hugged

him again once more, she squeezed his hand even tighter.

Dipper hadn’t notice till now that she was even holding his hand due to his arm

starting to go numb. He gave her a weak smile and squeezed her hand as well.

“I thought you were done for when that wolf ran off with you…”she closed her

eyes as she snuggled closer.

He frowned in response; things weren’t exactly ok as Mabel thought they were.

He sighed through his nose. The sight of seeing Mabel comforted him at first,

but he knew she was possibly in danger by being with him. 

He didn’t want to cut their moment of peace short, but he had to tell Mabel that

he was bitten by a werewolf. 

“Mabel, I’m sorry but you have to-” he groaned in agony as Mabel hugged him a

bit too tight.

“Sorry…” her eyes widen as something caught her eye “Oh no, he bit your arm

too…”

“What, no he got just my shoulder…”and then he noticed it too, the blood smear

much lower down the right arm was actually a bite wound too.  

No denying it now again, he was definitely cursed. He had two bite wounds to

prove it now.

He began to panic, not only that he had two bite wounds but his body was

shivering uncontrollably and his legs were going numb. He felt like he was going

to be sick, no wait, he probably is sick. 

That werewolf didn’t even need a full moon to appear, he could change at any

moment, maybe even right now…he could actually be changing at this very

moment!

“Oh…Oh man. M-Mabel please…just get-!” he winced as he felt pain go down his spine. 

“Oh Dipper don’t move!” Mabel exclaimed. She moved him and made him lie on

the ground.

“Just relax, I’ll get Grunkle Stan.”  She said, both hands now clasping his right.

He took a few quick deep breaths and looked at her with sad and frightened

eyes.

“Mabel don’t…” he said weakly.

She was puzzled by his response.

“Don’t do what?”

“Do-don’t get help yet…”he coughed.

“What, but if I don’t you’ll probably die…”

“I know but I might change…”

“Wha…What do you mean by that?”

He just gave her a sorrowful look.

“You really do think a werewolf attacked us.”

“Mabel, I’m sorry, I’m not safe to be around anymore.”

“Dipper its ok, we can probably find a cure, we can look it up somewhere or wait

till Ford comes back-”

“There might not be a cure, I looked it up, there’s a chance it will kill me or there

might not be one at all! There’s more than one type of werewolf, some don’t

even need a full moon to change, here look! Great uncle Ford wrote about them

on these lost papers.” he snapped.

He gave her the papers and the portable black light, she skimmed through it, but

she did not feel convinced. Maybe Dipper was jumping to conclusions again.

“Hey, it was never actually finished. It even says that some might not even be

actual werewolves or even spread the curse. It might be out of date too; don’t

give up!” She said in a cheery tone to lighten his mood.

“I don’t want to risk it, Mabel. I don’t want to change and eat people; I might even

transform by then before Grunkle Ford comes back. Please if you’re going to

help just lock me up, leave me or something, I don’t want to hurt you!” he

screamed, he was in hysterics. He could not think coherently.

“Dipper, knock it off! It might be something else, maybe it’s another monster.”

She was scared, scared for him, he looked so miserable. 

“Mabel, no one is safe, I’m becoming monster!”

“You’re no monster, even if you do turn into one. Come on Dipper, please let me

help you; you don’t have to be alone because you’re turning into something.”

“I’d rather be alone if I’m becoming a monster! Mabel please, just leave me. I

don’t want to kill anyone, and I’m not risking it!” He felt…exhausted.

“Dipper stop it! This isn’t like you! I can help you through this; I promise you

won’t hurt anyone.”

“Just leave me Mabel...I might change at any moment.”

“I won’t let you die, come on Dipper you don’t really believe that this will help.”

She started crying.

“Mabel don’t...I won’t die, I just want to be alone so I can change and not hurt

anyone…I just need to be alone in the woods every night till Grunkle Ford

comes back…it’s the safest thing to do…right now.”

“You won’t hurt anyone, come on just have faith.”

“Please…I’ll see you tomorrow…I won’t….die.” Dipper’s voice trailed off, his

vision was fading. He was worn; exhausted…he realized what he was saying

and how he was saying it was breaking Mabel’s heart. He honestly didn’t want

to…

“Mabel I’m sorry about the things I said…I…I just want you safe.” He lied still, no

longer moving but still breathing.

“Dipper…Dipper! Wake up, come on! Please don’t die!” She cradled him and

tried shaking him, but there was no response.

“Dipper, I promise everything will be alright, just hang on…”

Mabel hugged him tightly, hoping he would wake up.

She raised her head when she heard familiar voices as tears ran down her face.

“Ack, Mr. Pines there’s a fire here!”

“Soos get a bucket or a hose, some idiot dropped a lantern! Hey kids, where are

you?”

It was Soos and Grunkle Stan.

Mabel felt a moment of hope, she needed to save Dipper, and she would prove

to him he would not change or become a monster.

“Dipper, I’m sorry, but I don’t think we were attacked by a werewolf, even though

we did see the wolf. It-it might be something else, don’t worry. I’ll make sure

you’ll be alright…trust me.” she pressed her forehead against his.

She lifted her head again and raising her voice, she yelled as loud as she could

in a desperate and frightened voice.

“Help! Grunkle Stan, Soos! Help please, someone help! Please hurry! We need

help, please!”         

[a-mad-scientist-approaches]

You’re Safe

Maybel 2018, Week 2: Comfort. Another Werewolf AU :)

Mabel goes downstairs to fetch a glass of water. Stan loses track of how late it is. The full moon rises.

@siriuslyart your adorable Werewolf!Stan inspired me!

Part 1    Part 3    Part 4

AO3

With the kids over it was becoming more important than ever to make sure he was contained in the basement well before the full moon rose. Stan was fairly good at making up excuses for why he supposedly went to bed early sometimes (these old man powers were good for something after all), and so far Dipper and Mabel had bought them all. They always seemed a bit distracted whenever he brought it up anyway, seeming to have plans to occupy themselves already. That suited him fine. As long as they were safe upstairs, it didn’t matter what was happening.

The most Stan could remember in the mornings were vague, dream-like sensations. One thing he was certain of was that it was never good. The occasional wreckage, vicious claw marks, and chunks taken out of machinery – along with feelings of anger and fear that persisted throughout the day afterwards – were enough of a testament to that. He didn’t know if it was miraculous or intentional that the wolf hadn’t actually done any major damage to the portal yet. Just how tough were those claws?

He woke up sweating sometimes at the thought of what could happen if the kids ever discovered him like that.

Which was why he was currently cursing himself stupid for not realising what the time was.

It had dawned on him slowly that it was pretty dark.

Like the hand of a clock, more thoughts struck him, one after the other.

The kids had gone up to bed quite a while ago.

Last month it’d been the first time with the kids in the house, and he’d gone down to the basement early out of paranoia. Something had happened between then and now.

He’d relaxed.

And now he was lucky that the full moon wasn’t already up.

Fuck didn’t come close to describing the situation.

That Ducktective show was unreasonably addictive! He should have been locking the basement down ten minutes ago, with him inside! Why had he agreed to taking the kids? What had possessed him to do that? God, this was exactly the kind of stupid, impulsive thing he always did that ended up worse than he would have thought possible. If he transformed up here he’d wake up to fucking bloodstai-

He clamped down on that thought before he could finish it. If he didn’t, he might be sick.

Stan shot out of the armchair, propelling himself straight over the side, feet making a thump when they hit the floor that he hoped Dipper and Mabel wouldn’t hear. It was going to be fine, he had time, right? The vending machine wasn’t that far away, and moonrise couldn’t be that soon, right?

He left the shag carpet behind faster than he’d moved in decades.

Besides, the kids were already upstairs. Who was to say what the wolf knew? Even if he did transform up here, it wasn’t like the wolf could, what, use some super-senses to sniff them out.

Shit.

That’s exactly what werewolves did.

But it wasn’t a problem, because the gift shop door was less than three feet away and he had time.

“Grunkle Stan?”

ShitshitSHIT.

He froze, his hand clutching the door handle to the gift-shop entrance.

Just be normal, you have time, just get her to bed quickly.

“Yeah, sweetie? You okay?” He turned to look at Mabel, who was peeking around the living room entrance.

“Yep. Just getting Dipper some water.” To his horror, she came through and walked unconcernedly towards him.

“In a bowl?” He couldn’t help but notice, despite the situation.

“Um.” Mabel stiffened slightly and looked shiftily down at the crockery in her hands. “Yes. So . . . Waddles can have it when he’s done!” She looked up with a bright grin, then changed the subject quickly. “I just heard a thump and wondered if you were okay.”

“Uh, yep, yeah, just fine. No need to worry, all good here.” Holy fuck, Mabel was standing right in front of him. He tried his best to look like he wasn’t trying to push himself backwards through the wood of the door.

Then he ran out of time.

He didn’t need to see the soft light shining through the nearest window to know that the moon had risen.

Mabel said something about heading back upstairs. Yes, she should definitely do that. Stan would have been relieved but –

He felt growing pains hit every bone in his body, and his skin started to itch like crazy as hairs grew uncontrollably. A wave of dizziness and disorientation washed over him as his nose picked up smells he hadn’t even known existed, and his eyesight started to dim. It was getting harder to think clearly, but nevertheless terrified denials and furious self-punishing thoughts spiralled around his head like a hurricane.

“Grunkle Stan? Are you okay?”

As he doubled over he felt Mabel’s small, cool hand on his arm. He clenched his jaw in a desperate effort to stop what would happen next. It didn’t matter.

“Your teeth are kind of . . . big,”

All the better to eat you with, hysterically swam through his mind as parts of it shut down and others reawakened.

Before his human consciousness faded completely, he shoved the girl away.

Mabel hit the floor with a grunt.

“Stan!” she said in disbelief, more hurt by the action than the scrapes left by the wooden floor. She managed to keep the bowl from smashing, but all the water splashed out – beside her, luckily.

She got to her knees, feeling more and more worried by the moment. Stan would never have done that, not unless he was trying to save her from something more dang-

His teeth really were big. She could see them growing! They were getting pointier too, just like Dipper’s did when he –

When he Changed.

Oh.

My.

Gosh.

This was . . .

. . . so . . .

. . . cool!

Dipper was going to be so happy when he found out! He had someone like him! And it was Stan!

Her uncle was looking distinctly more wolf-shaped than human now. She winced as she saw a couple joints dislocate and relocate in new locations, saw bones elongate steadily but immensely, saw muscles grow and his body contort in a way that would be extremely painful if his brain wasn’t doing the same thing in a chemical manner, shutting off most of the sensations.

(Dipper had explained all his theories to her.)

He was writhing uncomfortably on his side now. Her heart hurt for him, but she knew it would be over soon, and then he would be fine. The clothes probably weren’t helping his situation. Mabel crawled over and did her best to untangle him, ripping where she had to. Stan’s fur sprouted under her hands – grey, but still thick and soft like Dipper’s. She couldn’t wait to hug him! She’d finally get to see how big a fully-grown werewolf was!

After a minute, it was over. His movements lessened as he recovered.

Stan slowly got his paws under him.

He rose up. And kept rising.

“Whoa.” she breathed, craning her neck. “Big fluff pup.”

She’d never seen a bear, but she imagined Stan wouldn’t be a lot smaller than one. He was far larger than any of the dogs she’d seen.

