#people keep saying that “dipper sacrificed so much for mabel”

[illumynare]

How the Enneagram explains all of Ford and Stan’s problems

….well, most of them, anyway.

So in my ongoing quest to learn all personality typing systems ever, I’ve recently started reading about the Enneagram, and it struck me that Ford and Stan both fit extremely neatly into the system, and it provides a great framework for analyzing why these two idiots can love each other so much and yet continually hurt/trigger/drive each other crazy.

(descriptions taken from the Enneagram Institute website, not linked because apparently that means this post won’t show up in the tags??)

Stan: Type 2, “The Helper”

The Caring, Interpersonal Type: Generous, Demonstrative, People-Pleasing, and Possessive

Twos are empathetic, sincere, and warm-hearted. They are friendly, generous, and self-sacrificing, but can also be sentimental, flattering, and people-pleasing. They are well-meaning and driven to be close to others, but can slip into doing things for others in order to be needed. They typically have problems with possessiveness and with acknowledging their own needs. At their Best: unselfish and altruistic, they have unconditional love for others.

Basic Fear: Of being unwanted, unworthy of being loved Basic Desire: To feel loved

This is Stan in a nutshell: somebody who loves deeply and unconditionally, sacrifices himself without a second thought, but also easily becomes possessive, and whose “helper” actions are often in some way an attempt to earn people’s love. He rescues Waddles from the pterodactyl so that Mabel will stop being mad at him, and he rescues Ford from the portal hoping that will restore the relationship they had as children. It’s not that Stan doesn’t genuinely care about Mabel or Ford’s suffering, it’s just that, on some level, he’s always trying to earn the love of the people he cares about.

Ford: Type 4, “The Individualist”

The Sensitive, Introspective Type: Expressive, Dramatic, Self-Absorbed, and Temperamental

Fours are self-aware, sensitive, and reserved. They are emotionally honest, creative, and personal, but can also be moody and self-conscious. Withholding themselves from others due to feeling vulnerable and defective, they can also feel disdainful and exempt from ordinary ways of living. They typically have problems with melancholy, self-indulgence, and self-pity. At their Best: inspired and highly creative, they are able to renew themselves and transform their experiences.

Basic Fear: That they have no identity or personal significance Basic Desire: To find themselves and their significance (to create an identity)

Feeling vulnerable and defective, yet disdainful and exempt from ordinary ways of living: if you looked up “Stanford Filbrick Pines” in the dictionary, that’s the first thing you’d see. People have argued a lot about whether Ford is arrogant and how much, but I don’t think that’s actually the most helpful way to analyze his character. Ford has, at different times, considered himself a genius, a fool, a hero, a puppet; but what never changes is that he’s obsessed with the question of his own identity, and driven by the fear he’s either a freak or a non-entity. Even at the end of Journal 3, when he finally starts to chillax, he doesn’t abandon the question of his identity and say, “Who cares if I’m a hero or not.” Instead he chooses a new identity: “I’m a hero’s brother, and I’m okay with that.”

So how does this explain their problems?

Because, as much as these two dumb idiots love each other, they have primal fears that are often at cross-purposes, and that make them hypersensitive to each other’s worst tendencies. Stan fears being unloved and alone, and at his most desperate he is willing to do anything—including literally immolate his identity—to keep his loved ones around him, or bring them back. Ford fears having no separate identity or personal significance, and at his most desperate he is willing to do anything—including cut his twin out of his life, and summon unknown spirits of insane power—to grasp that identity.

This is why I think that, even if the whole science fair debacle had never happened, they would have still had some kind of major rift. They both grew up bullied by other children, emotionally abused by their father, and without any kind of support network or healthy relationship models; I don’t think either of them had the resources, at that point, to deal with their issues in a healthy way. Stan would have tried to cling to Ford no matter what, without realizing Ford experienced it as suffocation; Ford would have tried to strike out on his own no matter what, without realizing that Stan experienced it as complete rejection.

And this dynamic is also what drives their conflict after Ford comes back through the portal. I’m thinking, particularly, of their scene at the end of “Tale of Two Stans”:

Ford: Okay, Stanley, here’s the deal. You can stay here the rest of the summer to watch the kids. I’ll stay down in the basement and try to contain any remaining damage. But when the summer’s over, you give me my house back, you give me my name back, and this Mystery Shack junk is over forever. You got it?

Stan: You really aren’t gonna thank me, are you? Fine. On one condition: you stay away from the kids; I don’t want them in danger. Cause as far as I’m concerned, they’re the only family I have left.

A lot of people have interpreted this scene as Ford planning to kick Stan out of his life and onto the streets (and written angsty fanfics accordingly). This may indeed be how Stan saw it, but I don’t think that’s a fully accurate perception. A moment before this, they’re laughing about being old men. Ford’s voice in delivering his ultimatum doesn’t read as angry or cold so much as somebody trying to put his foot down.

I think the key to Ford’s speech is the implicit link between “you can stay here the rest of the summer” and “I’ll stay down in the basement.” Ford is primarily thinking about the issue of his stolen identity: there can only be one Stanford Pines, so while he’s willing hide himself away and let Stan keep playing the role for the rest of the summer, he wants to be Stanford Pines again. He wants his own identity, and to have a say in what goes on in his house. Which is completely reasonable!

But of course, Stan is approaching this conversation from a completely different direction. He’s spent thirty years trying to save Ford, not just because of his own guilt but also because he wants their relationship back: think of how he throws his arms wide and shouts “Brother!” when Ford steps through the portal. From Stan’s point of view, Ford is saying that everything Stan suffered and accomplished is still not enough to earn his love. Which is why Stan lashes out, having finally reached the limits of his willingness to martyr himself. Objectively, it’s kind of terrible to disown your brother for not saying “thank you,” but in context it completely makes sense for Stan to react this way. (And honestly, it’s really good that he has managed to discover ONE boundary, even if he’s being petty about it.)

….but of course, Ford still doesn’t understand what’s going on in his brother’s head, so he interprets Stan’s anger as something along the lines of “how dare you want to make decisions, you should just live in my basement for the rest your life to make me happy.” Which in turn drives his hostility and posturing in later episodes (like the DD&MD game—yes, Ford was swept away by enthusiasm, but I think he was also very much trying to mark his territory when he covered the TV room in graphs.) And that just escalates Stan’s hurt and anger, creating his determination Not To Care even when the world is ending and Ford is a prisoner, and culminating in the Zodiac Fight which is hands-down the pettiest thing either of them has ever done.

What saves them is Dipper and Mabel, who remind them it’s possible for two radically different siblings to work together—and who give them something to care about outside their own tumultuous dyad. Threatened by the loss of Dipper and Mabel, they find they can still trust and understand each other well enough to pull off a desperate, last-minute con. In one way, their final gambit seems to echo their earlier patterns: Stan burns up his identity to save his family, Ford grimly makes a choice that will cut him off from his brother. But there’s an important difference: Stan doesn’t expect to get anything back from this, not admiration from the kids or love from his brother, because he doesn’t expect to be himself after. He burns the dream of the Stan-o-War along with all the rest of his memories. Ford, on the other hand, gives up all claim to being the hero, The Man Who Killed Bill Cipher; more than that, he trusts Stan to carry out that role for him.

And that’s how, after everything, they’re able to reconcile and be at peace with each other.

[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.

[invisibletinkerer]

Fic: In Our Bedroom After the War

When Weirdmageddon fades, Stanley isn’t the only one who emerges broken.

Size: ~6500 words.

AO3: archiveofourown.org/works/18856615

The world was back.

The forest was back. The singing birds, the summer breeze, the sunlight trickling through the canopy of leaves. The sky was a brilliant blue, as if it had never cracked open and spewed nightmares over the valley of Gravity Falls.

The demon was dead.

Stanford Pines was trembling.

By all rights, this should have been a triumph. The threat to all reality posed by the demon – enabled by Stanford himself so many years ago – was gone. Ended at the very moment when all seemed lost. No, when all would have been lost, if it hadn’t been for—

If his brother hadn’t—

Ford clenched the hands that had held the gun, unable to completely stop the shivers, but at least rendering them less noticeable. The children would be looking to him for guidance. It wouldn’t do to break down now, when it was all over.

In fact, he realized with a deep shudder, he was safe. He was bathed in the sunlight of a morning that would never have come, wearing an ill-fitting suit, toes crammed into too small shoes, and for the first time in over three decades there was no demon breathing down his neck. It should have been a triumph, and yet he felt numb.

“Grunkle Sta—Grunkle Ford!” Mabel’s voice from somewhere behind him startled him more than it should have. “You did it! Everything is back to normal! I don’t even understand what happened but you saved us!”

“Mabel, wait!” Dipper’s warning came a little too late, as his sister had already thrown her arms around Ford’s waist, squeezing him painfully. Ford’s fists clenched harder at his sides, but it was just Mabel. She wasn’t going to break his bones or—He wasn’t thinking about that.

“Mabel,” he said instead, as calmly as possible, maneuvering himself and her around to face each other. She was wearing Stanley’s red fez. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken.”

She tensed. “What do you mean? Bill is gone, isn’t he?”

Ford nodded. “Bill is gone, and he’s not coming back. But I’m not the one who saved us.” All he had done was to pull the trigger on his own brother, the brother he’s kept underestimating and writing off until the moment it was too late to make amends. He took a deep breath. “Stanley did.”

“Is he okay?” Dipper had stopped a bit off to the side, arms folded like he was hugging himself, and glancing around as if trying to locate Stanley. “The memory gun – I mean – you erased Bill, didn’t you? Is Grunkle Stan okay?”

Ford sighed and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “No.” There was no point trying to hide the truth from the children, not after everything they’d been through. “The only way to be sure to erase Bill was to wipe Stan’s entire mind. He—” Ford’s voice broke, and he had to swallow to compose himself. “He sacrificed himself for us.”

Mabel stared at him, wide-eyed, but Dipper eyes narrowed, like an accusation. It was well deserved.

“It should have been me.” That was no defense. It should have been Ford, but it wasn’t. He’d been willing to—he’d wanted to die defeating Bill for so many years, but when the moment came his own desperate means of protection against the demon’s mental intrusions was exactly what had rendered him incapable of the deed.

There had been a moment when he’d lost all hope. When the choice had seemed to be between surrendering the world to Bill’s chaotic destruction and watching the children he’d come to know and love suffer and die in Bill’s hands. He knew what Bill was capable of. The thought of Bill turning his energies on the intelligent, curious boy or the bright, creative girl before him made him want to scream again, even knowing that they were safe now.

Ford had been ready to give in, and afterwards no one would have ever been safe.

“Stanley took my place because the memory gun wouldn’t have worked on me,” he explained, keeping his voice steady. “I have a metal plate installed in my head that makes me immune.” Dipper already knew this, but Mabel deserved to understand, too. She was still staring blankly at him.

Dipper took a few steps closer and put his arms around his sister, unclear whether to comfort her or himself. “Are you saying he’s—he’s dead?”

Ford licked his lips. “He should be physically fine. But the man he was – everything he knew and cared about – it’s gone. He’s gone. I’m sorry, but you need to be ready for that.”

Mabel finally blinked. “No,” she said.

“What?”

“No, he’s not gone. I’m not gonna accept that and neither will he!”

“Mabel, that’s not how it—”

“La-la-la, I can’t hear you!” Mabel papped her hands over her ears, then smiled brightly. “You’ll see, Grunkle Ford! He’ll be fine! He’s a hero! Come on, Dipper, let’s go find him!” She grabbed her brother’s hand and dragged him off in a random direction, not waiting for Ford to follow.

Ford pushed down a spell of dizziness. His heart was beating too fast, his vision swaying as he followed the children at a slower pace. They did have to find Stanley. They had to take care of him somehow. But Mabel was wrong – she was a child. She didn’t understand that sometimes the hero is the one who is not left standing in the end.

It was expected, but still agonizing to see the light die in Mabel’s eyes when they reached him. He was sitting in the grass in a small clearing, his face dazed and empty, looking at the restored world with no indication of understanding it. The contrast was profound between this shell of a man and the focused, determined, clever brother who had convinced Ford to switch clothes and pull a final desperate con in the few minutes of time the children’s actions had bought them. The brother who had wordlessly squeezed Ford’s six-fingered hand and looked at him like he wished he could pour a lifetime’s worth of missed companionship into a single gaze.