She watched from her position curled by his side as Stan looked around the room. He breathed deeper than Dipper did, and he didn’t seem as excitable, either. She supposed that was to be expected though: Dipper was only a puppy, and closer to the size of a normal dog.

Eventually, he seemed to notice the small weight pressing into his hind leg. He looked down at her.

Mabel gave a little wave.

Stan was very still. He remained very still – so much so that he stopped breathing – as Mabel moved so she was face-to-face with him. Well, close enough, seeing as his snout was over a foot above her even when she stood up. His head slowly pivoted to follow her, unblinking.

“Hey Stan,” she said, unsure why she felt compelled to keep quiet.

She reached out to pet his chest. There was a low rumble coming from it. She bet it would feel really funny.

The rumble grew as her hand neared it. Closer and closer, louder and louder. Mabel’s smile faded a little.

When she was a few inches away, Stan growled. Her smile dropped completely.

“Stan . . . ?”

Stan bared his teeth and growled again, louder, a near-bark snapping out at the end of the sound. Mabel flinched away, gasping a little. The growl didn’t stop.

Stan put one paw forward, then another. What was he doing? What was happening? Dipper never did this. He looked like he was . . . there was no other word for it. He was stalking towards her. The look in his eyes wasn’t familiar either.

Or . . .

Well, it was. Just not coming from her uncle. She usually saw it on wild animals in the forest, just before they tried to kill her.

She was backing away before she realised, mind racing. What could she do? Stan wouldn’t really hurt her, would he? It was Stan!

But was it?

That was never a question she had asked with Dipper, but this was crazy! He didn’t recognise her at all! Human emotions looked so, so wrong on this very not human creature. She could see anger and suspicion, intensely warring and winning over some other emotion that she couldn’t discern, didn’t have time to discern, she had to do something, had to do something now!

The wolf came persistently towards her, snarling. Mabel stepped onto the carpet, pulse thundering in her ears. Stan’s eyes were fixed on her, coming more into focus with every passing second. They alighted on her –

“Jugular,” she whispered. It was one of Dipper's clearer memories from his first time transforming. The jugular was a target.

Her hands were shaking now, adrenaline pumping through her system. She so desperately wanted to run, the feeling was so intense it was like ice water had been poured into her veins, but she had a feeling that the only reason Stan hadn’t pounced yet was because she wasn’t making any sudden moves.

He barked, loudly. It might as well have been a gunshot, the way it went through her. She jumped violently, and tears sprung to her eyes. She needed a weapon, something, anything that was close –

To do what? Attack her uncle? She couldn’t. There was no way she could do that, not even if there was no other choice –

No other choice? Since when? This was still Stan, even if he didn’t quite know it.

She knew that when she looked at him. Really looked.

His eyes were the same brown as always. The same brown as Dipper’s. The same as hers.

She stopped backing away and stood determinedly in place.

Stan did as well, growl pausing for a second, cocking his head slightly in confusion. He was a werewolf. Adversaries were supposed to be afraid of him, after all.

Mabel could have smacked herself. Duh! Stan hadn’t met her before! At least, not like this. No wonder he didn’t really know who she was, she was all . . . new to him. She appeared different, because now he was different. He thought she was a threat, an intruder or something. And her uncle wasn’t really the most approachable person to begin with. Once she thought about it, this wasn’t surprising at all. Dipper had been the same, albeit on a much less threatening level, but when it came right down to it, he hadn’t hurt her. So neither would Stan. She knew it.

“It’s okay Grunkle Stan, it’s just me,” she said, making sure to keep her voice gentle and soothing. He hadn’t moved forwards again, so that was a good sign.

“It’s Mabel. You remember? We were just talking. I’m Mabel.” She lowered herself back to the floor, kneeling and slowly extending one hand. It wasn’t shaking any more.

“Me an’ Dipper are living with you.” She patiently explained. “We’re not gonna hurt you.”

Stan stopped growling, examining her intently. She felt like cheering but managed to keep from dancing around. She’d save that for later.

“It’s okay . . . you’re safe,”

He padded cautiously forwards again, bending to smell her hand.

“You’re safe,”

After a moment, he nuzzled it. A broad grin burst onto Mabel’s face.

“Hi Stan,”

There was recognition in his eyes. Stan’s teeth were hardly bared anymore, but the little glimpse she still had of them vanished abruptly. He bent his head so she could pat him, not completely relaxed, but far less hostile than he had been moments ago.

Mabel giggled as she dug her hand into his soft fur. He was so fluffy! He butted her encouragingly, his head making contact with almost her entire upper body. He was being very careful, making sure not to do anything that might scare her again.

“Aw poor guy. You haven’t seen anyone in a while, have you?” She asked sadly. “It’s okay. You’re not alone anymore.”

Suddenly, Stan’s ears perked up, his head following moments later, gaze trained on the stairs. A second later, Mabel’s own ears picked up the noises he was hearing.

Thudthudthudthudthud –

Another eruption of barking, even more hostile than Stan’s had been. This was much younger –

Mabel’s eyes widened and she tried to call out but –

A dark blur flashed past, clearing the banister easily and leaping into the room. Dipper barrelled roughly into Mabel, knocking her aside with unexpected strength as he snarled and snapped at the other wolf, who was surprised into being driven back a step.

Stan quickly recovered and growled right back, starting forwards again. Dipper sprang in front of Mabel, refusing to let him any closer, snarling even more furiously, legs spread wide and body lowered to leap, not even letting up when his sister wrapped an arm around him to tug him back, frantically telling him to calm down.

“No, stop! It’s okay!”

Instead he shook her off, resuming his warnings, seemingly not realising how small he was in comparison to the other werewolf. He must have wondered why she was taking so long and come downstairs to check on her.

The bark Stan released this time was more of a boom. Dipper’s ears flattened for a single instant, but other than that, he gave no sign of backing off.

Mabel couldn’t say what was scariest about this situation: Dipper, Stan, the fact that they were on the verge of attacking each other, or the fact that she was caught in the middle. She was starting to cry again.

“Dipper!” she yelled, and –

Stan paused.

He looked between them both, taking in the boy’s protectiveness and the girl’s distress.

Taking in the closeness and familiarity they had with each other, despite their different shapes.

And made the connection.

Mabel saw the change immediately. His stance untensed entirely for the first time, his hackles lowering, his snarl cut off. He looked shocked, but also . . . well, soft wasn’t really a word she would often apply to Stan, but in this case, yes. There was a soft look in his eyes. Dipper saw the change too.

After some deliberation, Stan bypassed her brother easily by nudging his side strongly enough to knock him off balance, then by picking him up by the scruff of the neck. Dipper whined. Mabel was sure he would be saying something about that being unfair if he was human.

Stan moved over to the carpet in front of his armchair and deposited Dipper on it, giving him a familiar head-butt. Unsure at first, Dipper peered at Stan mistrustfully. Mabel waited with bated breath. More gently, Stan nosed him again. And that seemed to do it.

Dipper got the message that Stan wasn’t going to hurt anyone, and hesitantly returned the action. Stan gave him a lick, which the boy seemed pretty happy about, showing his tongue and even staying put while the large animal turned around to fetch Mabel, who was sighing with relief. He nudged at her insistently until she understood, virtually chasing her to the space in front of the armchair. She sat down giggling and watched as Stan circled, then lay down around them, pressing close as though touch-starved.

He probably is, thought Mabel. She wondered how long Stan had been shutting himself up for. That was one of the many questions she would be asking him tomorrow.

Stan was pretty comfortable to lie on, Mabel decided. She was more than happy to do so, and snuggled in next to Dipper, half-hugging him. It was like she was encased in a fluffy bundle from all sides.

Dipper . . .

“You okay?” she asked her brother quietly. She’d never seen him so aggressive before. It was worrying, how readily he’d leapt into action. Plus, this whole . . . reveal might have kind of shocked him. Was he okay after that?

He was already asleep.

They’d deal with it in the morning, apparently.

The sheer range of emotions that had flooded through her that night was making it pretty easy to drop off. She felt her heartrate slowing back down to normal, assisted by Stan’s deep, rhythmic breathing against her back.

Still, something far, far in the depths of her mind urged her not to sleep. There was a threat nearby.

She immediately felt awful.

Not just because of the thought itself, but because it might have been what Stan was thinking earlier. No doubt he was feeling ten times worse than her, now.

Steady movements brought her out of an impending spiral of dark thoughts. A large head bent down and pressed gently against hers. Everything’s alright. Mabel smiled, believing it.

Stan nudged her again before she could drift off. He found the elbow she had skinned when he’d pushed her over before his transformation and sniffed it.

“It’s alright.” Mabel whispered to her uncle, hugging him. “You didn’t mean to.”

Stan huffed discontentedly and curled tighter around the kids, reassuring them as best he could.

You’re safe.

She was asleep within seconds.

[ladylynse]

Crossroads: Part II

A Gravity Falls/Over the Garden Wall fanfiction

Happy birthday, @paperhoodie! Thanks again for drawing this lovely cover (also on deviantart).

Part I: Mabel and Dipper have dealt with a demon before, so when they wind up lost in the woods and are given two choices by a creepy kid with a lantern, they make sure to pick the third option—but every choice has consequences, even when you don’t play by the rules.

Part II: How much do you dare trust something that might not even be real? Memories, people...even reality itself?  (FFnet | AO3)

He became aware of the steady beeping first, and then aware of the fact that he was aware of it. More sounds and sensations swirled over him—the high-pitched whine of machinery, a firm mattress beneath him, the sharp smell of some sort of antiseptic, inconsistent waves of suffocating heat, a mouth that seemed completely deprived of saliva, and—childish babble?

Greg?

Greg!

Wirt tried to say something. He tried to move. He didn’t manage either. Not coherently, anyway. He managed to pry open his eyes—why was it so bright?—and lift a finger, but he felt stiff and exhausted. He wasn’t entirely sure he had actually managed to make a sound, either. If he had, it hadn’t been heard over Greg.

Greg was perched on the end of his bed in the hospital room—when had he ended up in the hospital?—and Wirt could feel the steady swinging of Greg’s feet through the mattress. Greg didn’t notice that he was awake; instead, Greg stared up at the ceiling, counting the dots on the tiles.

Greg’s voice—every sound, really—was distorted, as if Wirt were listening to it from underwater, but he could still make out the words. “Six hundred and forty-two, six hundred and forty-three, six hundred—”

A shrill series of beeps went off elsewhere, an alarm, but Greg continued unfazed.

The hum in the background grew louder, like someone had turned downed the volume on the rest of the world so that only the hum remained. Wirt shut his eyes again and tried to focus solely on Greg’s voice, but it was getting harder and harder to make out. He needed something to ground him. He needed…he needed….

The next time Wirt woke, Greg was gone. There was a nurse, doing…something…. Why couldn’t he think clearly? A syringe and an IV and—was that connected to his arm?

He tried to say something again and managed a sort of grunt that caught her attention. She smiled at him and said something, but there was water rushing in his ears, and he was just so tired….

Wirt lost track of time. Even once he became more lucid, everything seemed to blur together. Nothing made any sense, ether.

Greg came by daily, sometimes on his own but usually with at least one of their parents in tow. A couple of his friends stopped in, but never for very long; they’d all try to make small talk and then, when uncomfortable silence swelled too often for too long, invent an excuse to leave. No one really knew what to say.