“I’m sorry,” Ford mouthed even as Mabel ran up to the shell, putting the fez back on his head, hugging him and thanking him for saving them all. The man that used to be Stanley blinked and managed to talk, but all that came out was confused politeness.

She was openly weeping, begging for her Grunkle to recognize her, when Ford and Dipper dragged her away.

“He doesn’t remember,” Ford said softly. Subtle tremors ran through him again, but he made himself look at Stanley’s blank expression. “He saved the world today, and he doesn’t even know.”

A few steps forward, and Ford was close enough to touch him. The eyes that looked up at him were open, innocent, confused but accepting. “He saved us. He saved me.” He wasn’t sure who he was talking to anymore, but he felt the full weight of his own words like a sledgehammer to the chest, ripping his heart out. It wasn’t just the world – he was saved. Stanley had saved him. And it was too late to thank him for it.

Ford’s legs folded beneath him, and before he knew it he pulled Stanley’s empty shell into a tight embrace. “You’re our hero, Stanley.” His voice broke into a sob, and then the tears came.

Stanford knew all too well that men shouldn’t cry, and he didn’t mean to, not now, not in front of the upset children. Perhaps it was fatigue that did it. The events of the past however-long-it-had-been in the pseudo-time of Weirdmageddon was an agonizing blur, but he was free, and alive, and safe – it was all over, all thanks to Stanley, but Stanley didn’t even know it.

Stanley didn’t move, didn’t hug him back, just sat there awkwardly. Enduring the embrace, but not reciprocating. It was too late. Stanley wasn’t there. Stanley was gone, and it had been Ford’s hand on the trigger. Ford’s own foolishness that had led them to that moment. If he’d talked to Stanley just once – trusted him like he deserved to be trusted—

Emotions that he’d kept bottled up for decades threatened to drown him. It hurt, though he doubted much of the pain was physical at this point. He was a fool. He’d known he was a fool ever since Bill’s betrayal became clear, but this was different. He’d missed Stanley. He’d missed him for all those years, but hanging on to the anger made the loss easier to bear, until he hadn’t even made an attempt to reconnect when he’d had the chance. He’d ignored Stanley, dismissed him, taken him for granted. He’d understood nothing, and now it was too late – now he never would.

Ford didn’t cry for long. He had to pull himself together. With a shaking breath and a quick wipe of his eyes with a hand, he let the man who should have been his brother go, unable to look at his face. “I’m sorry,” he said, both to the Stanley that had been and the remains of Stanley that was.

“It’s fine,” Stanley said. “I suppose.” He hesitated, as if too confused to know what questions to ask, instead opting to ask nothing.

“Mr Pines!” a new voice exclaimed, interrupting the sudden silence. Stan’s handyman – Soos? – landed on the ground next to the brothers and started shaking Stanley’s shoulders. “Is it true? Like you not being you anymore and you can’t remember my name? Please tell me you remember my name, dude!” There were tears in his eyes, too. Apparently, Stanley had been dearly beloved by more than his immediate family.

Stanley’s face frowned slightly, as if trying to remember the correct emotions to respond to people wanting something from him that he couldn’t give. “I’m sorry, sir,” he said, which was clearly the wrong thing to say. Soos bawled.

Ford forced himself back to his feet, leaning against a tree. He was going to have to take charge of this somehow, but he didn’t know what to do. He was the most competent adult person in the vicinity, and yet he had no idea how to proceed. Was his house—was the Mystery Shack still standing? Maybe not – the barrier spell around the house would have negated the effects of Weirdmageddon’s reversal, too. But the town might be alright. The children would need some food and a place to rest, surely. They’d need to get back to their parents as soon as possible. California, was it? Did anyone have a car that was still running?

And Stanley. Would need someone to help him for a while. Perhaps for the rest of his life. It was the least Ford could do.

It hurt to move, but Ford pulled himself upright and cleared his throat, steeling himself to get things done.

“Grunkle Ford?” Mabel interrupted him. She had wiped her eyes about as well as Ford himself had, now standing with her arms crossed and her hands hidden in the sleeves of her sweater. “We’re going to fix this.”

Ford slowly shook his head. “Mabel. I know that you—”

“We’re going to fix this!” Mabel repeated, loud and confident enough that everyone in the clearing looked up. “Grunkle Stan, you’re gonna be okay!” She pointed energetically at the confused man with the crooked fez, then at Ford. “Grunkle Ford, you swap your clothes back with him! He’ll feel more like himself in his own clothes! And then we’re going back to the Mystery Shack. It’s your home, Grunkle Stan – there has to be something there that can make you remember!”

Her tone was far too authoritative for a barely thirteen-year-old human, reminding Ford of that one nation of hunnerbaphs where the adolescents were the undisputed leaders – perhaps there was something to that idea after all – but he listened up. He knew for a fact that her plans wouldn’t help Stanley, but going back to the Shack was fine. He couldn’t bring himself to contradict her.

Stanley stumbled to his feet with Soos’ assistance, then tilted his head at Ford. “Do we change clothes?” he asked, too softly.

 * * *

 Against all odds or reason, it worked.

Mabel’s desperate hope, her refusal to accept tragedy, shone so brightly that Ford was tempted to believe she was rewriting the very laws of reality. When the amnesiac’s soft tone changed – just for a moment – into Stanley’s grumpy affection, Ford thought his heart was actually about to stop. The hard knots in his soul that had kept him going suddenly loosened, and he found himself gripping the back of Stanley’s chair, willing his knees not to buckle until he was breathing normally again. His chest ached and his fingertips tingled painfully, but he was witnessing a miracle.

Stanley wasn’t completely gone. There was still something of his brother there, something that could be saved. Tears threatened to well up in his eyes again, but not from despair this time.

He still didn’t speak while Illustrated tales of a summer’s worth of shenanigans poured forth from the children and the handyman. He knew nothing about these tales, stories about a Stanley he’d never bothered to get to know, but he listened, smiling incredulously. Stanley’s polite confusion turned into eager activity, and each scrap of memory he dragged up was celebrated and cheered by the family.

Stanley wasn’t a blank slate, like Ford had assumed. He was like a sheet of pencil scribblings that had been imperfectly rubbed out by an eraser, many of the writings recoverable with some effort.

Stanley was still there.

That didn’t mean anything about Bill.

There was no guarantee Stanley would be able to remember Ford. Or if he did, that he’d ever be able to forgive him. Maybe he shouldn’t. But Ford hadn’t erased him, hadn’t killed him utterly, and Stanley was going to be alright. That much, Ford allowed himself to hope.

The room seemed to be spinning around him. The pictures in Mabel’s scrapbook was drifting in and out of focus, and the children’s words – something about petting zoos and mutant cows – seemed to be coming to him through water. It occurred to him that if he hadn’t been leaning heavily against the back of the chair, he might have already fallen over.

Vaguely, he supposed he should have anticipated this. Adrenalin will only take you so far. His whole body ached, and he didn’t want to acknowledge why, but if Stanley was going to be alright, maybe it would be acceptable for Ford to rest. He wondered briefly how long it had been since he slept, then shied away from the thought. It was over. Bill was gone.

Ford forced a deep breath and made a decision. Collapsing here and now would be irresponsible. The children were helping Stanley recover parts of himself – who knew what damage it would do to interrupt that? He needed to get himself out of the way before he became a distraction.

He gave Stanley’s shoulder a pat that he hoped was reassuring. “Keep going,” he said. “I’ll be back.” Somehow he managed to keep his voice steady.

“Where are you going?” Mabel looked up from the scrapbook and looked at him with a hint of worry in her eyes.

“Are you okay?” Dipper added.

“Yes, I—” Ford made a vague gesture with a hand he hoped wasn’t shaking visibly. “There’s something I need to do.” Lie down, preferably. “I’ll be back.”

“Wait,” Stanley said, head tilted in that heart-breakingly confused manner. “You haven’t told me who you are yet. You some kinda relative?”

Something cold clenched in Ford’s stomach. He wanted to answer the question. He wanted to let Stanley know that he’d missed him. But no words came to him, and his legs wouldn’t hold him for much longer. “Later, Stanley,” he managed. “I promise.”

 * * *

 Ford made it to the old study, closing the carved door behind him. Only then, out of his family’s view, did he allow himself to crumble on the couch. Letting himself settle against the cushions was a relief, body limp other than a few slight, irregular twitches. Unconsciousness beckoned temptingly.

When he closed his eyes, the room around him shifted into red and black and gleaming yellow. He was still there, filled with helpless dread and single-minded determination, anticipating excruciating pain that would—

No.

He drew a sharp breath and tore his eyes open. The wooden ceiling was cracked, but familiar.

It was over.

Bill was dead.

Wasn’t he?

His racing heart refused to acknowledge reason. The recent past played on the inside of his eyelids, beneath his skin.

“Your choice, Sixer! I could find out how to out of this pesky barrier, or I could find out how long it takes for all of your clothes to burn off your body!”

Breathing exercises. In. Then out.

For a moment he almost regretted removing himself from the grounding presence of other people. But no, he would only be impeding Stanley’s recovery, and he was fine. Even if he wasn’t, the mere idea of getting back to his feet and walking seemed currently impossible. He assumed he could do it if his life depended on it, but it didn’t.

“You know how many bones are in a six-fingered hand? There’s twenty-three, if you don’t count the wrist! I’m gonna see if I can snap all of them without tearing anything off!”

Slowly, with great effort, Ford pushed himself up to sit on the couch. He leaned forward and studied his own hands. Twelve fingers. White palms. Smooth. No callouses. No burns. He flexed one finger at a time, confirming that they worked. Stiff and somewhat tingling, but they all moved fine. No broken bones.

“What’dya think? Should we do that again, from the beginning? Or do you wanna let me into your head already?”

He’d been incredibly lucky, all things considered. If the kids and Stanley had arrived at the wrong time – maybe just an hour earlier – they would have found a bloody, broken wreck he wouldn’t have been able to stand, much less draw a circle. One hand half-consciously touched a kneecap, whole and in place. The fact that Bill had healed him in order to inflict more pain didn’t change that fact that Bill had healed him. He was fine.

“Remember that time is dead, Fordsy. We could do this for all of eternity! And I mean, as long as I’m stuck in this tiny bubble, it’s not like I have anything better to do!”

Drawing a shuddering breath and putting his glasses away on the drawer, Ford rubbed his eyes. He briefly considered getting a pot of coffee, but that would also involve moving, and he didn’t seem to have any reserves left.

Breathing. In, then out.

Eventually he clutched a pillow in his lap, curling up with his arms around it, his side against the backrest. Bill hadn’t even allowed him the comfort folding up on himself. He’d been kept in suspended gravity, defenseless, exposed, limbs held out by chains. Making himself smaller should prove, even to his exhausted mind, that he was no longer there.

It was over. Stanley had saved him in the end, whether he deserved to be saved it or not.

Stanley had sacrificed himself. But he would be alright. The children were bringing him back.

In, and out.

There were still yellow shapes moving behind his eyelids when he closed his eyes, but Bill was dead. Ford clenched his fists and pressed the pillow against his chest. For once, he was in no danger whatsoever.

 * * *

 Bill was laughing. Ford tried to scream, but he had no voice. He stared at the blackened remains of his hands, but no, they were fine, all fingers accounted for. Stanley was staring at him from below with blank, empty eyes. Ford tried to reach him, but his knees were bent the wrong way, blood pooling through his pants, and he couldn’t even breathe. Bill towered over him, and in his hand was Mabel and Dipper, faces twisted in terror, and Ford had to do something, but Bill snapped his fingers. The world exploded into brilliant lighting, searing him from the inside, and finally a sound emerged from Ford’s mouth—

—but it was more a strangled croak than a scream, a pathetic sound that startled him awake. He panted, still feeling sparks ripping through him, the burns on his wrists throbbing with every heartbeat.

Nightmares. A counterproductive but natural attempt by the human mind to deal with stress.

Bill was dead.

He let his head fall forward into the pillow in his lap with a quiet groan. His face was damp with sweat. Other than the hot burns on his wrists, his skin felt numb and stiff, but something on the inside stabbed at him when he shifted. Damage from the tail end of the torture. It’d heal. It seemed petty to worry about a mere couple of high-voltage shocks, when by rights he would have been crippled and broken for life.

“Whoa,” a gravelly voice said, too close. Ford flinched, scrambling for a weapon that wasn’t there. A moment later he froze, recognizing the shape of the man standing in the doorway.

“Stanley?”

Stanley – or to what degree was it Stanley? To what degree was it an amnesiac stranger with Stanley’s face? – was looking at Ford with an expression that could only be described as ‘sheepish’. “Yeah,” he said. “Well, I kinda prefer ‘Stan’.” He scratched the back of his head. “Although ‘Mr Mystery’ seems appropriate at this point.”

Ford drew a deep breath. “Yes, of course. Stan.” He straightened his back, put his glasses back on his face and fidgeted with his fingers on the pillow, hesitating. How long had he slept? How much of Stanley had Mabel managed to drag back, and how much of him was still an empty void? He seemed hesitant, but no longer empty, not like he had been. Ford had wanted nothing more than to talk to his brother, but now – still trying to hold back shudders, facing a man that was part Stanley, part no one, he didn’t know what to say. Where would he start? Did he apologize? Did he try to explain? Did he acknowledge nothing until he knew exactly how much Stanley remembered?

“How do you feel?” he managed.

Stanley shrugged with affected nonchalance. “Pretty good, considering. Also, I’m not the one who practically woke up screaming from a midday nap a moment ago.”

Ford tensed. He would have preferred it if Stanley hadn’t seen that. “Just a nightmare.”

“Mh-hm.”

This was awkward. “Where are the kids?”

“Looking for something edible. Told them I’d go check on you.” He grimaced slightly, eyes flicking to the side. “Look, I—”

Ford steeled himself. “You don’t remember me at all, do you?” Expected. Painful, like yet another knife in his guts, but expected.

Stanley looked down at his shoes. “No. Tell ya the truth, I mostly remember the kids, and a bit of my job. You could be the man in the moon for all I know.”

Ford could only nod. The children could only do so much, only inspire Stanley to remember them, but if he remembered his business, he’d most likely be able to resume his life. His brother may still be lost to Ford, but maybe that was for the better. He pulled a hand through his hair, trying to think of words to say, but all of them stuck in his throat. He was no Mabel. How hard would it be to just tell Stanley he was his twin, that he wanted to help, that he didn’t want to lose him again? Evidently, very hard. He couldn’t assume Stanley would be able to remember him. He couldn’t even assume he’d want to.

Stanley continued. “They said you’re my brother.”

“That’s right,” Ford said. That much, at least, was a biological fact, and it was something that could be easily shown if Stanley wasn’t clear on the matter. He abruptly put the pillow aside and stood up, ignoring the way the movement made something sharper than pins and needles tear into him. “Come here.” The large mirror was still covered by a sheet, so he pulled it off and gestured for Stan to join him. “See for yourself.”

It was just as uncomfortable than the last time they’d been standing together in front of a mirror, but for entirely different reasons. Stanley didn’t look much like their father after all. He was too soft, too casual, too much emotion in his eyes even now. It was Ford that looked like Filbrick, ramrod straight and clench-jawed. The realization stung, but he wished he could have seen it sooner.

Stanley put a hand on his chin, studying their faces. “We’re twins, aren’t we?” he concluded. “Like the kids.”

Ford nodded, trying not to be too disappointed that the sight of their faces next to each other hadn’t made Stanley remember anything. Of course it wouldn’t. If it was even possible, it would take more, and could Ford even justify dragging up decades-old wounds just because he wanted his brother back?

“Huh.” Stanley paused. “Is that why we’d swapped clothes before? I was wearing your clothes and pretending to be you for some reason?”

“Yes.” Deduction, not recollection. At least it seemed like Stanley’s cognitive functions hadn’t been damaged, and he should be grateful of that. With a sigh, Ford sat back on the couch, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. “I take it that didn’t stir any memories.”

“Sorry,” Stanley said, as if that was something he should apologize for. Sitting down next to Ford on the couch, he folded a leg beneath him and half-turned in Ford’s direction.

“Don’t be,” Ford said, leaning against the backrest and looking at the ceiling, not at his brother. “It’s frankly a miracle that you can remember anything at all. There’s no reason for you to—"

“Hey,” Stanley interrupted. “Your hands.”

Ford winced. He could take other people mocking his hands. He’d been a freak since birth, he knew that as well as—as Bill did. But Stanley had been the one person who’d never—

But he didn’t mock them. Instead, Stanley gently braided the fingers of his left hand in the spaces between the fingers on Ford’s right, holding up their clasped hands. “Sixer,” he said quietly, almost reverently.

Ford’s breath caught in his lungs. “You remember?”

“We used to do this when we were small.” Stanley said, staring at their hands with wide eyes. “I used to think my hands fitted much better with yours than with people with five fingers.”

Ford’s shoulders started to tremble. Blinking away tears, he stared at their joined hands, too. “Yes. Yes – you did say that.” His hands, of all the things to remember. Not the fights or the dismissals, not working for thirty years and being punched for the trouble. No, just the fact that their hands fitted well together when they were children.

Like a snapshot in Mabel’s scrapbook. He wasn’t going to cry.

Stanley smiled wistfully. “Oh, good. I do have a past after all.”

Ford wiped his eyes with his free hand, refusing to acknowledge the tears. Voiceless, he nodded.

“I want to say your name is Stanford,” Stan continued, eyes unfocused like he was trying to see through the fog in his mind. “It’s weird, but I also want to say my name is Stanford. But that can’t be right. I mean, you called me Stanley just now.”

Ford made an undefinable sound, neither a sob nor a chuckle, clenching his hand tighter around Stanley’s. He really should have seen that one coming. “You’re right, I’m Stanford. Your name is Stanley. Our father was uncreative, but not that uncreative.”

Stanley leaned back a bit and huffed. “That, I want to believe.” He grimaced. “I prefer ‘Stan’ anyway. And you go by ‘Ford’, right? That’s what the kids used.”

Ford nodded, silently glad that Stanley didn’t decide to pursue the topic further. He knew that the years of using Stanford’s name would have to come out into the open at some point, but not right now. “I prefer ‘Ford’, yes.”

“Alright, so I remember your excellent hands, that’s something.” Stanley said, as if trying to summarize to himself, disentangling his hand from Ford’s. Ford’s hand fell into his lap, strangely empty. “I kinda want to ask if we’ve got any old childhood photo albums or something—”

Ford perked at that. “We might, in fact, have that!” The idea was so obvious he hadn’t even thought of it – their childhood together in New Jersey. The good times. He knew their mother had sent him a box of old memorabilia, including school yearbooks and childhood photo albums, back when he first moved to Gravity Falls, and Stanley surely wouldn’t have thrown such things away, so it was only a matter of finding them.

“—but there’s something else I need to ask you about first.”

“And what would that be?” Ford bit his lip, bracing himself for anything Stanley might have remembered without context.

Stanley leaned forward, away from Ford, supporting his arms on his thighs and looking down at his own knees. “I didn’t want to ask the kids. Maybe I shouldn’t ask you either, but—” He sighed. “Look, I’m amnesiac, not dumb. I didn’t lose my memories by some random fluke. Something went down here. The kids are battered – Dipper has a bump the size of my thumb on his head! The Shack is thrashed. I’m bruised, too. As for you, you look dead on your feet and have nightmares in the middle of the day.”

“I’m not—”

“And unless I was hallucinating while I was still trying to remember how to wear a dress shirt, you’ve got some weird-looking burns under than sweater.”

Ford sighed and leaned forward too, mirroring his brother’s pose without looking at him.

“I just wanna know what the hell happened!” Stanley finished with some heat.

“You saved us,” Ford said softly.

“Yeah, and then there’s that. Apparently I’m some kind of hero for – I dunno – not saving my family from getting injured?”

Ford spluttered, taken aback by that. “You saved us from far worse!”

“Sure, and I’d take credit for it too, if I could remember any of it. But since I don’t, how about you tell me.”

Ford drew a deep breath, straightening his back again. He could understand why Stanley wanted to know. The memory wipe would be confusing enough in itself, but with no reference points other than the obvious fact that something deeply unsettling had happened, it would be unbearable. At the same time, it was the equivalent of starting a story at the end. “You want me to tell you about Weirdmageddon.”

“Weirdma-what?”

“It’s what we called it.” Ford fidgeted with the sleeve of his coat. “It was very nearly the end of the world. If not for you, it would have been.”

“Okay. I saved the world.” Stanley’s tone was only slightly skeptical.

“It’s a very long story.” It was long, and Ford wasn’t sure how to tell it.

“Then tell me the short version. What happened to you and the kids, why can’t I remember anything, and are we still in any kind of danger?”

“I—” Ford hesitated. “I need you to know something first. In case it triggers memories, or for when or if your memories return later. I need you to know that I’m sorry.” He wanted Stanley to understand, but at the same time he knew he wouldn’t, not now, perhaps never.

Stanley looked back at Ford. “For what?”

Ford didn’t meet his eyes. “Ford many things. I’ve made mistakes. We both did, but I—I haven’t been a very good brother.” He swallowed. This was probably incoherent for Stanley at the moment. “Maybe that’s for a later time. I just need you to know that I’m sorry.”

“That’s not ominous at all,” Stanley said with a raised eyebrow.

“I didn’t mean—”

“Just tell me about Weirdma-whatnot.”

Ford took a deep breath to collect himself. “A demon called Bill Cipher broke through to our dimension.” He glanced at Stanley, but to his relief his brother didn’t seem disinclined to believe in the existence of demons. “Ultimately,” he continued, “the blame for this lies on me. Many years ago, Bill manipulated me into creating the means to make this invasion possible.” This was still hard to say out loud, but it felt necessary.

Stanley said nothing, so Ford went on. “Bill immediately started to remake this world in his chaotic image, which is what we referred to as Weirdmageddon. But because of a naturally occurring barrier around this area, he was unable to take it beyond the valley of Gravity Falls.” Ford’s hand clenched around the fabric of his coat. “I went to confront Bill on my own. I believed I’d be able to defeat him alone, but I was wrong, and he captured me.”

Stanley’s eyes narrowed. “So what did I do?”

“Frankly, I don’t know the details. I don’t even know how long Weirdmageddon lasted. Normal time was out of order, and in any case I wasn’t—” He bit his lip. Don’t think about it. “I think it was a few days. A week, maybe.” At least if he included whatever time he’d spent encased in gold. “Eventually you, the kids and some other survivors arrived with some kind of giant robot that distracted Bill while you freed me, as well as the townspeople Bill had petrified.”

Ford barely noticed that he’d hunched his shoulders, looking down at his hands again. He skipped the next part. “Bill wasn’t distracted for long. He recaptured all of us and threatened Mabel and Dipper.”

Stanley’s face hardened visibly at that.

“I was ready to give in and give him what he wanted for the chance that they’d be safe.” The memory tasted like ash in his mouth. “But the children bought us a few minutes of time and you came up with a plan to kill Bill, using a weapon that erases memories. If we could use it to erase a person’s entire mind while Bill was projecting into it—” He trailed off.

“And that’s why I can’t remember stuff?”

“It should have been me!” Ford turned to finally look straight at Stanley. “But I have a metal plate installed in my head that would have protected both me and Bill from the effects, so I couldn’t.” He needed Stanley to see that. “So you took my place, tricking Bill to go into your mind instead of mine, and I wiped your memories to destroy him.” I did this to you. “Once he was dead, Weirdmageddon was reversed. We’re safe now, thanks to you.”

“Huh.” Stanley leaned back, relaxing slightly. “Makes as much sense as anything.”

“I didn’t think it would be possible for you to regain your memories,” Ford admitted, “but Mabel refused to believe that.”

Stanley smiled fondly. “She’s something else, isn’t she?”

“She really is.”

Shifting to face Ford again, Stanley adjusted his fez, frowning. “Let me get this straight, though. Am I getting it right? This guy held you captive for several days while you had something he wanted, and you wouldn’t give it to him until he threatened the kids?”

Ford winced, but nodded. He might have said too much, but at the same time, not enough. “I knew how to break the barrier around Gravity Falls and take Weirdmageddon worldwide,” he admitted, quietly. “And I would have told him, if you hadn’t found another way.”

“I get that, and I can hardly blame you.” Stanley’s face darkened. “But before that, you refused.”

Ford didn’t reply, but he didn’t have to.

“And he hurt you.” That wasn’t a question either.

Ford looked away. “Yes, but it could have been much worse. He was able to reverse the damage he inflicted, so most of it may as well never have happened.”

“Great Moses.” Stanley fell silent for a few seconds. “Do the kids know?”

“I believe they’re under the impression I was turned into a gold statue for the whole duration.”