He’d been in the hospital. He knew that much. He still wasn’t sure why. Until he’d caught sight of green leaves on the trees outside, he’d feared that it had never been summer at all, that it was still shortly after Halloween, that he’d never woken up until now and that everything he remembered—because he did still remember that, at least most of it—was just something invented by his subconscious.

Greg was the one who finally told him the story. No months’ long coma or anything terrible like that, just a horrible fever. Admittedly, it had been a fever that had stubbornly stayed upwards of a hundred and three for days, and with him eating nothing and sweating out or vomiting the little he did drink, his parents had bundled him up and taken him in, and there he had stayed.

Wirt remembered none of that.

“You weren’t acting like yourself,” Greg informed him the night Wirt was finally released. He sat on his bed, swinging his legs much like he had at the hospital; Wirt stood in front of him, desperate for answers. He had thought it was safer to ask questions in Greg’s room than in his; in here, their parents might think they were merely playing and not bother to listen in. “You kept saying weird things. Mom says you were delicious.”

Wirt frowned. “You mean delirious?”

Greg hummed and nodded. “But then the fever broke and you got better. I think it was because Jason Funderburker kissed you.” Wirt stared at him, but as Greg continued, blithely unaware of Wirt’s unease, Wirt realized he had been talking about his frog. “I wasn’t supposed to bring him in but he wanted to come visit you, too.”

Wirt swallowed and glanced at the table where the pet frog’s giant habitat sat, but it was empty. “I’ll have to thank him, then. Where is he?”

“In your room. He missed you.”

Right. He should have guessed. “How long was I gone?”

Greg’s legs stopped swinging. “Forever,” he said. Somehow, it didn’t sound like an exaggeration. “I’m glad you’re back now. Promise not to leave again?”

Wirt forced a smile on his face. “What makes you think I’m going to leave?” he asked instead, reaching over to ruffle Greg’s hair and diving to tickle him as he dodged.

The distraction worked. Wirt was glad; he couldn’t make that promise. Not yet. He didn’t think he could keep it yet.

It hadn’t been delirium. It hadn’t been a dream. It had been too real for that.

Mabel and Dipper, whoever they were, had helped him. Had freed him. He had to at least try to help them in return. He wasn’t sure how yet, wasn’t even sure if he’d be able to find them, but he was going to try.

“What are you doing?”

Oh, no. He’d hoped to get away before Greg found him. He turned as Greg trotted into his room and smiled. He didn’t want to lie to his brother; Greg didn’t deserve that. “I need to help a couple of friends.”

Greg was silent for a few seconds, taking in the duffel bag that was already stuffed full of clothes and toiletries and survival supplies and everything else Wirt thought he might need. Wirt braced himself for the inevitable questions: Why are you leaving? Where are you going?

Instead, he got, “Why are you packing your Halloween costume?”

“Because Summerween’s next week,” Wirt answered automatically, but even as he said it, he didn’t know if that was true. It was practically next week already, and he wasn’t sure when he’d met the twins (he was convinced they were twins, not just siblings). Time in the Unknown was different than it was here. Days there could be minutes here, so days here…. Mabel and Dipper were probably home by now.

Or they might never have made it back.

Then again, if time did pass so differently, it didn’t make sense that he’d lived two lives. Even if he couldn’t remember any more of his time in the Unknown than when he’d been with the twins, the lantern had been burning brightly; he’d been there for a while, or at least regularly. There wouldn’t have been time for years to pass between his visits. Something didn’t add up.

But they had been real. He knew that. He’d even gone to the library to do as much research on them and the little he knew about them as he could. He could recall everything from then clearly, much more vividly than if it had just been a dream. The names they had given him were Dipper and Mabel. They had a pet pig named Waddles and great-uncles named Stan and Ford. They had fought someone called Bill Cipher.

The names hadn’t proven useful, especially when the only one with a last name he knew was supposed to be a demon. But some of the other odd things they’d mentioned—Summerween and Weirdmageddon—had helped him narrow it down. He wasn’t sure how reliable the information was, of course, but every mention of those words—however sketchy—seemed to lead him to one place, and by combing through online newspapers, he’d been able to put some people with those names in that town.

It was a crazy idea, but he didn’t know what else to do.

So he was packing a bag, and he’d used his money to buy a bus ticket to Gravity Falls, and he hoped his parents wouldn’t kill him once they read the note he was planning to leave behind.

He had twenty minutes.

“That sounds fun. I’ll pack mine, too.”

“You’re not coming, Greg.”

“Why not?”

Wirt’s hands shook, so he stuffed the old army cloak into his suitcase to cover up his body’s betrayal. “Because I won’t be able to protect you.”

“Well, maybe I can protect you.”

That’s what I’m afraid of. Wirt didn’t want Greg to try to sacrifice himself like that again. He took a slow breath. “I need you to take care of Mom and Dad.”

“They can take care of themselves. They have each other. Who will you have if you don’t have me?”

Wirt dearly hoped the answer to that question wasn’t the Beast or any other demon, including this Bill Cipher, but he couldn’t explain anything. He couldn’t explain how he had seemingly been in two places at once, living two different lives. He couldn’t explain his lost time there or even his lost time here. What if none of it been real after all, and he’d simply imagined meeting Dipper and Mabel and pulled out some tidbits of information from his subconscious while in a feverish state?

Or was this the life which wasn’t real?

Wirt swallowed. He didn’t know. He wasn’t sure who he could trust. If that had been real and this wasn’t….

Nice illusions make the best traps. That’s what Mabel had said. And wasn’t she right?

You can be shown what you want to see. If you think everything is fine, you’re never going to fight it. How was he supposed to know what this was if illusions could be so convincing?

No. He had to trust that it was all real, somehow. As real as his previous trip over the garden wall and into those woods with Greg on Halloween. He didn’t have Dipper’s apparent understanding of deals with demons, but he could understand the gist of it. If Dipper had been right—partially right, considering this life was real, too—and he had still belonged to the Beast, then maybe he had been more useful to the Beast as a puppet. And maybe he had stopped the Woodsman from blowing out the lantern. But maybe he had still followed Greg back to this world, had still been able to live his life here….

Until the Beast needed him again. Until he was called back. To guard the woods. Keep watch for lost souls. Ferry people across the lake.

Keep the lantern burning.

And as long as that happened, the Beast didn’t need him the entire time. The lantern could have burned without its guardian in that quiet corner of the woods as long as he returned regularly to harvest Edelwood to feed it—and to keep children from finding their way out of the woods so that their souls could be claimed by the Beast, too.

He couldn’t remember falling ill at all this year, didn’t know if it had happened with any regularity or if this last fever had been mere coincidence. He doubted it, though. Fever, flame…. It had to be connected.

Especially since he couldn’t remember what had happened before he’d woken in the hospital.

Not really.

Dipper had said something about keeping the lantern lit, about being more useful as a puppet than as a tree, and then….

And then nothing, not even a blur or the vague sense of a fading dream.

That scared him.

Even more terrifying was the fact that he didn’t know if it was over.

This was the first time he was aware of it, but that was because Mabel and Dipper had snapped him out of it while he’d still been there. That didn’t mean he was free. It didn’t mean the Beast was gone, that the lantern had gone out, or even that Dipper had been right in thinking it a loophole. It didn’t mean the Beast couldn’t pull him back there and use him again.

“Wirt?”

He couldn’t remember what Greg had said, if he’d even asked a question.

“I’m going to go pack. You need me.”

Wirt turned, but Greg was already disappearing. No, he wanted to say. Don’t. What if I can’t protect you? I don’t want you mixed up in this. Not again. Please, just stay here.

But the words didn’t come. Greg was right: Wirt did need him. He was terrified. He didn’t know what he was getting into. Having Greg’s unshakable faith by his side would be a comfort.

But losing it, and knowing it was his fault? Could he really risk that? Again?

Wirt sighed, pulled out his wallet, and began counting his money; if this was going to be a trip for two, he needed to make sure he had enough to cover everything. Greg was not going to suffer because of him. Not again. Not in this. “I’m going to protect you, Greg. I swear, this time, I’ll keep you safe.”

The bus stop in Gravity Falls was nothing more than a sign and a bench on the outskirts of town. Wirt stepped off the bus and looked around uncertainly, carrying both his bag and Greg’s. Greg was humming as he followed Wirt. He didn’t feel…whatever this was. If he did, it didn’t bother him.

It wasn’t something Wirt could put his finger on. It felt like he’d stepped into an electrical field, like the hairs on his arms should be standing up even though they lay flat. He couldn’t hear anything, but there was still…something. Not a hum, exactly, but a…a….

There was a small pop. Wirt turned, spotting the redheaded girl leaning against a tree on the other side of the road as she asked, “So, who are you two attached to?”

“Um….”

“I’m Greg,” Greg said, bounding across the road to the girl as she blew another pink bubble. “That’s my brother, Wirt. We’re on an adventure!”

The girl popped this bubble, too, and cracked a smile. She uncrossed her arms and crouched down to Greg’s level. “Nice to meet ya, Greg. Now, what makes you think you and Wirt are going to find an adventure in boring old Gravity Falls?”

“Not sure I’d call it boring,” Wirt muttered, because if this place had demons, too, it couldn’t be. And Mabel may not have explained what she meant by Weirdmageddon, but if half of what he’d found online had even a smidgeon of truth….

The girl’s eyebrows shot up and she looked over at Wirt. “Sounds like you’d enjoy a trip to the Mystery Shack.”

“What’s the Mystery Shack?” Greg asked.

“Exactly what it sounds like.” The girl winked. “It also happens to be where I’m headed; my break’s over. I brought the golf cart if you’d care for a ride. I’m Wendy, by the way.”

Wirt had no idea where he should start looking, and he vaguely recalled something about the Mystery Shack, so he smiled. “That would be nice, thanks.”

“Follow me. I’m just parked over here,” Wendy said, pointing, “and it’s not far. If Greg doesn’t mind squishing in the middle or sitting on your lap, Wirt, you can toss your bags into the back.”

“What brings you out here if you’re just on your break?” Wirt asked, glancing over at Wendy. She looked like she was about his age, but she didn’t seem the type to just hang out at a bus stop for no reason. “You can’t have very long.”

He saw the smile drop from her face, and her expression became more guarded. “I like the fresh air,” was all she said. He couldn’t bring himself to believe her, but he didn’t push it.

Once they were all settled in the golf cart, their luggage safely stowed in the rack at the back, the trip wasn’t very long. Wirt suspected Wendy had driven carefully for Greg’s sake, and he was grateful for that; the cart certainly looked battered enough to have been rolled at some point. He was already regretting allowing Greg to come along. He wasn’t even sure what he was doing here anymore.

Wendy stopped around back and told them they were free to bring their bags inside for now—“Safer than leaving them out in the open.”—although Wirt had no idea who would steal their luggage here. He wasn’t even sure they had followed a road into the place; the main road looked to come from the other direction.

That’s not to say the trail wasn’t well signed; it seemed like every few trees, there was a sign declaring the Mystery Shack, with an arrow pointing the way. But he couldn’t understand why these people would be advertising for it from anywhere but the main road. No one would be coming towards it from the woods.

Granted, from the looks of the place, he wasn’t sure too many people would be coming towards it from the road, either. It looked barely a step above the place where Lorna and Auntie Whispers had lived. Ramshackle, though not abandoned. Falling apart despite a patchwork of repairs, though clean enough to be loved.