“Good.” He seemed to hesitate, and but before the silence could become too awkward, he continued. “Look, Sixer. I barely remember you. For all I know, you’re really a horrible jerk of a brother. But—” He paused again, then shook his head and made a strange, lop-sided grin. “It sounds to me like we make a hell of a team in a crisis.”

Conflicting emotions roiled in Ford’s stomach. Stanley had no idea how wrong he was. But he was also right. In the end, he was right, and maybe that’s what mattered.

“Can I—” Stanley paused. “Oh, of course I can.” Without further warning, he wrapped his arms around Ford and pulled him into a tight hug.

For a moment Ford was too startled to move. Startled, but strangely without fear. On the contrary, he felt safe. Stanley might not know, but he cared, and wasn’t that such a Stanley response to the situation? He shouldn’t be worrying about Ford. He’d lost objectively far more than Ford had. Nevertheless, it was warm, and somehow, Ford needed this. He put his arms around Stanley’s back, returning the embrace, and buried his face in his brother’s shoulder.

“I used to stand between you and the bullies, didn’t I? When we were kids.”

Ford hugged him tighter. “You did,” he said, voice muffled by Stanley’s suit. “You remember that?”

“Very vaguely. I bet you’re the little brother.”

Ford raised his head with a small huff. “I’m fifteen minutes older than you.”

“I find that hard to believe.” He grinned.

They disengaged from the hug, but stayed together in silence for a while longer, leaning against each other’s shoulders. It was comfortable, to the point that things seemed to be almost well. It wasn’t, not really, and Ford knew he didn’t deserve this. If Stanley remembered him properly, he would hardly be so comfortable with him. For Stanley’s sake, he finally stirred. “We should—”

Stanley spoke simultaneously. “Do you—”

Both fell silent. Finally, Ford gestured for Stanley to go first.

“I was gonna ask if you need any first aid or something. Or if you took care of that.”

Ford’s slight grimace must have said enough. Come to think of it, it would be a good idea to clean and disinfect the surface burns, at least.

“We should do that, then.” Stanley shifted and stretched his arms. “What were you gonna say?”

“I was going to suggest that we find those photo albums. It would be a place to start.”

Somehow, amnesia and all, Stanley looked happy. “Right,” he said. “Sounds like we’ve got a plan.”

[shadowofthelamp]

I’d Save You

Summary: Ford’s opinion on his brother changes fast when he volunteers to swap clothes, and later he decides to have a talk with Stan about it. (No ship)

My follower giveaway prize fic for @ave-aria! Thanks for such a good request.

Like this fic? I have kofi fic commissions open!

Link to fic on Ao3

Wordcount: 1525

Rating: G, no warnings (all canon compliant, more ‘missing scene’ than anything)

Ford realized how much he loved his brother when he saw him fall to his knees after Bill entered his mind.

He got close a few minutes earlier, though, when Stan snapped his fingers and demanded Ford hand over his sweater, already tugging his sweat-stained suit pants down over his shoes.

“...What?”

“Look, we got one shot at this. I know how to shimmy out of these things pretty quick but we don’t know how long we’ve got. Gimme your clothes.”

It clicked then, and Ford didn’t know how he didn’t see it before, and he realized his brother was an absolute genius. But they were still running on adrenaline and Ford was still sore and achey from Bill’s torture and doesn’t dwell on the revelation. After all, Stan was a con artist. Tricks like this were what he did. He stripped quickly, trading everything with Stan.

Stan started rummaging around in the trench coat’s pockets. “You got anything sharp in here? A letter opener or some kinda alien gizmo?”

“What for?” Ford asked. “We can’t exactly stab Bill.”

“Not that.” Stan gestured to the side of his face. “Your hair. Looks like Bill fried part of it off or something, and that’s gonna be a giveaway.”

Ford dug into the pockets of Stan’s pants and pulled out a small swiss army knife. Stan grabbed it, using the knife part to hack off the sideburns. “There we go. Now, just act like I’m an idiot for agreeing to the deal, got it?”

“Right. Yes, got it.” Ford said, in awe of how quickly Stan had taken control of the situation. Perhaps he was still recovering from the electric shocks. Stan cleared his throat.

“Bill, you asshole.” He sounded exactly like Ford. Perhaps a bit more gravelly, but Ford himself wasn’t at his best, so it was forgivable. He flashed a grin. “Your turn.”

“Bill, you asshole!” It felt good to say, and Stan laughed.

“Not bad, but you gotta really lean in on it. You know what I sound like.”

“Of course I do.” Ford said in his best impression of Stan’s voice, and Stan’s face hardened as they heard screams and thundering footsteps.

“It’ll work. It has to.”

________

The knob on the side of the memory gun felt wrong under his sweaty fingers. Stan had collapsed to his knees, head thrown back and fingers brushing the bricks below. Bill was inside of his brother. As soon as he realized he was tricked, he was going to wreck havoc, and destroy him. He couldn’t just erase ‘BILL CIPHER’. Bill would burrow in, find a way to ruin Stan from the inside out from whatever was left. It needed to be a clean wipe.

‘STA’ Stan hadn’t known this was coming. He hadn’t spent nearly three decades preparing to die facing Bill. He just saw what needed to be done, and did it. No hesitation.

‘NLEY’ Ford didn’t want him to go. Stan’s face was… almost calm, now. His eyelids didn’t even flutter, looking for all the world like he was simply dreaming. Ford hadn’t seen that. Most of the time they’d been together these past weeks, they’d been snipping at each other, or avoiding each other. He’d only caught it in glimpses- when Stan was cheering about beating Probabilitor, or relaxed watching TV with the kids. Stolen moments he hadn’t been meant to see.

‘PI’ That he wouldn’t have seen, if Stan hadn’t spent thirty years trying to bring him back. He’d wanted a thank you, and now Ford could never give him a proper one; one that wasn’t ground out in irritation for someone he had still seen as the 27-year old that had shoved him into the portal.

‘NES’ He’d be saying goodbye forever when Stan would be saying hello, not knowing what he’d done, what he’d sacrificed.

But Ford would. Ford would know that Stan had saved the world when he hadn’t been able to. Stan was the hero of this story, and Ford realized that he would have moved heaven and Earth to save Stan if he’d been the one pushed through the portal now, Bill Cipher be damned.

The memory gun vibrated as he pulled the trigger, hearing it buzz like a bug zapper, frying Stan’s very being from the inside out. It just kept going for a solid minute- there was a lot of Stanley Pines to erase, after all. Fifty eight years of it.  Beside him, Ford could hear Mabel sniffling and the fabric of Dipper’s jacket shuffling around, and from the corner of his eye he could see that Dipper was wringing the fabric part of his hat.

When the gun had finally erased everything, Ford’s arms dropped. Stan remained on his knees, barely twitching but his mouth had fallen open. What Ford would give to hear a snarky comment, a laugh, a joke that proved he didn’t just lose his brother.

Instead, all he heard was the clatter as the memory gun hit the floor. There was noise- the people in the banners had been freed and fell to the floor- but he didn’t care, sight locked on Stan. He took a single step forward before the Fearamid shook, the entire structure breaking apart. Dipper and Mabel both grabbed one of his arms, and he held them close. Mabel grabbed Stan’s fez before it was sucked up into the giant X in the sky, hugging it to her chest. While Stan’s hair rustled in the wind, he remained dead to the world, soft breaths lost in the roaring disassembling of Weirdmageddon.

It took them a few minutes to find him after that. It was a miracle he’d been dropped nearby, dazed and still on his knees.

Ford’s heart nearly stopped when Stan didn’t recognize Mabel and didn’t properly start again until he yelled at the pig.

_______

The next morning, there was a lot to do. Dipper and Mabel had started packing, (Mabel had to figure out which sweaters to keep and which to gift to Candy since she didn’t have nearly enough room in her suitcase, something that had invoked some fake swears he’d definitely heard from Stan a few times.) Stan had mentioned they were going to throw the kids a birthday party to Lazy Susan when he stopped by for breakfast, so by now half the town probably was coming.

At the moment, Stan had a pen in his mouth and was trying to tape a banner up over the door to the gift shop. Ford watched for a moment. “How much do you remember?”

Stan pulled the pen out from between his teeth and tucked it behind his ear. “Remember you should be helping me with this.” Stan said, turning around. “It’s still fuzzy, but I got the main stuff down, I think. I know the kid’s names and your name, and Wendy and Soos. Can’t remember the blonde kid’s that stopped by earlier, though.”

“Preston’s daughter? I admit, I don’t quite remember that one either.” Ford said, taking the tape from Stan and tearing off a good-sized piece before handing it back up so Stan could finish. “There was… something I wanted to tell you.”

“Is it bad news? Nobody ever starts good news with ‘I need to tell you something’, they just say it.” Stan asked. “You better not be radioactive from alien experiments after everything.”

Ford shook his head, a small smile starting to build. “No, not that, although it is quite possible parts of me aren’t entirely human anymore. No, I wanted to thank you.”

“For w- oh.” Stan blinked.

“I know how difficult it must have been. I checked over the work you did that was still in the basement lab this morning, and if you only had one journal… really, it’s a wonder you didn’t do better in school if you managed to rebuild most of the portal with only part of the blueprints. You could have been a great engineer, and a good assistant-” Ford cleared his throat. “Anyways. Thank you. For saving me. I wasn’t well when you found me and honestly I haven’t always been in the best state since, but I’m glad you brought me back.”

Stan blinked again, before a grin spread across his face and he grabbed Ford into a tight hug, burying his knuckles in Ford’s hair to give him a noogie.

“Ha, knew you had it in you!”

“I just can’t believe you’d risk the world for me. I made the warnings clear.” Ford said, half to himself, but Stan let go of him and stepped back.

“Of course I would. Yeah, we were angry at each other, but we were both going through a lotta stuff. Would you have done it for me?” Stan tensed a bit at the question, but Ford laid a hand on his shoulder.

“I might not have then, paranoid and confused, but I certainly would now. I wouldn’t want to be here without you.”

That time when Stan hugged him, Ford was fairly certain if his ribs hadn’t been reinforced with Algian steel from Quantus 5 they would have cracked.

[monotype-on-phantom]

Okay, so. One of my big problems with DP narratively is that Danny doesn't lose. Sure, he struggles. But he doesn't ultimately lose. You always know he's going to win in the end. I'm curious to hear your thoughts - is this just a byproduct of "keeping it a kid's show"? Do you think it could have benefited from a few bittersweet endings that ultimately raised the stakes for us viewers, knowing that he can lose? I have my own opinions but I wondered what you thought.

Danny does lose, though.

The only things that Danny always succeeds in by the end of any given episode is not dying and keeping his town generally fairly safe from ghost attacks, which are kind of necessary for a “superhero show” (even if that’s not what I ever saw this as.)

In the old Batman: TAS, Gotham City isn’t going to be destroyed, and when the Joker attempts a mass murder, Batman will always stop him. He will also always succeed in not dying. That doesn’t mean he can save everybody or that he’ll win every fight or even that he’ll be able to stop every plan.

Danny loses many one on one fights. Against Vlad, Bertrand, Desiree, the Circus Gothica ghosts, Pariah Dark. Heck, Danny lost a fight against the Box Ghost in Splitting Images because of his lack of experience. A lot of the time, the only way Danny gets out of a situation is because someone else comes in to help him.

If you want Danny losing against an enemy at the end of an episode, Public Enemies is one. Walker is sent back to the ghost zone, but he succeeds in his plan to turn the town against Danny. Everyone believes that he’s the one responsible for all the ghost attacks. Walker’s plan worked. What’s more, Danny was unable to save his new friend, Wulf. He was dragged back to the ghost zone and locked up by Walker again. The town’s safe, but a lot was still lost.

The Fright Before Christmas, while mostly silly, is another instance where the antagonist technically wins. Danny was forced to learn the Ghost Writer’s lesson. There was no way around it. It was a happy ending, sure, but it was still technically a loss on Danny’s part.

In Masters of All Time, Danny does succeed in saving his friends, but that was Vlad’s plan. He ended up having to give Vlad exactly what he wanted. He wasn’t able to avoid playing into Vlad’s hands without sacrificing the lives of his friends.

He’s not even able to keep everyone safe the way he’d like to. Valerie has her arm in a sling at the end of Reign Storm because she took so many beatings. Buildings are often damaged by attacks. There’s one time when the show cuts it really close to showing us a child dying on screen because Danny failed to catch them.

Danny also loses in most other aspects of his life. He loses the respect of his peers, even when he’s able to temporarily gain it in episodes like Pirate Radio. He loses his free time, sleep, and grades. He loses in all attempts to fight back against his bullies. He loses in trying to convince his parents and Valerie that he’s not an enemy. He loses in his love life. Every episode ends with “well, the town is mostly safe, but only for now and also Danny’s life still sucks.”

The only other way Danny could lose in the show would be having somebody die. And stay dead. Antagonists are able to achieve their goals sometimes. The only ones who can’t are the ones who want to kill Danny or someone else, take over the world, or permanently alter Danny’s life in an extremely drastic way (such as Freakshow).

Having someone die could’ve worked to the show’s advantage (and by that I mean someone other than, say, Vlad’s clones or something). That probably was because this was a kids’ show. We can’t have Danny die, because he’s the protagonist, and for the show to continue, that’d have to be undone in some way or another.

That only leaves things like if Jazz really did leave her family for Vlad, or if Freakshow got away with kidnapping Danny, or if Ember managed to enslave the entire world. Things like that obviously can’t happen, because that would either require the characters to completely go against who they are or the show to just...be over.

The best solution I can think of is to completely remove the episodic nature of the show entirely and have huge story arcs with larger stakes. Maybe Freakshow does get away with Danny and now there’s a huge journey Sam and Tucker have to go on to save him. That would completely change the nature of the show, though.

The town is mostly safe at the end of the episode. That’s basically the only way Danny always wins. And the only reason for that is that Danny will literally not stop fighting until he is dead. That’s proven in Reign Storm, where he was seconds from dying before Vlad showed up. So, unless the show went all out and killed the protagonist, he is always going to be able to beat back the antagonist, even if only temporarily.

I don’t think there’s much else the show could’ve done. (In fact, I personally wish Danny had more wins. A good example is Fright Night, where Danny loses the bet with Dash and it leads to a disgusting outcome.)

It’s still a cartoon. Just like how Dipper and Mabel weren’t going to really lose against Gideon or Bill in Gravity Falls, or how the Crystal Gems will always be able to keep Beach City from being totally destroyed in Steven Universe, Danny will succeed in protecting most of the people in his town. Anything else, though? That’s much more questionable.

[diannaphantomfiction]

Shooting Star

Chapter 2 of 2

Fandom(s): Gravity Falls

Rating: T

Summary: Requested by @waldorkler. Mabel is killed by Bill during Weirdmeggedoen, readily sacrificing herself to save her brother.

Date Uploaded: May 8th, 2017

Previous 

3 Years Later

Dipper hummed softly as the bus he was on made it’s way along a small forest road on the way to Gravity Falls. He doodled runes in his journal, unable to keep the smile off his face. He was finally going home. Granted it had taken 3 years, a near constant stream of arrests for things like trespassing and destruction of property, and the fury of Pacifica Northwest to convince his parents to let him come back. 

Still, being on the way home made him feel better than he had in years. Better than every exorcised ghost, banished fae, and dead ghoul ever could. Of course, every one of those things had gotten him arrested, so maybe that was a bad comparison. 

Dipper practically jumped out of his seat as the bus pulled up to his stop. He didn’t bother trying to contain his excitement (he was the only person on the bus after all) and ran down the aisle before jumping all the steps just as the doors opened. His Grunkles, Wendy, Soos, and Pacifica were all waiting by the bench for him, bright smiles on his face. 

Soos was the first to rush forward and envelop Dipper in a giant bear hug. “Welcome home, little man! Or not so little man. You’re significantly taller than you were when you left.” 

Dipper laughed and hugged Soos back. “Well, it was three years ago, but thanks Soos.” 

Wendy plucked her old hat off Dipper’s head and dropped the blue trucker’s cap onto his head. Both hats were pretty worn from wear, but they were still recognizable. She smirked at him as he straightened the hat. Dipper chose not to comment on the fact that her college was four hours away from Gravity Falls and also that it was a Thursday. 

Pacifica smiled at him, placing her had on her hip. “Look at you. And here I was thinking that you were just blocks of texts in my email inbox.” 

“Hey! That email was very hard to set up and maintain! Especially after my parents decided the Internet was the source of all my ‘issues’ and literally sat behind me every time I asked to use the computer. Did I mention I had to ask for permission to use the computer? Like a five year old.” 

Pacifica rolled her eyes, “Stop whining. It’s not cute.” 

“Shut up, Paz.” 

“Never.” 

Dipper turned to his Grunkles and hugged them both. “Hi Grunkle Stan, Grunkle Ford.” 

“Welcome home, Dipper,” Ford said before pulling back, “We hear you’ve been doing a lot of good work back in Piedmont, but…” 

“47 arrests?” Stan interrupted, “Come on, kid, I know you’re smarter than that! I taught you better, than that! Looks like we’re going to have to have actual lessons!” 

Ford sighed, “Stan, you are not taking Dipper out on a robbery.” 

“Robbery implies a threat of violence! I was thinking something more along the lines of burglary.” 

“No, Stan.”   

Dipper beamed. Yep, he was home.

“My parents would kill me if they saw me in this. I love it.” 

Dipper smiled at Pacifica as she ran her hands along the old, orange VW van. It was pretty perfect. Big, spacious, and weird as all come out. Of course, the idea of running their business out of the back of an old van seemed silly (like Scooby Doo silly), but it was also so very them. 

“We could get Soos to help us take out some of the seats, get some storage bins to hold all the stuff, make sure we also pack the best camping gear we can get…” 

Pacifica pulled out a cigarette and lit it. “We need business cards or flyers or something. We can put them up at every dinner we stop at.” 

“We’ll only be able to take some of our lore books…” Dipper pulled out a journal; this one adorned with the number five and started writing. “We’ll need to pool our college funds together to make our money last as long as possible.”  

Pacifica blew out a long breath of smoke, “Dipper, you’re a man after my own heart.” 

“You still haven’t gotten over the ‘piss my parents off in every way possible’ phase?” 

“I’ve made it my life goal.” 

Dipper glanced up from his writing and paused his pen for a second. “I thought our life goal was to rid the west coast of monsters.”

Pacifica shrugged and made a soft “meh” noise. She breathed in her cigarette for a few seconds, breathed out again, and looked at Dipper curiously. “So, we going to buy it or not?” 

“Oh, definitely.”

Dipper pretended not to notice as Pacifica sat down on the rock next to him, placing a cigarette into the cigarette holder decorated with a snake and several jewels. She opened held out her pack to him. 

“Come on, Dipper. You think I don’t notice that you take the occasional one on bad nights?” 

Dipper sighed and accepted the offer; taking a long drag once he’d lit the cigarette. 

Pacifica took a few drags on her own cigarette before she spoke up. “Talking to Mabel again?” Dipper glanced at her. “You know that cigarette holder was cursed three weeks ago, right?” 

“But it’s not anymore. So, what do you talk to her about?” 

Dipper let a long breath out through his teeth, “Whatever. Weird things we’ve seen. Jobs we take. How my day went. That time I caught you singing Lady Gaga while you thought I was asleep.” 

“You told her about that? You’re the worst.” 

Dipper let a small smile slip past. 

“Hey, Mabel?” Pacifica called up at her star, “Did Dipper tell you about the time he decided it would be a good idea to check out a chupacabra case and he had to bath in the river and he got caught in the current?”  

Dipper groaned, “Don’t tell her that.” 

Pacifica just smirked before going somber, “It doesn’t ever really get better, does it?” 

Dipper took a deep breath. “It gets easier to not think about I think. And it helps that she didn’t want me to dwell. If I think about it too hard, though, it’s just as bad as they day it happened.” 

Pacifica hummed. “The world is shit.” 

“Can’t argue with that.”

“But what if it’s aliens?” 

“It’s not.” 

“But what if it is?” 

Pacifica sighed and gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, “Dipper, it’s never aliens.” 

“But what if it is?” 

“If you’re going to keep this up, I need a smoke,” she looked at him from the corner of her eye, “It’s probably just a meteoroid or some space junk.” 

Dipper smiled, “Yeah, alien space junk.” 

Pacifica glared at him and brought the car to a stop. Before she could even get a single word out, Dipper was out of the van with a bag over one shoulder and a journal tucked under his arms. It had been ages since Pacifica had seen him this excited, and even though it was almost certainly not aliens, Pacifica didn’t have the heart to keep telling him it wasn’t. 

She trailed behind him at a much more reserved pace in the direct of the small crater that had recently formed just outside of Gravity Falls. Dipper had the decency to wait for her at the top of the crater at least. They climbed down together and Dipper brushed away some dirt only to freeze. 

Pacifica didn’t get it at first. It was a small mass of mangled metal and wire. If she looked at it the right way, it almost looked like… 

“Braces…” Dipper choked and fell fully onto his knees, “Mabel…” 

Dipper scooped the braces up and held them to his chest, tears beginning to slip down his face. 

Pacifica sat down next to him and rubbed his back, “It’s okay… Let it out, Dipper. Let it out.” 

Dipper broke down in front of her, raw, angry, loud, sobs mixing with screams and curses as he held the mess of metal close and rocked back and forth. Pacifica sat with him and rubbed his back, already thinking of asking Robby for a plot at the cemetery. 

Nobody in town would ask why Dipper wanted to bury a small mass of metal next to Old Man McGucket.

Nearly eighty years later, Dipper was lying in a hospital room. Somehow, he’d managed to outlive everyone. Stan, Ford and Soos had nearly been a given. They were so much older then him, and if he’d died before his Grunkles he was pretty sure they would have raised hell to get in contact with him and beat up his ghost. Wendy died hunting a vampire in England of all places. Pacifica had succumbed to lung cancer almost five years ago, years of smoking finally catching up with her. Dipper wife, Theodora, had passed not long after that. Dipper wasn’t alone of course. His daughter, Jadis, had brought her wife and their kids to say goodbye. Grenda, her voice booming just as loudly in old age as it had when they were kids sat in a corner, talking to his oldest grandson. A couple of young great-grandkids played on the floor, completely unaware of what was going on around them.  

Dipper smiled, his heart swelling with warmth and content. This was it. It was time. He took one last deep breath and closed his eyes, allowing the light to surround him. When he opened his eyes again, he was sitting on a bench, surrounded by the most beautiful landscape he’d ever seen. 

“Dipper!” 

Dipper turned his head and gasped softly. Mabel ran up to him and pulled him into a big hug. 

“Dipper!” 

“Mabel!” He hugged her back, laughing softly. 

“I so proud of you! You did it!” 

“I suppose I did.” 

Mabel beamed at him, she was glowing with joy. “We have to much to talk about! I have so many stories to tell you and there are so many awesome people here you have to meet! Oh! Everyone’s going to be so happy to see you!” 

Dipper laughed. “Alright, alright, just slow down a little. I’m not as young as I used to be.” 

“Psh! Like that matters here!” Her face softened even more and she gave him another big hug. “Welcome home, bro.”

[radioactivedelorean]

Forgiveness

Ford could hear the excited chatter filtering through the windows in his room. It sounded like everyone outside was having a great time. He buried himself further in the blanket on the sofa he was sleeping on. He pulled the blanket over his head and curled up. He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to make a sound, fearing someone would hear him and then their fun would be interrupted. It would be ruined, just like everything else he ruined. He wasn’t welcome at the party, anyway. He wasn’t welcome anywhere.

The reason he felt this way? Guilt. Crushing, deafening, overwhelming guilt. Everything that had happened to the town over the past week was his fault. He brought about the apocalypse and his family had to suffer as a result. Heck, he erased his own brother’s mind because he was too much of a damn coward to let someone kill him as soon as Bill entered his own mind. A swift bullet through the center of his head would have done it. But no, he had to let his brother pay for his mistakes. Again. All Stanley ever did was help him, support him, protect him, and what had Ford done in return? Exile his brother, treat him like shit, punch him and erase his mind. Stanley had worked for thirty years on that portal trying to bring Ford back and the elder twin had never thanked him. Not once. He’d only done it so Stanley would hold his hand in that circle, but even then Ford had messed the whole thing up. For the sake of sheer arrogance, he had corrected Stanley on his grammar and the whole circle was ruined.

It wasn’t the first thing he’d ruined.