The chime above the door went as Wendy led them in, and Wirt heard, “Wendy, did they c— Oh, welcome, newcomers! Behold the Mystery Shack, where all—”

The spiel continued, but Wirt stopped listening in favour of staring. He’d had his doubts just seeing this place from the outside, but now…. It was all so obviously fake. He could see the stitches holding the mermaid together, the antlers on that jackalope were much too large to even be plausible, the merchandise looked cheap and corny…. The missing S from the giant sign on the roof seemed to make the name true. This was more hack than anything else. Why else would there a wax head of Larry King just sitting on a shelf, glaring at them all from behind the counter? This place was one which was too confusing for people to make sense of it, not somewhere that offered a real sense of mystery.

“Wirt, Wirt, look at this! It’s just like that painting at Unkie Endicott’s! Of the ghost lady who wasn’t a ghost! And I think her eyes are moving.” Greg was grinning as he walked back and forth in front of the painting, staring at the canvas.

“You’ll have to pay if you want to see more than just the shop,” Wendy added as she plucked their bags from Wirt’s grip and slid behind the counter with them. “We might have a new Mr. Mystery, but the rules of the business haven’t changed.”

Mr. Mystery smiled rather sheepishly. “We have added a family discount now.”

“They got off the bus themselves,” Wendy said before Wirt could come up with some excuse as to why their parents weren’t around. “Apparently, they’re looking for an adventure. I figured this would be a good place to start.”

“Come on, Wirt.” Greg tugged on his arm. “Let’s go inside!”

“I don’t think….” This was the wrong place to start, but Greg was looking at him that way, and how much could he deny him? He was only here because of Wirt. He’d volunteered to go headlong into danger because of Wirt. Didn’t he deserve a bit of fun before that? “Um, you can go ahead of me, okay?”

He expected Greg to say something in protest, but he just chirped, “Okay!” and bounded through the door to the rest of the building. (Wirt wasn’t sure if it could properly be called a museum when it just looked like a tourist trap.) Mr. Mystery laughed and followed him, presumably to give whatever passed as a tour or maybe to make sure Greg didn’t break anything, which left Wirt with Wendy.

“Five bucks for kids,” she said. “Are you going in, too?”

“Um.” Wirt fumbled with his wallet for a moment before pulling out a bill and passing it to Wendy. “No. I can’t. I…geez, I didn’t think this through enough. Is there a good hotel in town? Or any hotel in town?” Now that he’d seen the size of this place—or rather, the size of the bus stop and one of the main tourist attractions—he was beginning to understand why there had been so little information about it in general. “I need to figure out where we’re going to stay.”

Wendy blew another bubble of gum and managed to answer without popping it. “Hotel’s not rebuilt yet. It wasn’t a priority, I guess; we don’t get a lot of people through here. But I can put in a good word with the guy who lives alone in the mansion on the hill if you don’t mind doing a few chores to earn your keep. That’ll mean more to him than money.”

Wirt was in no position to be picky, and it couldn’t be worse than what they’d encountered in the Unknown. “That would be great.”

Wendy sucked the bubble back into her mouth and then put her hands on the counter and leaned across towards him. “Consider it done, then. But really, Wirt, you wanna tell me why you’re here?”

He offered her a smile, though it probably wasn’t very believable. “We’re going on an adventure.”

“In Gravity Falls?”

He’d expected her to question why he and Greg were alone, not doubt their choice of destination. “Yes?” It came out sounding like a question, even to his ears.

“Why here?”

Wirt swallowed. “Why does the hotel need to be rebuilt?”

“Burned down,” Wendy answered without missing a beat. “But you, you’re here for a reason, aren’t you? Gravity Falls isn’t exactly a place you’d just pick off a map. So why come here?”

The truth was crazy. Wendy might have lived crazy, too, but Wirt didn’t know that for sure, so he settled on a piece of it. “A friend told me about it. She was going to be visiting here, too. She’s looking forward to Summerween.”

Wendy raised her eyebrows. “Summerween’s tonight,” she said, “and you can’t really expect me to believe that you’re following a girl out here when you came with your little brother.”

“It’s not like that,” Wirt insisted, his cheeks burning as if to give lie to his statement. He was kinda sorta dating Sara, if he could believe the life he’d been living here, and he hardly even knew Mabel. “I just owe her and her brother a favour.” They’d saved him, but Wendy wasn’t going to understand that, and saying it would invite more questions than he could answer. He was having enough trouble with this impromptu interrogation as it was.

Wendy’s eyes narrowed, but the next second, she was leaning back in her chair as if nothing was wrong. “Maybe I can help you then, kid. Who are you looking for?”

“Mabel,” Wirt answered, a little annoyed at being called a kid (he wasn’t even that much shorter than her; she didn’t need to treat him like he was Greg’s age) but not annoyed enough to make a big deal out of it when he could use her help.

Wendy sat up. “Mabel. You’re looking for Mabel? Mabel Pines?”

Pines sounded right, but he’d never been sure if that really was her last name. “Mabel and Dipper.” Wendy could take it as either confirmation or denial, depending on the truth. “They helped me with something.”

“When?”

The question was earnest, but Wirt wasn’t entirely sure why it mattered. “Last week.”

“Last Tuesday?”

That was oddly specific. “I don’t remember.”

Wendy sighed. “Look, I’ll be honest with you here, okay? You’re right. Mabel and Dipper are supposed to be here. But they’re not. They’ve gone missing. Their parents thought they might have run away to come here a bit early, but they never turned up, and if it’s a kidnapping, there’s been no ransom. When Stan and Ford caught wind of this, they started searching everywhere, but even they can’t find them.” She said this as if Stan and Ford were far more likely to find the twins than the police, who were undoubtedly also looking for them if they were missing.

But maybe they weren’t really missing.

He’d met them in the Unknown, after all.

Except that didn’t make sense. No matter how many times he tried to reconcile it, it didn’t add up. He and Greg had hardly been gone any time at all. They’d returned the same night despite spending more than one night in the Unknown. But then he’d woken up in the hospital again after being back in the Unknown. He remembered months of this reality, months he wasn’t even sure he’d really lived if he’d been in the Unknown all along. But it was summer now, just as it should be, and it had been summer for Mabel and Dipper, too…. But then again, the lantern had been burning brightly, the same lantern that the Woodsman had worked so tirelessly to keep lit. Left alone for too long, it should have gone out.

Something wasn’t right.

Something wasn’t real.

Or something was blurring the lines.

“I know that look.” Wendy again. “You know something. Please, tell me. They’re my friends, too.”

Why put signs in the woods, advertising where there was no road for them to be seen?

Wirt took a step back.

He never should have let Greg go off on his own. The Mystery Shack was small; that was to his advantage. If he yelled, Greg would hear him. But if he yelled, they would know—

Wendy vaulted over the counter, somehow easily clearing the various knickknacks and the jar of fake eyeballs for sale on the side. Her feet hit the floor with a thud. A hollow thud. There was a basement under here. He wondered whether this place, with all its fake attractions, hid its secrets below or above or in plain sight.

“Wirt. What do you know? Tell me. It’s important.”

Always doing what you’re told. Beatrice’s voice, sounding through his head. He hadn’t imagined meeting her any more than he had imagined meeting the twins, but if this wasn’t imagination, either….

If neither was imagination, then something was fabrication, and he didn’t know which. Not the twins, surely, if Wendy seemed to know them, but….

“Darkened dreams where demons run,” Wirt whispered as he took another step back, “twisting truth till all is done.”

Nice illusions make the best traps.

Just because he was free of the Unknown, it didn’t mean he was free of the Beast. This might be a trick, part of some plan he didn’t understand. He didn’t know what had happened. Dipper and Mabel must have done something, but what if he wasn’t really back? What if this was just the dream world? Did that mean that the Beast was controlling him back in the Unknown?

He stepped back against something—the vending machine, his memory supplied—and Wendy’s hand shot out to catch his arm. “Wirt! What’s going on? What demons are running around?”

He shook his head even as her grip tightened. That was just a snatch of poetry that seemed to fit his situation. Everything felt twisted, sculpted to suit the Beast, and he didn’t know—

Wendy pulled him up by his shirt and looked him in the eye. “Spill,” she hissed as he yelped and then found himself struggling for air, feet kicking uselessly against smooth plastic in an effort to find purchase and maybe help him get free. “Now. Dipper and Mabel are in trouble, and if you don’t tell me what you know—”

“Wirt!” came Greg’s cry, barely overrode by Mr. Mystery’s, “Wendy, what are you doing?”

Wendy dropped him, but one hand was closed around his wrist before he could run. “Soos, he knows what happened to Dipper and Mabel.”

Mr. Mystery—Soos—looked startled and put one of his hands on Greg’s head. It was meant to keep him from running as much as to calm him, Wirt suspected bitterly. “How could they know?”

“Don’t know. The squirt might be clueless, but this one definitely isn’t.”

“Wirt?” Greg asked slowly, giving truth to Wendy’s words. “What is she talking about?”

Wirt, not convinced he could break free of Wendy’s grip, just shook his head.

“I thought we came here for an adventure,” Greg said. “To help your friends. Like we helped Beatrice and she helped us.”

Wirt closed his eyes. “I wasn’t lying. I am trying to help them. But I need to figure out how first.” He looked at Greg, knowing he was the only one who was going to understand the significance of the next statement. “I met them in the Unknown.”

Wirt saw Soos and Wendy exchange glances as Greg tilted his head. “I don’t remember them.”

“That’s because you weren’t there.”

“But we got back together.”

Wirt shook his head again. “No. We didn’t. Or maybe we did and I…. I don’t know. I just know I was back there. And they helped me get back here. I think. I don’t know. I don’t know anything for sure. I can’t remember exactly what happened.” He turned to Wendy. “I think they might still be there.”

“And where exactly is there?” demanded Wendy.

“The Unknown,” Wirt repeated, knowing from Wendy’s narrowed eyes that she wasn’t impressed with that answer. “It’s…. I don’t know. It’s another place. People can get lost there, but things aren’t…. It’s not like here.”

“Another dimension?” asked Soos.

Wirt shrugged helplessly, but Wendy must have agreed because she finally released him. “Sounds like it. So how do we go there and bring them back?”

“I don’t know.”

“But you said—”

“I don’t know! I can’t remember. When I was with Greg, we got lost trying to find our way back to the main road. We didn’t even realize we’d crossed anything, let alone ended up in a different dimension if that’s really what it is.”

“Then how did you get out of there?”

Wirt hesitated, not sure how much he could trust his memories, and Greg said, “I just remember being cold and wet. Was that from the snow?”

“No, we’d fallen into the water. I managed to get us ashore.” If that memory was real. Maybe it had just been the snow. Or maybe…. But he didn’t want to think that this world was the fabrication. “That’s not what happened to me last time. I don’t know how I got back here. I didn’t even realize I’d left here and was back in the Unknown until I met Mabel and Dipper. I…. It’s like I woke up and they were there.”

Wendy crossed her arms. “So what do you know?”

Wirt spread his hands. “I don’t know how much of this is accurate. The Beast…. The Beast is a demon, I guess. He haunts the forest and feeds on lost souls, and he was….” Wirt stopped. There was no good way to say this. “Dipper thought the Beast had been controlling me—”

“But he had to let you go!” Greg cried. “He promised. You could go home if I stayed with him instead.”

Wirt’s chest tightened as Greg confirmed the twins’ theory. He hadn’t wanted that part to be right. He didn’t want to think that Greg would ever feel obliged to give up so much for him. He was the little brother; it was Wirt’s job to protect him, not the other way around. He’d done a terrible job of it.