All Ford ever did was use his brother as a shield. The whole time through school, Stanley had protected his brother from bullies, given up his own dreams to support and protect Ford and what had Ford done? Turned his back on his brother as soon as Stanley had the first hint of a selfish thought. What a hypocrite. Everything Ford had done was for himself. He was the selfish one. The arrogant one. The screw-up. The freak.

Ford knew he deserved this treatment. He didn’t deserve to be forgiven for all the pain he’d caused. All the trouble. All the horror, fear, injuries, damage. Everything had been his fault. He’d made a deal with Bill in the first place, all to chase his own selfish desires. He built the portal, despite Fiddleford giving him all those warnings to dismantle the damn thing while he had the chance. He refused, Fiddleford was traumatized and the man lost his mind, all a result of Ford’s selfishness. He spent thirty years living in the dump, for Moses’ sake! He never returned to his family. His wife, his young child, he had to abandon them all because Ford was so selfish. He’d ruined not only Fiddleford’s life, but his partner’s family’s lives too.

It wasn’t just Fiddleford’s family who had paid for his mistakes. His brother had to fake his death and attend his own funeral in order to cover up the fact that Ford was missing. Both of his parents had passed away believing Stanley was dead, and they never found out that in truth, Stanford was the one missing. Stanley had sacrificed so much to keep Ford’s disappearance a secret. He had, once again, sacrificed everything he had to keep his brother safe. And when Stanley had needed Ford the most, Ford had ignored him. Shunned him. Turned him away.

And then there were the twins. They were just kids, only just teenagers as of today - they should have never had to even know about any of this. Stanley had had to lie to both them and their parents in order to keep Ford a secret. Then Ford came back and ruined everything. He’d caused the twins so much pain. He’d tried to separate them. He’d asked Dipper to become his apprentice without so much as a thought about Mabel’s feelings. The last things the twins had done before Weirdmageddon broke out was fight. They’d argued, Mabel had run off and the rift had been smashed. The kids had fought tooth and nail to get Ford back and they nearly died. Bill could have killed them, all because Ford was so damn selfish. Those kids had been traumatized, and it was all Ford’s fault.

The sound of laughter echoed through the room from outside and Ford curled up tighter, trying desperately to vanish into thin air. Part of him felt guilty for missing such a big occasion, but that little part was drowned by the rest of him, telling him to stay hidden and don’t make a sound. That he’d only ruin everything if he tried to join in. He could see the kid’s disgusted faces, the look of hatred on the faces of the townsfolk, the utter loathing on Stanley’s face. Heck, even Waddles would probably growl at him or walk away or something. He didn’t deserve to be included in the fun, anyway, after everything he’d caused. He’d only be shouted at, or shoved, or have rocks thrown at him. A thirteenth birthday was something the kids would only experience once and he didn’t want to spoil it for them. He’d already spoiled the last part of their summer, he couldn’t ruin their birthday too.

Ford’s stomach growled noisily and he couldn’t help but punch himself in the gut, trying to shut it up. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t eaten at all in the last week or so. It wasn’t important. He couldn’t leave his room, anyway. If he did, he’d only be glared at by his family. He’d ruin their day with his very presence. That was why he had to be careful whenever he left his room to get some water or to go to the bathroom. He didn’t want to bump into anyone and cause them more problems. He’d already done enough to ruin their lives. He wasn’t welcome in this house, but he was too scared to leave.

He just wanted to get out of their lives forever. Everyone would be so much better off without him. They wouldn’t have to worry about the apocalypse, or the insane researcher who lived in the woods. They wouldn’t have to wonder if each day might be their last. But, as much as he wanted to, Ford couldn’t bring himself to leave. He desperately wanted to make it up to everyone by leaving, but he just couldn’t. Not while Stanley’s mind was still being recovered. He had to stay, for the sake of his brother. He’d kick himself if Stanley had a memory lapse, or forgot everything entirely, and there was nobody around to help him. He couldn’t erase memories of himself from the townsfolk for one reason: he’d seen what it had done to Fiddleford, and he wouldn’t wish that upon anyone else. That’s what made it so difficult though. Ford knew nobody wanted his help. He knew that everyone just wanted to get rid of him. He knew that everyone saw him as a burden, a leech, a nuisance, and he knew that everyone else knew they’d be better off without him.

Ford froze, hearing someone walk past his bedroom door - if that’s even what his room could be called. It was in the semi-underground part of the Shack and was once his old study, but he’d been sleeping in here ever since he was brought back, on account of the fact that Stanley had claimed his bedroom for his own. Whoever was walking past got to the end of the hall and then walked back. Judging by the sound of the footsteps, Ford guessed it was one of the twins. He sighed quietly, still not moving from his position on the couch. The laughter and chatter from outside died down as the voices, in unison, sung an out-of-tune version of ‘Happy Birthday’. There was cheering, followed by Dipper and Mabel talking. Dipper was talking about how he already had everything he ever wanted. Lifting the blanket from off his head, Ford strained to listen to the boy’s words.

“I’ve already got the best friends I could ever ask for. You’re all like family to me, even though technically Grunkle Stan and Mabel are the only ones who are actually family.” There was some light chuckling from the crowd and Ford felt his heart sink. It was true. The kids didn’t see him as family. He didn’t deserve to be part of their family, anyway. Still, he couldn’t help but let out a quiet sob as the truth sunk in. The kids didn’t care about him. Why should they, after everything he’s done?

Then it was Mabel’s turn. “My only wish is to shrink you all down and take you home in my pocket, but since that’s probably impossible, I just want everyone here to sign my scrapbook.” Ford’s heart sunk further. Everyone here. He wasn’t out there with them. ‘Everyone here’ meant the whole town apart from him. Why should he get to sign the book? So that every time Mabel looked at it, she was reminded of the guy who nearly caused her death? The guy who ruined her summer? He didn’t deserve to be part of something like that. There was no way she’d let him sign the book, anyway. Mabel didn’t care about him. Nobody did.

There was more chatter and cheering after that as the party went on. Ford pulled the blanket back over his head again. Quiet sobs racked his body, making the blanket tremble. All his thoughts had been confirmed. There wasn’t a single person in the town who cared about him. Why should there be? He caused the apocalypse. He hurt them. People could have died and it was all his fault. Ford covered his mouth, trying to stay silent. Even though he knew nobody would be able to hear him, he didn’t want to make a sound. Making a sound would mean people would be reminded that he was still here and not lying in some dirty forest somewhere far away from anyone he could hurt.

Because, at the end of the day, lying alone in the middle of nowhere was all Ford really deserved.

00000

Two days later…

“C’mon kids, got everything?”

“Yes, Grunkle Stan!”

Ford flinched. The kids were right outside his bedroom door. They must be leaving. That was it. Summer was over and he’d failed to apologize to them. Just like he’d failed to give them a good summer, like he’d failed to give them a good uncle. Ford buried his face in his hands, remaining hidden under the blanket. He’d failed to be anything worthy of redemption. Ford heard the kids dragging heavy luggage towards the door. He could hear the voices of their friends, waiting to say goodbye to them. Ford wasn’t going to join them. He didn’t want their last memories of summer to be the man who caused the apocalypse talking to them. He couldn’t ruin this moment for them. His stomach growled again. He still hadn’t eaten anything since two days before Weirdmageddon broke out. That made it over two weeks since he’d had anything to eat. Two days before Weirdmageddon, then the apocalypse itself had lasted just over a week, then it had been over a week since it had ended. Overall, it looked like seventeen or eighteen days since he’d eaten anything. He’d been drinking, obviously, but only water. It was the cheapest drink and the easiest to get hold of.

There was a sharp, quick knock on the bedroom door. “Stanford, the kids are leaving. You gonna say goodbye or are you gonna keep sulking?” It was Stanley. Ford’s heart leaped into his throat. Someone was actually talking to him. He was at a crossroads. Did he stay inside, make everyone happy by not being there, but let the kids down for not saying goodbye? Or should he come out of his room and wave them off, only to ruin their last day in Gravity Falls? Either way, he’d hate himself for it. Plus, he wanted to at least say goodbye to them, maybe try and apologize, even though he knew they didn’t want to hear it. He decided to bite the bullet. He could always just retreat to his room again once the kids had left.

“Coming…” Ford said quietly. He pulled the blanket off of him, tossing it to the floor, and grabbed his glasses. He flattened down his hair and got up. His hunger caused his head to spin, but he ignored it. He took slow steps towards the door, becoming more aware of the pain in his body. He still hadn’t fully healed from all the tortures Bill had put him through. He knew that the severe lack of food would only make it worse, but at this point he didn’t care. Pulling his boots on, he grabbed the handle of the door and opened it slowly. The light from the hallway blinded him momentarily and he briefly thought of what a mess he must look.

Stanley stood on the other side of the door, his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. His eyes widened and his mouth fell open as he saw the state his brother was in. Ford’s hair was sticking up all over the place. He had dark circles underneath his eyes. His eyes were bloodshot, the area around them puffy and red. His face was covered in scratches that hadn’t quite yet healed. His cheeks were sunken and he looked terribly thin. Sure, his brother had never quite had the gut Stan did, but he just looked so underweight. What was the worst part, however, was the expression on Ford’s face. His brother looked a mixture of downcast and terrified. He looked so sad, yet still had a slight bit of nervousness about him, as if Stan would lash out and hit him at any moment. He looked so guilty, too. His whole body was curled in on itself. He had his arms wrapped around his stomach, his shoulders sagging. He refused to meet Stanley’s concerned gaze, his head down and his sight fixed on his feet.

Stanley was at a loss for words. “Ford… what… what’s wrong… ?”

Ford’s voice was quiet and cracked. “… I’m so sorry…” His shoulders were shaking and he covered his mouth with one hand, feeling tears pricking his eyes.

Alarm bells went off in Stan’s mind. Ford had done this to himself. “Sorry for what…?” Stan asked softly, although he was pretty sure he knew the answer. He tried to put a hand on his brother’s shoulder, frowning when Ford flinched and pulled away, trying to retreat back into his room. “Ford, please,”

Ford shook his head quickly and turned to go back into his room. Stan put his arm out to stop him. Ford let out a startled noise and stepped away quickly, pressing his back against the wall. His eyes were wide and terrified. “Ford… please…” Stanley said softly.

“I’m so sorry…” Ford mumbled again. He buried his face in his hands again. “F-for everything… it’s all my f-fault…” He sunk slowly to the ground. “Everything… it’s all because of m-me…” He pulled his legs up close to his chest, keeping his face hidden in his knees.

“Ford…” Stan knelt beside his brother. He put a hand on his shoulder, feeling Ford flinch again. “When was the last time you ate?”

Ford shrugged. “Dunno,” he mumbled. That was a lie - he didn’t want to tell his brother that he hadn’t eaten in weeks. “Doesn’t matter,”

“Of course it matters!” Stan bit his lip. “Ford, you’re a wreck.”

“So?” Ford’s voice was quiet, barely audible. “Just go and say goodbye to the kids. Don’t worry ‘bout me,”

“Grunkle Stan! We’ve got all our stuff and the bus is nearly here!” Dipper’s voice called from outside. “You coming?” The younger twins ran back to the door, stopping in their tracks. They hadn’t seen Ford in over a week. Now he was sitting in the hallway with his face buried in his knees. Ford flinched at their voices.

Stan looked up at the kids. “I’ll be there in just a second.” He turned back to his brother. “C’mon, Ford. Talk to me. How long has it been since you last had some food?”

“Nearly three weeks,” Ford mumbled into his legs.

“Three weeks?!” Stan exclaimed. “Crap, Ford! You need to eat something!”

“N-no I don’t,” Ford murmured, stubbornly keeping his face hidden. He couldn’t let his brother see the tears in his eyes. “I c-can’t.”

“What the hell do you mean you can’t?” Stan demanded. His face softened as his brother flinched at the harsh tone in his voice.

“I c-can’t, ‘cause it costs you money and you’ve already given up so much for me and I’ve just been selfish and I hurt you and I hurt the kids and-”

“Whoa, whoa Ford, calm down,” Stan put his hand on the side of Ford’s face. “Hey, look at me Poindexter.”

Ford lifted his head slowly. The dark circles under his eyes were even more apparent now. His eyes brimmed with tears. “I’m so s-sorry, Stanley.”

Stanley shook his head and pulled Ford into a hug, tightening his arms around him when he felt Ford try to pull away. He laid his chin on the top of Ford’s head, rubbing small circles across his back. “It’s okay… it’s okay…”

And then the floodgates opened.