“You’re not there now, kiddo,” Wendy said, “which might explain some of this.” She had taken up a defensive stance and didn’t take her eyes off Wirt.

Soos held up one finger. “Um, quick thing, but had been controlling you? As in not any longer or not currently? That seems like an important distinction.”

Wirt sighed. “I’m not sure about that, either,” he admitted. “Dipper thought he could find a loophole so that it would be over, and maybe that’s what happened. Maybe that’s why I’m back here now.” Hopefully.

“But you never left,” Greg said in a small voice.

Wirt swallowed. “I was in the hospital last Tuesday, wasn’t I?”

Greg nodded. “The fever wouldn’t break. Mom took you in the night before.”

Wendy looked from Wirt to Greg and back again before stating the obvious. “So you don’t know if you’re really safe. All you know is that you’re back here. Without the Beast, as far as you can tell.” From her tone, she could guess a number of the things he hadn’t explicitly said. Wirt nodded anyway. “And he’s haunting your dreams?”

“Not…. Well, maybe? I…. I’m not actually sure. It’s complicated. I think…. I think he’s been pulling me back into the Unknown somehow.” It made his stomach twist to think about it. If neither world was a fabrication, then maybe he had been living in two different realities. Maybe the reason he never seemed to lose much time was because he was back under the Beast’s control whenever he was close enough to the In Between for the Beast to reach out and pull him through to the Unknown.

Whenever he slept. Whenever he dreamed. If he’d left a piece of himself back in the Unknown—

“Is this my fault?” whispered Greg.

“No, it’s not.” Wirt stared at Wendy, daring her to contradict him. She didn’t. Maybe she had a little brother, too. He hesitated and looked over at Greg. “You escaped. You’re free. That’s the important part. So try not to blame yourself for my mistakes. Can you do that?”

Greg nodded.

Wirt bit his lip. “I wish I understood this better. I’d give anythi—”

Wendy’s hand was suddenly clamped over his mouth. “Don’t finish that thought. Don’t even think it. That’s too dangerous, even in here. He’s too close.”

Who’s too close? But Wirt knew the answer to that, now that he knew the Beast wasn’t the only demon to roam the realms. Mabel and Dipper had been worried about Bill Cipher. He, too, was supposed to be gone, just like the Beast, but—

It’s usually not that easy to get rid of a demon.

Since Dipper had evidently been talking from experience, he should know. But they wouldn’t have told Wirt about their demon unless they suspected he could still get to them despite whatever they had done. Hadn’t they thought this Bill Cipher was the one who had trapped them in the Unknown? Maybe demons liked deals enough to strike them with each other and this one ensured the Pines twins were lost in the woods so the Beast could claim them.

In all fairness, Wirt wasn’t exactly sure someone like Mabel could ever be claimed by the Beast—she was entirely too much like Greg for that to happen any way but deliberately—but it wasn’t likely that demons actually struck fair deals.

Whatever had been between him and the Beast…. He had to hope that it was over, that Dipper had successfully found a loophole. Except it couldn’t be over, not if Mabel and Dipper were still in there. He’d…he’d have to find a way back. Not with Greg; he wouldn’t risk Greg again. And he might not know Wendy or Soos, but he didn’t really want to risk them, either.

If…if he didn’t come back, someone would have to see Greg home, and Wirt was sure they’d do that.

“I’m calling Stan,” Wendy said, putting her cell phone up to her ear. “He and Ford need to hear everything you can tell them. Until they get here, stay at Old Man McGucket’s. No exploring. We can’t risk that.”

“Risk what?” Greg asked, looking up at Soos.

No one answered.

Wirt had no idea where Stan and Ford had been coming from, but the Pines brothers arrived at Gravity Falls within two hours. Wendy had insisted on babysitting them in the meantime, even though Greg had spent much of that time happily chatting with Fiddleford McGucket, the man who owned the mansion Wendy had mentioned. Wirt wasn’t entirely sure how someone like Fiddleford could afford to live here, but he knew better than to ask. He was just grateful to have a roof over their heads while they were here.

Wirt had half-hoped that Greg would set off exploring the mansion before everyone else arrived, but he listened very attentively as Wirt recounted what he remembered. Soos had closed up shop for the occasion, but even with Greg counting among Wirt’s audience of six, it felt like there were too many people here. This was his story. His mistake. Did they really all need to bear witness to it?

Wirt knew that was silly; it just meant he had six more people who could help him figure this out. And as reluctant as he had been to involve Greg, having his brother here helped to ground him. Of course, Greg would occasionally chime in with questions Wirt couldn’t answer—Was the lake near where we took the ferry to Adelaide’s? So what happened to the Woodsman? Couldn’t you have wished on a star and visited Cloud City, too?—which invariably led to a discussion of the first time they’d ended up in the Unknown. Greg remembered that time with far more fondness than Wirt did. To him, it really had just been an adventure.

Not a nightmare.

The discussion invariably turned to ways to get Dipper and Mabel back safely. While the others started arguing over different tactics and possible strategies, Ford pulled Wirt into another room. Wirt might not have been able to figure out who was who right after meeting Stan and Ford, but it became very clear that Ford was the more serious of the two, for all that everyone seemed to care deeply about the younger Pines twins. Stan liked to joke, coming up with crazy ideas that must have some hope of working since they weren’t immediately dismissed by the others, while Ford….

Ford had a look in his eye Wirt recognized from the face that had been haunting him in the mirror since he’d woken up in that hospital room. There was grim determination in there, sure, but it was touched by fear. Not just fear of the unknown, of not knowing what had happened, but fear born of the intimate knowledge of what may have happened.

It made Wirt think there had been far more going on in this town than the newspapers had ever reported, even the columns that seemed at first glance to be fanciful stories written merely for entertainment.

The door shut on the others, closing them off, and Ford turned to Wirt. “I’m not going to leave those kids to the mercy of another demon,” he said quietly, “but I’m not about to dismiss the possibility that this is a trick, either. I’ve been tricked too many times to blindly believe anything anymore.”

Wirt didn’t know what to say to that—he still didn’t know if this was a trick, either—so he just nodded.

“If Dipper was right, and I have no reason to believe he wasn’t, you were possessed by the Beast. Whether or not Dipper truly found a loophole in your deal with him is a moot point as long as that connection is still there. We’ll need to break that to prevent further interpretations of your contract, especially if you aren’t sure of the terms.”

Wirt opened his mouth to ask how he was supposed to do that when Ford added, “But until then, we can use that connection to our advantage.”

“How?”

Ford smiled, but it was far from reassuring. “Meet me at the Mystery Shack in three hours, and I’ll show you.”

Soos apparently had to go out for a family dinner at the local café—Wirt didn’t ask, though there was obviously more to the story judging by the looks he’d received—and Stan had muttered about seeing to a few things so they could mount the rescue mission. Fiddleford had gotten excited about this prospect and stuck to Stan like glue, which he hadn’t looked thrilled about. Ford had obviously been expected to join them, but he’d said something about splitting up in order to have enough time to cover everything. The argument had still been going on when Wendy had pulled them away and told them to find costumes to wear.

She had agreed to take them out for Summerween before she met up with her friends, though she did say it would be fine if they decided to stick around. When Wendy had handed them both pails for candy, Wirt hadn’t argued. He didn’t mind the implication that he needed a babysitter this time; now, it worked to his advantage. It meant he could be sure Greg was sufficiently distracted.

Ford had never told him to come alone, but if Wirt was going to keep Greg out of this, he had to be sneaky about it. When they were passing the edge of town nearest the Mystery Shack, Wirt bent down to tie his shoe and waved the others ahead, promising that he’d catch up soon. By some stroke of luck, Greg believed him, and Wendy—if she had any doubts—didn’t call him on it.

Wirt fiddled with his shoelace for a few moments, waiting for them to get farther ahead before running into the woods. This time, the random signage was to his advantage, and he’d smuggled a flashlight along with a first aid kit under his cloak, so he could see where he was going without depending on the light of the (admittedly waxing) moon now that the sun had set.

Despite that, he nearly jumped out of his skin when a voice said, “That disguise won’t fool anyone.”

Wirt scrambled for the fallen flashlight before climbing back to his feet and brushing at his clothes. He swung the flashlight around wildly, looking for the source of the voice. The beam bounced off tree trunks and broken branches, leafy shrubs and spider webs, but nothing— “Who’s there?”

“Little lower there, Stretch. We ain’t all as tall as you.”

Wirt swallowed but lowered the flashlight. If he weren’t already acquainted with talking frogs, pumpkin-wearing skeletons, or bluebirds that had once been people, he would have found the idea of gnomes more disconcerting. Self-consciously, he straightened his hat. “Um…can I help you?”

“More me that’s helping you, unless you’re going to take over my post. I pulled the short straw when Shmebulock overindulged again.” The gnome squinted at Wirt and scratched at his grey beard. “No, you’re not from here. You’re one of those that’ve been drawn here.”

Wirt blinked. “What?”

The gnome pointed in the direction Wirt had been running. “The statue. It calls some of ‘em. Like you. ‘Smy job to make sure you don’t get where you’re going. So turn around or I’ll raise the alarm.”

“What?”

“Go on. Turn. Go back wherever you came from.”

“But…. I can’t.”

“Suit yourself,” said the gnome, and then he whistled, a shrill piercing thing that had Wirt wincing and reaching to cover his ears.

The whistle cut off abruptly. Wirt lowered his hands slowly, noticing an increased rustling in the underbrush that he wasn’t naïve enough to attribute to wind or the usual forest wildlife. And then his sweeping flashlight beam caught a second gnome, and a third, and then he started seeing them by the dozens.

He took a step back. “You don’t understand.”

“We understand plenty,” the first gnome said, grinning in a feral way that showed off rows of sharp teeth. He didn’t advance, but Wirt had no illusions about what would happen if he tried to continue in this direction. He didn’t want to get mobbed.

Wirt took another step back and shook his head, for all the good that would do. “I don’t care about whatever statue thing you’re talking about. I just need to get to the Mystery Shack.”

More gnomes had appeared, every eye tracking him. It was unnerving.

Wirt didn’t know what else to do, so he kept talking. “I’m—I’m trying to help my friends. Maybe you know them. Mabel and Dipper Pines?”

The hushed silence erupted into chatter, and finally a different gnome stepped forward, this one looking younger than most of the others. “You are acting on behalf of Mabel?”

“Um…I guess?”

“Or for Mabel?”

“Uh.” Wirt didn’t know why this mattered. “For her? She and Dipper—”

“We could tie him up,” a third gnome suggested.

“Throw him in the lake,” said another.

“—gag him—”

“—leave ‘im for the Manotaurs—”

“—the Multi-Bear—”

Wirt didn’t understand half of the snippets of conversation he caught, but he didn’t need to. “She needs my help!” he yelled over the din. “They both do. And they won’t get that if I can’t get to the Mystery Shack.”

The gnome who had been questioning him held up a hand, and with some grumblings, the others quieted. “Carson, escort him to the Mystery Shack. Don’t show him any mercy if he tries to lose you and double back. Steve and Jason, take his shift. Looks like this is an extra security night.” There were a few more mutterings, but no one challenged the arrangement, and Wirt soon found himself with the first gnome as his escort.

The others—except, presumably, for Steve and Jason, and the brown-bearded one who had been giving orders—vanished with unsettling stealth, quite different from the show they’d made in appearing.

Wirt, happy enough to leave behind whatever that had been, followed Carson in silence for a moment before finally asking, “What statue?”

“We don’t talk about it.”

“But I don’t know what it is!”

“That’s the way to keep it.”

“But what did you mean when you said I was drawn to it?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“But—”

“No one’ll tell you differently.” Carson picked up his pace, moving much faster than something with such short legs should. Wirt ended up practically jogging after him and spending all his energy trying to keep the gnome in sight and not eating a mouthful of dirt, which effectively put an end to the questioning.

He panicked when he finally lost sight of Carson entirely, only to hear, “Thanks for the candy, Stretch!” and realize that he could see the Mystery Shack through the trees—and remember that his candy pail had been left behind in the forest.

It was a good trade, as far as Wirt was concerned. He would’ve ended up giving most of his candy to Greg anyway.

Barring a few flickering lights, the Mystery Shack was mostly dark when Wirt approached. The steps creaked under his weight, and he suddenly found its name much more fitting in this atmosphere. He knocked twice and tried the door. It was unlocked, but all he saw inside was a lava lamp set up on the counter by the cash register and the glow of the vending machine on the opposite wall.

“You sure you know what you’re getting into?”

Wirt shrieked and spun. That hadn’t been Carson’s voice, nor Ford’s. It had almost sounded like—

His flashlight beam caught the wax head of Larry King.

It winked at him.

He turned away quickly, sliding down to sit with his back against the counter. Maybe this was all a mistake. Surely this place was just proof that he wasn’t really back in the real world yet, that this was all just another fabrication—

The vending machine’s buttons suddenly lit up in a particular pattern. As he watched, it silently swung forward as if it were on a hinge to reveal a gaping hole. Somewhere below, light pulsed. Wirt could just make out stairs before darkness ate away at them again.

In for a penny, in for a pound?

He climbed back to his feet and aimed his flashlight at the stairs. They looked sturdy enough, and obviously someone was already down there….

He went carefully, keeping one hand along the wall above what looked to be the remains of a missing railing. The other hand held the flashlight so it illuminated both his feet and the stairs before him. Very quickly, however, he didn’t need it; the light from below grew stronger, and as he put his flashlight away, he found himself in a laboratory of some sort.

Correction: what had once been a laboratory of some sort and had since been abandoned.

Wirt’s eyes swept over a number of exposed wires and clearly cobbled-together circuitry that were visible under the flickering lights. More than one screen had odd stripes of colour across it, and a couple were even cracked. He bit his lip and edged away from the nearest shower of sparks coming from a thick cable connected to a lever sticking out of the floor. The movement didn’t take him any nearer Ford, who was bending over some kind of key panel. “Is this…safe?”

Ford didn’t even turn around. “No.”

“Then why are we even down here? This place looks like a fire waiting to happen!”

This time, Ford did look at Wirt. “We don’t have a choice. We need to rip a hole into another dimension. I’ve done what repairs I can in the time we have, but I don’t want to leave Dipper and Mabel in another nightmare for any longer than I have to. Now come here. I need to analyze your brainwaves if I’m going to find the right dimension.”

“You…what?”

Ford sighed. “That Unknown of yours isn’t the only dimension. If the Beast is tied to it and you’re tied to the Beast, then you’re the best option for finding the right place. We’re much safer if we aren’t doing this blind, and from the sounds of it, you’ve been there frequently.” He held up his hands, which contained what looked like suction cups on the end of wires. “Come here.”

Wirt swallowed but allowed Ford to attach him to the machine. “What happens if this goes wrong?”

“Depending on what happens, you might not even know.”

“Comforting,” Wirt muttered. His fingers tightened their grip on his hat and twisted. “What, uh, are you hoping is going to happen?”

“Something I never wanted to see again.” Ford handed him a length of rope and a clip, pointed to a metal grip attached to the console, and added, “Tie yourself on.”

Wirt did as he was told, trying his best to mimic Ford’s own makeshift harness as the man fiddled with something on the console. The numbers on the nearest screen looked specific, but they weren’t coordinates. If it was part of a code, it seemed too complicated to be easily broken, even by someone like Ford who talked as if he’d done this sort of thing before. The numbers changed even when Ford seemed to barely touch a dial, and it all looked a little too much like guesswork for Wirt’s comfort. Needing a rope didn’t exactly fill him with confidence, either. “What’s this for?”

In answer, Ford walked over to a giant lever on the floor and threw his weight into pushing it forward.

Light exploded.

Wirt squawked and instinctively closed his eyes, but it wasn’t enough. Colours danced against his eyelids, red shining through, and then—

Darkness began eating away at the light, a tiny solar eclipse.

Gravity decided to stop working properly.

Wirt’s hat was torn from his grip. He saw it fly through the portal, there and gone in the blink of an eye. He was already feet first towards it, so he twisted in a futile attempt to reach the tiny metal handle he’d attached himself to. He could see the knot of his harness slipping, weaker than the pull of the portal.

The wires tore loose from his head.

Behind him, the portal flickered.

“Just hold on!” Ford yelled. “I’m going to bring them back.” He was reaching to unclip his own harness, to let the portal drag him in. “Just keep the doorway open!”

The knot worked itself free.

Rope burned through his grip as he flew backwards.

Wirt’s scream was torn from his throat, and then the lab—Ford—everything—was gone.

Next or see more fics

[sometipsygnostalgic]

JUST FINISHED GRAVITY FALLS

weirdmageddon was amazing! FAR better than most finales tend to be.

i wanted to know what the zodiac thing was all about though... i’d never seen it before but it was obviously important to the fans who had theorised about it.... couldnt we at least see what it would have done???? it didn’t have to be the final conflict!

ANYWAY i dont have as much to say about gravity falls as adventure time for obvious reasons so im going to rank it... Without further ado, it’s time to heavily overthink about cartoons!!!

Animation: 5 out of 5 hats - this is one of the most BRILLIANTLY ANIMATED childrens cartoon shows ive seen. there’s no weird inbetweens, the lighting for each scene is absolutely spot-on, it looks and feels amazing! honestly gravity falls looks like one of the strongest arguments for using script-driven shows instead of storyboard-driven shows, because cartoon network has never in its life produced something that looks this good.  When it used 3D CGI it was implemented smoothly. The characters had no absence of body language and cues either, it was never boring to look at. Disney does it again!!!

Humor: 4 out of 5 hats - While I dont think this show is the literal funniest thing I’ve ever watched, it is consistently entertaining throughout the entire series which is more than I can say for the two cartoons (AT and SU) that i’m unfairly comparing it to. Humor is one of GF’s strongpoints, because the jokes it throws at you out of complete nowhere will always have you on ground. I laughed SO hard during this marathon, and the jokes are obscure enough that I’ll probably do the same thing on a rewatch. The animation helps significantly too. The character designs alone, especially Mabel and her sweaters, allow for plenty of visual humor. Soos is the sort of character that you dont know what hes going to do next. Grunkle Stan conning people got some of the hardest laughs out of me. Wendy is just.... Wendy reminds me so hard of early Marceline, except she will occasionally do something really cool cos shes from a family of lumberjacks. Let’s not forget Waddles, the MVP in the humor department.

Story: 3 out of 5 hats - If I made this post yesterday, I’d have ranked it 2 out of 5 hats. I never felt that there was any “story” to gravity falls, only some kind of ARG that added nothing to the experience because none of the questions were solvable until the answers had been revealed. But the second half of season 2 ups the ante on story by focusing on the Pines family and their relationships to each other, and you can feel tension rise especially when Dipper starts to hang aound Ford a little too much and you sense that poor Mabel is gonna be left in the dust just like Stan before her. Weirdmageddon also was way more entertaining than I expected! And how it ENDED? Oh jesus! The show’s final scenes were heartbreaking, if I’d been following for longer I might have started crying.

Characterisation: 4 out of 5 hats- holy crap, it’s just so much fun seeing the Pines family play off of each other. Each group has an entertaining dynamic, whether it’s playful like Mabel, Soos, and Wendy’s shenanigans, or more serious like Stan and Ford’s conflict. There was barely any time throughout the entire series that I was annoyed by how someone was acting, or thought that it was out of place and agitating. I think I might be giving this point a rather generous score because of how feelgood it was, rather than complex or deep, which in many areas it wasnt. For example earlier in the show the conflicts felt dumb, like the Jurassic Park episode where everyone was acting vaguely out of character to cause a sense of drama? idk. But later on it got more heartfelt, if predictable. Where else do I think it can do better?

Worldbuilding: 2 out of 5 hats - Yep, the area where I think Gravity Falls does the worst is worldbuilding. For 2 big reasons: The wasted potential of Gravity Falls itself, and the way its inhabitants were used. Maybe I’m just spoilt by the AMAZING job Adventure Time and Steven Universe do with this, but the land of Gravity Falls fails to be as interesting as Ooo or as realistic as Beach City. Idk, i think it’s more ENTERTAINING than Beach City but more because I get more laughs out of the show than recent SU. The issue with Gravity Falls’ civilians is that unless you’re a Pines, youre a straight up Cartoon Character. That rules your characterisation and your purpose for existence. This is fine and yes there are some memorable characters but they never have those hilarious moments of humanity, like the episode Root Beer Guy where the title character gets into conflict with his wife cos she thinks hes too involved with his actual realistic mystery novels, or the Graybles ep where Starchy ran away from the candy kingdom to get rid of a tracker in his tooth cos he knows  PB was spying on him, and he runs a little club conspiring against her like some kind of real life political group. His club and Kim Kil Whan having King of Ooo memorabilia lmao. I’m getting too into this but its moments like that which make Adventure Time feel great. 

As for GRAVITY FALLS ITSELF, yeah because the world doesn’t feel as real as it could be I never wanted to see what it had to offer next, and there’s never explanation for all of this. The journals play a much smaller role in the series than Dipper’s reactions over them would have you think. The closest thing to an explanation is the pondering over whether a spaceship caused the weirdness in GF or was drawn to the area because of this weirdness. But is it magic? Is it science? Is it different dimensions? Fuck knows! Is there any hint about the truth? I’m not sure! Yeah, not all things need to have answers, but it helps fire off the thinkpan. In Adventure Time the Land of Ooo’s weirdness is linked to an apocalypse that helped bring magic back to the land. The hint is that the magic potential was always there, because there were magical societies around millenia before humanity. Did magic disappear because of a comet hitting the planet? Is magic actually based on scientific principles? Like GF, not all these questions have direct answers, but unlike GF, you have enough incentive and evidence to construct your own theories. It lets you get absorbed in the lore of Ooo, of the characters inhibiting it. This is my own perspective anyway. 

I think the most amazing mysteries I ever saw unwravel were Simon and Marcy’s adventures, and more relevant to my own experiences, PB’s age. Like there was puzzle pieces and hints around indicating Peebles had been around way longer than 18 years or whatever but we finally got confirmation in Season 5.2 where we saw consecutive episodes showing her in the past. The theory was that she was younger than 1000, but could be any age older than about 50. The Vault was a shock origin story for not just Finn having had a past life as a girl without an arm (THE ARM BEING ANOTHER ADVENTURE TIME THING THAT EVENTUALLY GOT some really back and forth PAYOFF), it was an origin story for peebles and the candy kingdom! but why would she make it?? ? yeah this was all stuff we were able to construct theories for, and accurate theories, because the evidence was there and more significantly the Writers were putting it together at the same time. It almost felt like we were having an INPUT in the story because of this natural way it evolved over time. That’s why AT’s mysteries are far more engaging than those of Gravity Falls, at least for me.... but maybe the same thing happened to GF fans????? Because I wasn’t there to put the pieces together, to study the Pines family or the Bill Zodiac which.... was almost as much a copout as Finn’s arm but its ok cos the stan deleting his memories shit was a decent end anyway. I just dont know why theyd  put a mystery like that IN there if it was always going to be a red herring???