A second later, Ford was sobbing into Stan’s shoulder, gripping the back of Stan’s sweater for dear life. “I-I’m so sorry .. this is all m-my fault… I erased y-your m-m-mind a-an-and I hurt you… a-and I hurt the kids… I d-didn’t wanna c-come see them on their b-birthday cause I’d r-ruin ev-verything a-and you sh-shouldn’t h-have opened that portal everyone w-would have b-b-been b-better off without m-me I j-just hurt p-p-people I’m a f-freak I’m a m-m-monster I r-ruined the summer B-Bill should have j-just killled me I should never have b-been b-b-”

“Ford.” Stan cut him off before he could finish. “Don’t ever say that. We’ve all made mistakes-”

“None of yours ever caused the apocalypse, though, did they?” Ford snapped. “I summoned a demon just so I could become famous. If I w-wasn’t so damn selfish none of you would have ever been h-hurt.”

The twins, tears in their eyes, rushed forwards and embraced Ford in a tight hug. “Grunkle Ford we love you.” Mabel said, burying her face in Ford’s sweater. “You’re not selfish. You told us how to defeat Bill.”

“You played games with me,” Dipper added. “You’re not selfish. You protected me from that alien guard thing. You saved my life.”

Ford shook his head and tried to pull away, but Stan held onto him and wouldn’t let go. “No, don’t defend me. What I did was wrong and horrible and I don’t deserve to be forgiven.”

“Grunkle Ford stop it!” Mabel shouted. Ford froze. “You do deserve to be forgiven. None of this was your fault. All of us have been tricked by Bill. But you helped us get rid of him, and now he’s gone! He’s gone because you helped us!”

“She’s right Grunkle Ford,” Dipper said. “Bill’s gone because you helped us get rid of him. Grunkle Stan got his memory back. It’s okay!”

“It’s okay, Poindexter,” Stan mumbled into his brother’s hair. “It’s okay. We’re all okay, because of you. Now would you quit beating yourself up so much and come and say goodbye?”

Ford took a deep breath and nodded. The kids got up and Stanley pulled his brother to his feet, keeping an arm looped over his shoulders. Together, the family walked outside and towards the road where the bus was waiting. Ford looked at the twins, then at his brother. A small smile came to his face. They’d forgiven him. He couldn’t believe it, and part of him was still convinced he didn’t deserve it, but they’d forgiven him. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve and took a deep breath.

Stanley looked at his twin. “You alright Ford?”

Ford smiled. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

This time, he wasn’t lying.

——-

Something I wrote based off of @skaleigha  ‘s Guilty Ford AU, which can be found here. I really love this idea and I had to write something for it. Ford really needs hugs ;-;

There are probably plot holes the size of craters in this. Oh well 

I thrive off stangst

EDIT: Now on AO3

[lephuongtrang]

There was……literally an entire episode…requiring Mabel to acknowledge her flaws and realise she’s not as good as she thought she was…..Sure, the unicorn was a sham, but she still went through that process of self-evaluation–and she freaking broke down crying trying to redeem herself. I honestly feel like ever since Bill highlighted every sacrifice Dipper has made for Mabel, people have been clinging to that as Mabel being infinitely excused from all consequence. But what they seem to forget is in that very same episode, Mabel realised how selfish she’d been and sacrificed something she’d poured her heart and soul into (a puppet show may not seem like much but at the time that production was her world) for her brother’s sake. I think one of the issues with this entire thing is that yes, Mabel is selfish–that’s one of her defining flaws–but people demonise the “selfish” character trait over nearly every other character’s major flaw. I’m going to leave Ford out of this because he’s another one disproportionately attacked for his major flaw (usually defined as “arrogance,” which yes, I’ll acknowledge he has!) But honestly…what if Bill had highlighted every time Dipper’s flaw of “obsessiveness” had put someone in danger? Or every time Stan’s stubbornness and/or dishonesty, no matter how well-intentioned, caused more problems in the long run? (This is less often, I’ll admit, but certainly happened in Scary-oke, Weirdmageddon 3, and even Roadside Attraction to a lesser extent) The point is, every character in Gravity Falls has flaws, and every character, young and old, is learning. Many episodes have an instance where each character has had to apologise for their biggest mistakes, even Mabel. But on the other hand, character development doesn’t always have to be progressive to be consistent–often times people in the real world pledge to do things or resolve traits about themselves and then don’t. It’s a human action, especially if you’re a kid. Sure, character development can include eventually overcoming those bad traits, but not always–a person doesn’t have to lose their flaws 100% to be developed! Instead, character development can also be about gaining dimension, perspective, and depth as the storyline progresses. Which Mabel has certainly done consistently since Tourist Trapped. Finally, addressing the issue where Mabel seems to never face any consequences: I’ll admit that in some scenarios (like The Deep End or The Time Traveller’s Pig), Mabel benefits from someone else’s sacrifice without having to sacrifice anything herself. However, this is not always the case. People seem to find her avoiding punishment to an awkward extent because they don’t include ill effects that involve Mabel along with other people. Mabel paid for her ignorance in Tourist Trapped by almost getting kidnapped and crushed by a freaking gnome monster. She paid for manipulating Stan in Fight Fighters by nearly falling off a water tower to the point where she developed her own fear of heights. And she definitely paid for the rift issue in DaMVtF (which was??? a freaking accident in the first place???) by witnessing tons of the people she loved getting threatened by Bill and nearly dying at his hand herself. Just because Dipper, Stan, or someone else was involved in a dangerous situation doesn’t mean Mabel wasn’t affected too. I usually don’t debate online about this stuff because first, everyone’s entitled to their own opinion, second, no character on this show is free of error (and realistically so), and third, because it is just a show. But what does make me sad is people saying “Mabel doesn’t love Dipper as much as he loves her” or “Mabel’s the most undeveloped character on the show cause she just keeps doing the same selfish things” because it really seems to diminish the beautiful sibling relationship Alex and all the other writers worked hard to establish on this show. The twins are both kids, and realistically make mistakes because of this. Some mistakes have consequences, some do not, which is also realistic. And it’s okay to be upset about them from a fandom standpoint! But I personally don’t understand why people are so stuck on hating characters like Mabel when the entire show is about the importance of family, connection, and love. And it isn’t just Mabel; I’d personally stand for any of the characters on Gravity Falls. Not because they’re perfect, but because they’re well-written, develop over time, and they’re human. Making mistakes is part of life. Of growing up. I really think that’s a Gravity Falls moral in itself, honestly.

[chocobro-prompt0]

Fandom: Gravity Falls Ship: N/A Words: 1073 A writing request for @waldorkler. In which Dipper is returning Home on the bus alone in an AU where Mabel dies during the Weirdmegedon. He soon learns he’s not alone.

This was going to be one of the hardest things Dipper ever had to do in his life. Taking on Bill with his friends and fellow towns people was so easy compared to what he had to do now. Dipper fidgeted with the tassels on his backpack while still seated on the Greyhound bus. It had been hours ago that he left behind both the town of Gravity Falls and the heart wrenching event of losing Mabel, his one and only twin sister, to the Weirdmagedon. They were supposed to grow old together and visit Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford at the Mystery Shack every so often. But those plans were dashed during the Weirdmagedon when Mabel selflessly sacrificed herself to save him from Bill’s last ditch efforts. 

Mabel was gone and he had to face that fact head on. In the empty seat next to him laid Mabel’s belongings, a bitter reminder of the task he had to do by himself when he got home.

“Boop!” Mabel attempted poke Dipper’s nose to maybe lighten the mood a bit, although he hand went right through her brother’s nose. “Oh right! I’m a ghost now, silly me.” Mabel gave a good laugh, though it didn't exactly make the mood any lighter.

Dipper did however look up. “Mabel?! How are you even here?!” He was stunned, sure he dealt with the paranormal before and even a ghost or two during his summer Vacation, but that was part of the whole dimensional rift wasn’t it? “When did you even get here?!”  He was full of questions he wanted to ask but he managed to restrain himself. The sudden outburst did catch the attention of the limited amount of passengers also taking the bus, but they went back to paying attention to what they were doing before.

“I’ve always been here, Dipper! Us twins we stick together!” Mabel grinned a great big smile. She’d give her brother a huge tight hug, but unfortunately she’d just phase right through him.

“How come i haven't seen you before now?!” Dipper blurted out, the dam of self restraint broke and he started blurting out other question for her. Mabel listened to her brother ramble off questions, some of which she really didn't understand, for a bit until she felt she could probably stop her brother.

Mabel positioned a finger over Dipper’s mouth and softly shushed him. Of course there was no mass to it, Dipper still noticed and quickly quieted down. “I barely understood a word you were saying, but I’ve always been right here as a little ghosty ghost the whole ride over, i even boarded the bus right next to you.”

“What?! Why didn’t you say anything sooner?! Why didn't anyone else say goodbye to you?!” Dipper shot off those questions faster than the speed of light. It was at that point one of the other passengers had set a hand on Dipper’s shoulder in a bit of worry.

“Are you doing okay there sir? You’ve been talking awfully loud to yourself all of a sudden.” The concerned passenger asked taking their hand off his shoulder.

Dipper looked at the passenger and back to Mabel. He looked between the two and figured that maybe he was just imagining Mabel was there with him? Or maybe they just couldn't see Mabel. Whatever the case he shouldn’t bring too much attention to it. “Yeah i’m fine.” The statement was a lie of course and the passenger didn't really buy it but they just shrugged it off and went back to their seat.

Dipper went back to looking at Mabel who was petting, or well attempting to pet Waddles, who had been fast asleep on the other side of Mabel’s bags. “so that's why...” He said while keeping his voice down in order not to cause anymore of a scene.

Mabel turned her attention back to Dipper and gave him a soft almost sad smile. “Yeah, i actually thought you couldn't see me either.” She admitted, but soon after the confession her expression changed right back to the classic doofy unserious smile Mabel always made. “But you can see me and look what I can do!” Mabel waved her arms inside her body. “I couldn't do that while i was alive!” “Mabel focus! You’re a ghost! How am i supposed to explain that you’re dead and now apparently a ghost to our parents?!” Dipper whisper yelled.

Honestly that was the last thing Mabel really wanted to talk about. She quieted down trying to think of what to say. Sure being a ghost was cool, but having to see her parents move on along with Dipper. “Well,” she started trying to find the right words, “don’t tell them about the ghost thing.” she smiled softly and what she said next was heartbreaking for Dipper to hear, more so because he couldn't say she was wrong. “I mean it’s not like they’ll be able to see me anyways.”

Dipper sat there silently. “But how am I going to explain that you’re dead and how you died? I can't just say a scentiant one eyes triangle being from another dimension stabbed you and took your body with him back to his dimension!” Dipper barely managed to keep his voice down.

“Look Dipper I don't know how you’re gonna explain this to Mom and Dad. You’ll have to make something up.” Mabel was just as stressed about the upcoming event. Even though she didn’t have to say anything to them, but she’d still have to watch her parents have to come to terms with the fact she was never coming back.

“How am i gonna make something up? You were the imaginative and creative one in the family!”

“You’ll think of something I’m sure of it.” The bus came to a smooth stop in front of their home. This was where they’d have to get off and face their parents. Mabel held out her hand to her brother who was still plenty freaked out. “But look Dipper, I’ll be right there with you, so you won't be doing this alone. I’ve got your back.”

“Thanks Mabel.” Dipper rubbed his eyes and got up grabbing all their things. Waddles came to life and jumped up into Dipper’s arms before going back to sleep. Dipper sighed and shuffled off the bus. At least he’ll have his sister right there with him. At least they’d still be together.

[diannaphantomfiction]

Shooting Star

Chapter 1 of 2

Fandom(s): Gravity Falls

Rating: T

Summary: Requested by @waldorkler. Mabel is killed by Bill during Weirdmeggedoen, readily sacrificing herself to save her brother. 

Date Uploaded: April 17th, 2017

Next

“WAIT!” 

Mabel’s desperate scream echoed throughout the pyramid, the reverberating sound made everyone freeze in their tracks. Even Dipper, trapped beside her in the demon’s hand with a bright blue pine tree shining down on them, froze rigidly beside her. Mabel took a deep, shaky breath and squeezed her eyes shut. 

“Well, Shooting Star? We’re waiting!” 

Mabel was trembling. Dipper squeezed her had nervously, shaking at what she might be doing. 

“This is my fault,” she whispered, slipping her hand out of Dipper’s, “Don’t hurt Dipper, please. This was my mistake. Don’t hurt Dipper for my mistakes.”