To conclude this description which..... ended up being another reason to talk about Adventure Time again, I want you to know that I REALLY enjoyed Gravity Falls. It reminded me of Over the Garden Wall in how it’s told, the characters it has, but much larger and grander than OtgW ever was. 

My favourite characters were Stan and Mabel. Yeah, Dipper and Ford were very interesting characters too, but while they’re among the top of their trope, they still feel like an overdone trope to me.... especially dipper and his Issues,,, Stan meanwhile I liked that he was a runaway fuckup nobody as a child who became a professional conman after his parents kicked him out. That was an interesting backstory.  

Gravity Falls, all in All, gets 3.5 out of 5 hats. To keep it real. Spend them wisely.

[impishnature]

Sneaking

Rating: G (This is just pure and utter fluff) Summary: Prompt from @isi7140 “Why are we whispering?” AN: Time to start getting these prompts up 8D I still really love the thought of this particular one with Stan and Ford as well. XD

A high pitch squeal tore through the early morning air.

"Oh my gosh- Dipper, what are they? What are they?!" Mabel shook her brother in the bush they were sat in, their Grunkle Ford stifling a laugh beside them at the sudden burst of energy. It truly was a tremendous feat, how Mabel went from sleepy and softly petulant at being woken so early, for what appeared to be no apparent reason, to abruptly awake, wide-eyed and exuberant within a second of seeing the creatures they had thought would interest her.

Dipper shushed her, hands flapping frantically as he pulled her back down into the bushes where she abruptly realised her mistake and slapped a hand over her mouth and went still.

Or, well, as still as she was capable of in the circumstances.

"Sorry, sorry, they're just so cute! What are they? How are they- Oh my gosh, look at them snuffle around, they're so cute, Dipper." She hissed, barely above a whisper as if her excitement just couldn't be contained vocally, though it soon turned into a gush of giddy happiness, her hands on her cheeks as she watched them with sparkly eyes. Her eyes darted to Ford as if expecting him to elaborate, though she only afforded him quick shuffling glances as if looking away from the small furry creatures for even a second was a travesty she just couldn't bring herself to do, her body visibly vibrating with pent up energy.

Ford raised a hand, pointing to Dipper quickly with a wry grin. "No, no. Don't look at me. It was actually Dipper that discovered them, so I'll let him explain, it's only fair after all."

All eyes went to the young boy, who puffed up proudly under the scrutiny and praise. "Well, I mean, we were following some tracks when we came across this place. Something about the place seemed suspicious to me so I wanted to scope it out before we continued following the tracks and I mean, I'm glad we did 'cause look what we found!" He ducked his head, slipping a hand over his own mouth as his excitement got the better of him, though he couldn't quite unsettle the grin glued to his face. "We've been researching them for a little while now, but we thought you'd like to see them before things went too far- and name them, of course." Dipper gestured outwards into the small grove before them, hands fidgetting and fluttering along with the words without any real thought, encompassing the small pig-like creatures snuffling through the brush ahead of them, each one waddling around happily or nudging into one another playfully, completely content in their small, safe haven. Even if they had just been ordinary, bog standard pigs, he knew Mabel would have been ecstatic to see them but he had hoped that the speckled furry cryptids before them that glowed softly in the early morning sun had just enough uniqueness to really make her gush excitedly.

Her response had not disappointed. He started to ramble about what they had noted watching them, his words fast and quiet, though he soon realised that most of the information, though interesting to him, really wasn't holding his sister's attention as her eyes flicked between him and the small creatures as if they were just far too distracting for her to really focus on anything he had to say. "Anyway the really important thing to remember is that they're really nervous little things. Any movement they catch sight of startles them and they have really good vision so that happens a lot. We've even watched them flinch at one another if they moved too fast when they weren't expecting it. I think it's a defense mechanism, one of them runs so the rest of the follow suit without much thought. They don't seem to be able to hear that great though, we watched one of them jump real high when a deer went past and we assume they just didn't hear it coming."

"Oh, so that's why we're hiding? They'll run away if they see us."

"Yup." Dipper nodded, noting the disappointed lilt to Mabel's voice. "We're trying to figure out how to coax them close to study them better- I thought you'd be the perfect person for that job."

Mabel blinked at him before beaming, her eyes alight with the thoughts of befriending one and how exactly to go about it. "Now, that sounds like something I can do- I have one more question though... If that's OK?"

"Shoot."

"So- I mean, if they can't hear us... then why are we whispering?"

Ford snorted, unable to hold in his mirth at the question that slipped from Mabel's lips, the thought having been lost to both him and Dipper as they got themselves lost in their research. Too excited, too caught up in the moment and trying to make sure the small creatures didn't slip away from them again to think about what they themselves were doing. Dipper's face said it all, slack-jawed and wide eyed, a look of dawning realisation brewing at the obvious oversight.

"I- oh, fair. Very fair. It just seemed like the right thing to do? Maybe?" Dipper's voice stuttered out, hesitant and slightly lost though Mabel nodded along with him seriously, smiling brightly and reassuringly as she took in his words. Ford wasn't sure she'd intended the look to be quite so comforting, only letting herself get taken in by the moment.

"Oh. That makes sense! I mean, it'd be weird to be super loud when we're being sneaky, right? OK, let's keep whispering then." Mabel shushed them both, rolling her eyes at Ford's poor attempts to stifle his laughter. "Shh, Grunkle Ford! We're sneaking!"

"Yes- Yes, sorry, I'll, uhh, I'll just take a few steps back until I can be quiet again I think. You two have fun."

"OK, don't worry, Grunkle Ford! We'll have these little Glowpigs befriended in no time, and then you won't have to be sneaky with us anymore. Come on, Dipper, let's do this."

"R-right, OK, yeah, we can do that- wait, did you call them Glowpigs?"

"You said I could name them, right?"

"Oh, yeah, guess I did."

"Then, Glowpigs it is!"

Ford bit his knuckle to stop the burst of laughter, that threatened to tear out of his throat, as he walked a fair distance away, Mabel's next whispered words trailing over to him from through the trees.

"Hey, Dipper? You think mum and dad would let me keep one along with Waddles?"

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Dr. Mystery

Another gift for @siro-cyll​ cuz I have unhealthy obsession with their work and just gotta write fanfiction for it. I also may or may not have an unhealthy desire for more Ford and Mabel bonding content. (By the way, to all of you who liked my last gift, Tiger Stripes, and especially to @siro-cyll​, THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart for all of your love and support! I’ve been close to tears so much lately due to your kindness. Just... thank you so much.) Oh! And, S.C., there’s a special little message for you told by your favorite six-fingered fluffy owl; everyone needs a little encouragement and I can’t think of anyone who deserves it more than you. - N.S.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ever since the Pines family had returned to Gravity Falls for the summer, Soos and Stan shared the role of Mr. Mystery. It was primarily Soos' responsibility so that Stan could sit in his boxers for as long as he wanted, but every so often - to give the old man something to do or so Soos could work on a project or a repair - it was like the good ole days with the original My. Mystery scamming tourists and a humble handyman making the shack stand strong.

Unfortunately, Soos caught a bad case of the summer flu, and so to try to keep two old men and two young teenagers from getting sick, he quarantined himself in his room and Stan had to fill in the My. Mystery role. It felt good to be back in his old ways for a bit, amazing gullible tourists with made-up attractions; he had been doing this for thirty years, he could do it for a week, right?

Wrong. When it was almost ten o'clock and the first tour was scheduled to happen at eleven, and Stan still wasn't up yet, Mabel decided to wake him up in the best way possible: by attacking him with hugs. She tip-toed in her socks and oversized t-shirt her dad gave her to her grunkle's bedroom and carefully opened the door to prepare her attack, but a nasty cough destroyed her devilish plan and she hurried to Stan's bed.

"Grunkle Stan? Are you okay?" Mabel asked. Stan tried to tell her that he was fine, but she felt his sweaty forehead and gasped, "You've got a fever! Hold on!"

Meanwhile, Ford was sipping his third cup of coffee in the kitchen and reading the newspaper since Stan wasn't awake yet to hog it. He saw Mabel running across the hallway and up the stairs out of the corner of his eye and chose to ignore it; his niece often got excited about little things. His concern only came when she ran past the kitchen again, this time fully dressed in a red skirt and a handmade white sweater with a red cross, a white headband over her hair.

"Mabel, sweetie, what's the matter?" Ford called; Mabel wearing her nurse's sweater was never a good sign. Unless she was playing doctor with Waddles.

She popped back into view, this time with medicine, a washcloth, and a first-aid kit in her arms. "Grunkle Stan is sick." She answered and went off to help.

Ford decided that Mabel needed a capable adult's supervision and he followed her to Stan's bedroom, only to find her responsibility giving Stan a thermometer to hold in his mouth and cooling him down with a damp washcloth; Mabel even put on her stethoscope and listened to her uncle's breathing and heartbeat to see how forced it was. Ford crossed his arms over his chest, leaned against the doorframe, and smiled proudly at his little pumpkin.

"You sound really congested." Mabel commented calmly. "Does anything hurt? How's your head and your tummy?"

"Stomach's fine for now, but my head's poundin'." Stan groaned quietly.

Mabel took the medicine bottle she had brought from the nightstand and read the directions carefully. "Okay, I think you should take this every six hours, only a cap full. Once it starts to relieve pressure and congestion your head should stop hurting."

"Good job, my dear." Ford complimented, recognizing the bottle of syrup and giving her his approval to give it to Stan.

Mabel's cheeks turned rosy and she filled the cap with the appropriate amount of medicine. Then an idea came to mind and she put the medicine back on the nightstand. "Oh! Hold on! I'll be right back." And she hurried past Grunkle Ford and out of the room.

Ford smiled sympathetically at his brother. "So you caught Soos' flu, huh?"

"I'd fire him if I could." Stan growled and ducked his head under the covers.

Ford chuckled at how little Stan had changed from when they were kids; as tough as he was, whenever he was ill he tended to curl up like a bunny and sleep off his virus.

Mabel came back with a glass of water and gently rubbed Stan's shoulder to coax him out from behind the blankets. "You can take your medicine now. You should take it with water so it doesn't taste as yucky."

How can anyone resist smiling at Mabel's kindness? Stan's lips curled upward as he propped himself up on his right elbow and accepted the cap of medicine, took it, and then gratefully had Mabel's glass of water, but he did so after she took the thermometer out of his mouth. "Thanks, pumpkin."

Mabel just smiled at her hero. "You've got a fever of 101.5. Definitely the flu. You should rest and I'll be back at lunchtime with some soup." She packed up her things and left her uncle to rest.

Ford was about to follow her out of the room, but Stan stopped him. "Hey, do me a favor, Sixer, and keep the shack open, okay?"

Ford stared at him. "Excuse me?"

"You know, run the tours. Make sure Wendy does her job. Squeeze every cent you can outta the tourists. The usual business stuff."