“Mabel, don’t you dare young lady!” 

“What the hell are you even talking about, kid?!” 

“Mabel, no!” 

Bill just laughed, his cackles filling the entire empty town, “Oh, you’re just a hoot aren’t you, Shooting Star! The heroine’s sacrifice! That’s just rich! But can it really be considered a hero’s sacrifice if you caused all this?!” 

“Now’s he’s just talking nonsense!” Stan yelled, shaking his fist at the giant demon, “Don’t listen to him kid!” 

“Sorry Grunkle Stan! Grunkle Ford! He’s right. I broke the rift, I brought this all to town and I’m sorry!” Mabel let tears slip past her eyes and shook even harder, barely containing the loud heaving sobs that were threatening to burst out of her chest. 

“He tricked you Mabel!” Dipper kicked at Bill’s fingers angrily, “It’s my fault for keeping secrets from you!” 

“Shut up and let me do this for you! For all of you!” 

Bill was still laughing, “Oh, this is great! Humans! You always crack me up! You want to take the blame, Shooting Star? You can take the blame! In front of this miserable little town, and then in front of the entire world! They’ll hate you so much and once you see how much they hate you, then I’ll kill you for everyone to see!” 

Cipher reached over and stretched one on the holes of the older twin’s caged just wide enough to drop Dipper through before he closed it back off. As soon as Dipper landed he ran to the side of the cage nearest to Bill and Mabel. He reached through the holes desperately. 

“Mabel! NO!” 

Ford forcibly turned Dipper away and hugged him tightly. “Don’t watch.” 

Bill snapped his fingers and a wave of blue spread rippled throughout the room, past the walls, and across the entire town, “Well, go on Shooting Star! Everyone’s listening!” 

Mabel let out a sob and wiped her tears and snot away with the sleeve of her sweater. “H-hi everyone, it’s Mabel Pines.” She let out a sad laugh before continuing. “I need to say sorry. This mess, the end of the word, this all my fault. I’m so sorry. I broke the rift between the dimensions. I let Bill bring all his friends here and I’m so sorry…” 

The built up tears poured out of Mabel’s eyes, interspersed with heavy, room-filling sobs. Bill sighed, tuting sadly at the little human trapped in his hand. “Guess that’s all I’m going to get out of you, huh?” 

Dipper tried to push out of Ford’s arms, kicking his great uncle in the legs and screaming. Senseless sounds mingled together with Mabel’s name as Ford held him tighter. Mabel only cried harder. 

Bill cackled away as he pulled his arm back and wound up, before sending Mabel flying out the pyramid in a streak of light. As it happened, Ford pressed Dipper’s face into his chest, holding him tighter as the young man struggled. Mabel didn’t scream as she died, she didn’t have time to, but it was horrifying and he didn’t want Dipper to have to see that. 

“Well, Stanford, what’s it gonna be? Or do I get to kill Pine Tree, too?” 

“Stanley. Do not let Dipper go,” Ford said, passing Dipper over to Stan.  

“Wait! Uncle Ford! NO!” 

Something wasn’t right. There was more pressure on Dipper’s arm than there should be, as if there were six fingers rather than five. 

“I accept your deal Bill. On the condition that you let my brother and nephew live.”

“Great Uncle Ford? Where is she?” 

Ford hummed sadly and gazed up at the night sky before pointing to a single star, shining brightly against the blackened sky. “There.” 

Dipper laughed, wiping tears away from his eyes and smearing more dirt across his face. “He turned her into a star.” 

Ford chuckled darkly, holding back his own tears, “A fitting remembrance for Mabel if I’ve ever seen one.” 

Dipper kept laughing. There was nothing else he could consider doing. Nothing else made any sense. 

“My parents are never going to let me come back, Grunkle Ford.” 

“I’ll talk to them, Dipper.” 

“They’re not going to listen to you.” 

“Perhaps. Perhaps they will.”

Dipper sat there until his laughter died down. He slumped over his own knees, the bags under his eyes and the shaking of his limbs far to noticeable now. “I-I think I’m going to try to get some sleep.” 

Ford nodded, “I suppose I will go look in on Stanley, then.” 

Dipper stumbled up the stairs, his legs threatening to give up under him and his eyes slipping closed. Dipper ignored his own bed and fell down into Mabel’s, bunching up her blankets to his face and taking a deep sniff. Underneath the smells of forest, they smelled like her. Sugar and pig and yarn and glue. Dipper sneezed sending sparkling pink flakes flying. And glitter; of course there was glitter. 

Waddles whined loudly and settled down on the floor next to Dipper. Dipper chose to curl up under Mabel’s blankets, glitter and all. 

“Come on, Dipper! You’re not going to even try to help Grunkle Stan?!” 

Dipper pressed her pillow over his head. “Shut up. You’re not even real.” 

Suddenly, something heavy hit Dipper in the side. Dipper sat up confused; there was a book next to him on the bed. Putting on his cap, Dipper picked up the book as Waddles snorted curiously. Mabel’s scrapbook! 

“GREAT UNCLE FORD! GREAT UNCLE FORD!” 

Dipper jumped out of bed and ran downstairs, the scrapbook tucked under his arm.

The next two days were fairly close to hell. Aside from grieving over their lost family member, Dipper and Ford had to help Stan regain his memory. It was a slow going process, and while the scrapbook was a great help, this was far more like something Mabel would be good at rather than Dipper or Ford. 

Luckily, the town had rallied around what was left of the Pines family. Meals were dropped off on the doorstep, the Sheriff had called Dipper’s parents so Ford wouldn’t have to, and Pacifica even gathered people together to make a small memorial for Mabel in town. 

Dipper had chosen to focus on something else though. After that first night he’d started to notice strange things happening around the shack. Waddles was staring at things that were not there, there were strange hot spots around the house, and glitter had start appearing in places it shouldn’t be in neat little piles. He had a theory, naturally, but as he stood in his room with his uncles, he wasn’t sure he wanted to be right this time. 

Dipper stood in front of the sigils he had drawn on the floor and took a deep, shaking breath, before beginning to speak in Latin. A soft, blue glow emitted from the sigils. It was working. Dipper closed his eyes, focusing on Ford’s hand on his shoulder and the words he was trying to form. 

“Dipper, it’s working,” Stan whispered, staring wide-eyed at the glowing humanoid form forming in front of them. 

Dipper kept repeating the words until Ford squeezed his shoulder. He closed his book and looked fearfully at the form of his sister floating in front of him. She was translucent and blue, as expected, but how she looked still terrified Dipper. It finally sunk in how painful her death must have been. Half her hair was gone, there were burns covering her entire body, and the parts that didn’t have burns were simply exposed bone. 

Dipper dropped the book, shaking. “M-Mabel?” 

“Hi, guys.” Mabel smiled at her family, revealing the twisted and warped metal that used to be her braces, and ran forward, arms outstretched. Instinctively, Dipper opened his arms for a hug from his sister, only to have her pass through him in a wave of burning heat. 

“Oh. I guess I can’t do that anymore…” Mabel said, looking down, placing her arms behind her back, and kicking one of her legs back and forth. 

Dipper held back a sob. “Mabel…” 

Mabel looked at Dipper, than Ford, then Stan, seeming to ignore how sad everyone looked, “You’re all alive! And the Shack is in one piece! You guys beat Bill!” 

Stan laughed sadly, “We sure did kid.” 

“YES!” Mabel screamed pumping her fists into the air. 

Dipper couldn’t help it. He started laughing as the tears fell and their uncles quickly joined him. Mabel smiled at them. She looked a little proud of herself, but mostly her eyes were sad and scared. Dipper reach out his palm facing her and Mabel copied his movement with the hand that still had skin on it. He could almost feel her. Dipper wiped his eyes with his shirtsleeve. 

“Mabel, I’m so sorry! If I had just told you what was going on…” 

“No, Mabel,” Ford said, “It’s my fault, if I had told you about the rift…” 

“Hey! If anyone is taking the blame for this it’s me!” Stan yelled. “I was supposed to take care of you kids and I failed!” 

Mabel stomped her foot, sending out a heavy wave of heat in their direction. “STOP IT! I don’t blame any of you! Bill killed me, not you, and he killed me because I let him!” 

The three living in the room looked at the ghost girl, all of them quiet. “I wanted to say good bye… and talk to each of you of you’ll let me.” 

“Of course!” Ford exclaimed. 

“You don’t even have to ask, kid!” 

Dipper just nodded, choosing to focus on Mabel’s eyes since they still looked like Mabel. 

Mabel smiled and tugged on what was left of her hair, “Grunkle Ford? Could I talk to you first?” 

“Of course, Mabel.” 

Stan put his hands on Dipper’s shoulders and steered him toward the door, “We’ll wait downstairs until you two are done.” 

“W-What? Grunkle Stan! I-I…” 

“Mabel’s not going to leave without talking to you, Dipper, is she?” 

Mabel looked scandalized, “Of course not!” 

“See? Let’s give them some privacy.” 

Dipper and Stan waited in the living room in silence for what felt like hours, but was in reality only around fifteen minutes. Ford came down with a sad smiled and tear tracks on his face and Stan went up. Dipper watched the sun sinking down toward the horizon. He was sure that by the time the sun was set, he’d be without a sister again. 

“Dipper.” 

Dipper turned at the sound of his Great Uncle’s voice and shoved his hand in his pockets, slowly making his way upstairs. Mabel was waiting for him; hover just a few centimeters above the floor with Waddles trying to cuddle up to her. Dipper pulled his hat down so the brim covered his eyes and sat down across from her. 

“Hey.” 

“Hey.” 

Dipper tried not to look at his sister, instead tracing the wood on the floor with his finger. Mabel looked around the room sadly and tried to put her hand on Waddles, only for it to go into his body. 

“I’m going to miss this room. I’m going to miss this entire town.” 

“It’s not going to be the same without you. I mean, who am I going to hang out with next summer?”

Mabel laughed, “I’m sure you’ll find someone.” 

Dipper wiped his eyes, trying to hold back the water coming forth. 

“Dipper? Will you take care of Waddles?” 

“Of course I will. He’s surprisingly grown on me.” 

Mabel laughed, a bright, happy, room-filling laugh. After that the two talked. About home, about the town, about their friends, and their family, about everything that had happened over the summer, and what ever came to mind. Mabel glanced out the window as the sky turned orange. 

“Dipper? Can you promise me you’re not going to fall apart?” Mabel asked, pulling her knees to her chest. “I know we’ve been together forever, but I can’t stay and I don’t want you to fall apart because I’m not here and I know we were always two parts of a whole and it’s gonna be hard, but you have to try! Please?” 

Dipper blinked, “I’ll try, Mabel. So we’re on to the serious stuff now? Does that mean what I think it means?” 

Mabel nodded, “Yeah.” 

Dipper sighed, “Mabel… I don’t know if I can do this without you… Everything we’ve accomplished this summer has been together.” 

“Don’t be stupid!” the temperature in the room started to rise as Mabel pouted at her brother. “You’re the awesomest, smartest, most capable person I know! You can do anything you put your mind too and I know it’s gonna be great!” 

“But do you have to go?” Mabel sighed, “It hurts, Dipper. Dying hurt. Like a lot. And it still hurts. I’m not supposed to be here, not anymore. And Grandpa Shermie says it all stops hurting if I just go into the light.” 

“Grandpa’s there?” 

Mabel nodded, smiling. “He’s so happy to see me, Dipper. I know everything’s going to be okay.” 

“I’m still gonna miss you.” 

“I’m gonna miss you too, silly! But I better not see you for a loooooong time! You got it!? If you show up before you die naturally I’m gonna beat you up!” Dipper laughed, this time feeling a little happier. 

Mabel hesitated for a second before she wrapped her arms around him, sort of. Dipper felt like he was being wrapped in warmth and he wrapped his own arms around her carefully. It wasn’t quite right, but it was close and all the feelings were still there, so it was good.  

“Alright, Grandpa. I’m ready.” 

Mabel stepped back and smiled at her brother, waving goodbye as she slowly faded into a ball of blue light. The Mabel-ball floated upward and phased through the ceiling. Dipper ran to the window and watched as a shooting star streaked across the sky. Mabel’s star glowed just a little bit brighter in the sky. Dipper let tears fall down his face as he stared up at his sister’s star. 

“Bye Mabel. I hope you really are happy there. I’m gonna miss you.”