Ford put his polydactyl hands up in both surrender and defense. "N-No, Stanley, I can't do that. I'm a lot of things, but a businessman is not one of them."

"I ain't askin' you to own the Mystery Shack - which in a way you kinda already do - I'm just asking you to hold down the fort until Soos or I are back in the game." Stan groaned and closed his eyes, laying on his back, and he waved his hand in the air casually. "C'mon, you're an anomaly expert, right? Just tell 'em about some freaky safe weird thing and do it with some dramatic flare."

"But…"

"Grunkle Ford," Mabel whispered as she returned and held his hand. "C'mon, we gotta let him rest. You don't wanna get sick, do you?"

Ford let her walk him out of Stan's bedroom and she closed the door behind him, the scientist's stage-fright giving him tunnel vision. Just as the sweater-twins were at the bottom of the stairs, Dipper came down in his orange t-shirt and gray shorts, pinching at his stiff eyes.

"Dipper," Mabel called to get his attention. "About time, sleepy-head! Anyway, Grunkle Stan is sick, so we need to work extra super-duper hard to keep the shack open!"

Dipper, coming to his senses, said, "Great, do I need to be Mystery Jr. again?"

"Nope! You're gonna help manage the tours so Grunkle Ford can lead them!"

"You got it." Dipper pulled out a pencil and a notepad from his shorts and got to work. "I'll help Wendy with the ticket sales and I'll pull from Soos' spare attractions to fill up the shack today."

Ford shook his head to clear it. "Dipper, my boy, if you have done this of all before, perhaps you should…"

"Nah, ah, ah." Mabel said gently, shaking a finger. "Grunkle Stan asked you to run the shack, not Dippin'-Dots. Besides, it'll be good for you to try something new! Now go hurry and get dressed!" And she and her twin went into the kitchen to plan the day.

Ford sighed and went into his room; he supposed he could last one day, right?

In the back of his closest, hidden by the many colorful sweaters Mabel had made for him (she claimed that he was her favorite model), Ford had a spare suit to replace the one Stan had stolen from him after disappearing on the other side of the portal. He shed his red sweater and changed into the formal attire, unsure of what to do for a tie. Guessing Mabel knew where one of Stan's ties were, he put on his white button-up, gray vest, and slipped on his black coat while he looked for her.

Mabel emerged from the living room and stared at her uncle with shining eyes, then let out a very "fangirly" scream. "Grunkle Ford! You look amazing! Wow! You might just steal Stan's title as the silver fox in the family!" Mabel giggled at her joke while Ford's entire face turned beet-red. "Here, I made these for you." She held out a maroon fez and matching neck-tie, but the fez, rather than a crescent, had a golden six-fingered hand, and the tie had a golden six-fingered hand pin. "The best way to be Mr. Mystery is to be you."

Ford smiled affectionately and was starting to feel a little better about this whole thing. He got on one knee and accepted the gifts. "Thank you, Mabel. I think these will suit me just fine."

"No pun intended?" Mabel asked, making Ford laugh as he tied on his neck tie and let his pin show proudly. She helped by putting the fez on the top of his fluffy hair, running her little fingers through his charcoal-fluff. She pressed her lips and hands together and squealed again. "Eck! I gotta get my camera!"

"Mabel, no…" But she was gone.

Ford sighed and stood. He turned to look at the mirror and examine his appearance. He did look… nice? Maybe. Possibly. Mabel seemed to think so and she had exquisite taste. Ford decided to ignore the fact that her opinion was biased since they were family and he also decided that his little shooting star might be right.

"Grunkle Ford!" Mabel's voice ringed like cheerful bells, and when he looked her way he was blinded by a flash of light. Mabel got a polaroid of her fluffy, floofy, flustered old nerd whom she admired dearly. She grinned at the picture and claimed, "I never miss a scrapbook-ortunity! I'm gonna go add this to our family scrapbook! Dipper's ready for you in the gift shop!" And she skipped away to work on her arts-n'-crafts.

Ford took in a deep breath and reminded himself that it was only for one day as he walked towards the shop. Dipper had planned out a good schedule for the tours, bringing back nostalgic attractions as well as some new ones. First, the rock-that-looks-like-a-face had been brought inside to start off the tour; then a collection of rare and exotic (probably fake) pictures, like of bigfoot or of horses riding horses (Ford wasn't sure if that picture was PG); then the "ugliest creatures known to man" gag; then shells of a dinosaur egg (which Ford was pretty sure was legitimate and from Stan Jr.); and then finally the sack of mystery.

When Ford left to greet the arriving tourists at eleven o'clock, Wendy asked Dipper as she flipped through her magazine, "You have a backup-plan, right?"

"Oh, totally." Dipper said and replaced his pinetree-hat with an eyepatch.

Ford took in a deep breath and then gave his little audience a toothy grin (he was lucky that it was flu season and there weren't a lot of tourists today). He just had to be like the original Mr. Mystery. He could do that, right?

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, welcome to my humble Mystery Shack! I, Mr. Mystery, will gladly give you a tour so you may gaze at many abnormal wonders that plague my home." Ford gestured to the rock. "Behold! Rock That Looks Like a Face rock: the rock that looks like a face!" And he grinned nervously; his anxiety was starting to increase subtlety.

"Does it look like a rock?" An old lady asked, adjusting her glasses.

"Um… n-no." Ford's confidence was starting to fade. "It's a rock that looks like a face."

"Is it a face?" A chubby boy with a lollipop asked.

"N-No, it only looks like a face."

"But where did it come from?"

"Was it once a face?"

"Is that what we look like when we're dead?"

The questions kept on coming; this normally wouldn't have bothered Ford so much, he lived to seek out answers, but these were questions he could not answer nor could he investigate to find the answers; he was expected to know what to say on the spot; Stan could do that, but Ford could not. He swallowed as his skin paled.

"Ladies and gentlemen!"

The group turned to find a boy in a suit with an eyepatch and his hair combed back. They gasped and admired the adorable Mystery Jr., having heard of him from last summer, and the tourists hurried to him, leaving Ford free to breathe heavily and try to relax.

"Thank you, thank you all for coming!" Dipper started to lead the group to the next room. "You'll quickly notice the numerous attractions we keep here, but some weirdness we could only capture through pictures! Be amazed, at our Hall of Photos!"

Ford slipped away as cameras flashed and gullible tourists were entertained. He wiped his sweaty face with a handkerchief and he realized what happened; he got stage-fright, inconvenienced by the slightest change, choked, and his own nephew had to swoop in and save him. Ford was incredibly flustered and embarrassed and decided to get some water from the kitchen.

He found Mabel there, wearing an apron over her nurse's sweater, and she stood on a step-stool in front of the stove, mixing a big pot. She smiled sympathetically when she heard her uncle come in. "Hey, how did it go?"

"Horribly, my dear." Ford groaned and filled himself a glass of water from the sink. "I just couldn't do it. I know Stan asked me to do it, but I think it would be best if Dipper continued to handle the tourists. I would be happy to assist in some other way, but I'm no Mr. Mystery. I'm nothing like Stanley."

Mabel paused her work, tapping the wooden spoon on the side of the pot to shake off some broth, and she turned to look at him. "Grunkle Ford, that's not true. You're very much like Grunkle Stan; you're both sweet and handsome and strong and very brave."

Ford turned red and hid the bottom-half of his face in his cup. "Th-Thank you, Mabel." He stuttered.

"And it's okay that's you're not like him. More than okay." Mabel insisted as she moved to where chopped vegetables laid and she scooped some up into her hands. "We never wanted you to be. At least I never wanted you to be. You're supposed to be Dr. Mystery, not Mr. Mystery. Look, being weird and being different is awesome cuz it gives you a chance to be yourself. You have to give the tours your way. Get open, get honest with yourself, invent your own way of doing things, no matter what others think. Leave people confused by how awesome you are; that's what it's supposed to mean to be Mr. Mystery."

Ford's eyes were round and shining like stars as he stared at his niece, who plopped the veggies into the soup and stirred them in. "M-Mabel Pines, that… that was very wise and mature of you. When did you learn all of that?"

"Somewhere between fighting an unholy triangle and getting my braces taken off." Mabel joked, grinning to display her braces-less teeth. "Oh! Maybe my braces held back my wisdom and whatnot! We should sue my dentist for everything he's got!"

Ford laughed, feeling much better than he has felt all day.

Mabel tasted her homemade chicken soup and said, "Lunch is almost ready. Want some? I made plenty to share."

Ford smiled and nodded. "Thank you, my dear. I will be back in a moment to join you for lunch." And he left for his room again.

Mabel was right; Ford had been trying to hold a false image of himself, an image he didn't have because his twin had it, and really he just needed to be himself. Ford tossed the fez on his couch and saw the white lab coat on his desk-chair. He smiled and exchanged that for his suit-jacket. He smiled, much more comfortable in his trenchcoat-like attire with his gray vest and white button-up, and he adjusted the pin Mabel had given him; he would always treasure that tiny six-fingered hand. Ford went back into the kitchen just as his niece was leaving with a tray holding a bowl of soup and a glass of orange juice and she grinned and nodded in approval.

After a pleasant lunch with Mabel, another tour was scheduled. Dipper offered to take this one, but Ford claimed he had it under control and he knew just what to do this time.

"Now, many of you may have had a friend owe you money or have won poker and someone couldn't pay you right away," Dr. Mystery said eerily, his back to the audience. "But have you ever had The Mothman owe you money?!" And he spun around, his fluffy hair a little extra floofy due to the sudden movement, and he gestured to an inky drawing of the odd creature.

The tourists gasped and clapped and took pictures. "What happened?" A little girl asked with a lisp, reminding the doctor of someone very dear to him, and he cleared his throat.

"I'm glad you asked that, my dear. It all began thirty-two years ago in a strange place long-forgotten…" And he began his storytelling, entrancing his audience and enjoying their captivated attention.

The rest of the day the fluffy, nerdy owl did an amazing job entertaining the tourists with his stories and evidence to back it up, and he even brought in some of his "mad scientist" experiments and had some kids help him mix colorful liquids in beakers so they made bright, harmless, explosions. The tourists were also delighted by their tourguide's extra fingers; never before had Ford been surrounded by so many people who were delighted and happy to see his birth defect, asking questions he could confidently answer and showing how well he could do shadow puppets. Dr. Mystery was a huge hit, and when Mabel watched him smiling and laughing at the last tour of the day she was reminded of that Bob Dry the Science Guy, those videos her science class sometimes put on and it would make the whole class freak out.

As the tourists walked away with boxes full of merchandise from the shop, babbling about what a great time they had, Dr. Mystery waved them away, wiggling his six fingers, and he called, "Remember, we put the 'fun' in 'no refunds'!"

Mabel snuck up behind him and hugged him. Ford jumped, but turned to hug her back. "That was great, Grunkle Ford! I'm really proud of you!"

"Thank you so much, Mabel." Ford got on one knee to be eye-level with her. "You really inspired me to be the best me I can be, and I have no one to thank but you. You truly have a gift."

Mabel's cheeks were rosy again; she hugged Ford around his neck and he hugged her in return, rubbing her back and combing her beautiful long brown hair. She snuck a kiss on his cheek before skipping away to check on Stan. Ford's eyes were misty as his fingertips gently grazed the spot on his face where Mabel had kissed him; He then grinned and left the gift shop, confident that Dr. Mystery would be available tomorrow.