Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ten years is a long time. A lot of things can change in that time. Stanley Pines understood that. After all he lost track of the number of time she had to change his identity in that time. Not to mention the fads and trends. A lot of things change in ten years.

He just didn’t expect his brother to change that much.

That wasn’t the only thing on his mind. Nor was it the first. No when he first received that postcard that urgently called him to Gravity Falls his first thoughts were worry. Sure he wished that Ford had called out to him BEFORE this, but if his brother needed him, he would be there no matter what. Though after driving for hours with little to no sleep, he didn’t expect to find a lone shack in the middle of the woods. Nor, did he expect to his brother wild eyed and armed with a crossbow.

Which brought him to now. Sure his brother was still the genius he knew. How else did you explain the crazy transdimensional portal thing. Or all the mumbo jumbo. But apparently he was also a few screws loose. How else did you explain the crazy questions and the yelling about someone being after his eyes. Seriously.

But it did feel good to be told that Ford still trusted him. Despite everything. Only to hurt even more when he was told to go as far away as possible. That kind of deep betrayal on top of all the stress of his life was NOT doing him any favors.

Stan wasn’t a complete idiot, but he was never very good at holding his anger at bay either. Something that got him in trouble many times over Hell it was how this whole mess started ten years ago. So it was very understandable that he exploded.

“THAT'S IT!?! You finally want to see me after ten years, and it’s to tell me to get as far away from you as possible?”

“Stanley you don’t understand what I’m up against. What I’ve been through.

Oh that was priceless to hear from the spoiled one. The one that could get whatever he wanted. The one that hadn’t had to scrape by for the last decade. Stanley wanted to much to just rip into his brother. To challenge him. And in many instances he would.

“Oh yeah? Then why don’t you tell me wise guy.” However this time he wanted to hear what his brother had to say first. Hear what minor problems Ford had gone through so that he could throw it all in his twins face with his OWN troubles. Real troubles.

Ford seemed to hesitate for the slightest of moments then he took a deep breathe. “I made a deal with a demon.”

Okay, that was straight outta left field. Like a strong left cross to the chin when you expected a straight jab. Did ford deal with the mob too? Is that why he was out here? “Umm Stanford, I think the term is a deal with the devil.”

“No, I didn’t talk to a devil. I talked to a demon. From another dimension.” Another.. Stan looked over his shoulder at the giant triangle gate thing. Right.

“Okay, why would you do that? Demon’s are a bad guys right? I’m pretty sure you’re smarter than that.”

Ford sighed deeply, and it became obvious to Stan just how tired his brother looked. When was the last time he had even slept? His twin reached up with a six fingered hand and massaged the bridge of his nose.

“I should have been. However I wanted knowledge. Knowledge he was willing to trade for brief periods of control over my body. I had hoped that…” Another sigh. Depressed and defeated. “I made a mistake Stanley. A terrible mistake. The entire universe is at stake if I don’t fix this.”

“And you need me to take this book so that you can?” Stan asked. He didn’t like this. He wanted to be with his brother, but if this was what he was good for…

“Yes Stanley. Like I said, you are the ONLY one I can trust with that book. Please Stanley.”

Stanley closed his eyes. His fingers became white from his hard he gripped the worn book in his hands. This hurt. This really really hurt. However…

“Fine but on one condition.”

“What condition?”

“When you are done saving the world, you send me another postcard and we meet up to sail around the world on a boat. Deal?” he held out his hand to shake and Ford flinched and stared down at the hand like it was a cobra ready to bite him. His hand flinched to his coat in a way that was very familiar to Stanley. Why the hell would Ford want to pull a gun just because he offered to shake hands?

However Ford seemed to rally, but even then he hesitated. He could see it in his brother's eyes. He was weighing his options. Judging if Stan’s help was worth the cost. It was such a small cost though. What was so important that Ford would consider fulfilling their childhood dream as potentially too big a cost?

However the moment passed. “After I saved the world and gotten my affairs in order. Then we will set sail.”

“I’ll take it.”

With a deep breath and a soul examining stare Stanford took his hand and shook it. “Then we have a deal.”

Stanley’s face broke into smile as he used his grip to pull Ford into a bear hug. “Then I will leave you to it. Just don’t take another ten years sixer.”

“I’ll try not to Stanley.”

With a laugh pulled away from his twin and lifted up a hand saying words he hadn’t uttered in ten years “High six!”

Stanford smiled and even chuckled a bit as he responded “High six.”

He hadn’t felt this good in ten years.

Hours later found Stanley sitting back in the driver seat of his car on some secluded forest trail. He didn’t really have the money to rent a room at the moment. And it was fairly late anyway. However with everything that had happened he just couldn’t find it in himself to sleep yet. He needed something.

After a minute of thinking he reached into the back seat and dug around until he found an old flashlight. Then he cracked open that journal Ford gave him. It couldn’t hurt to see what exactly his brother wanted him to hide right?

Chapter Text

A single decision can change a lot in one’s life. It was a lesson that Stanly Pines was still learning. Though it wasn’t hard to see when you took the time to look back, and just reflect on it all. Stan had a lot of time that he could dedicate to such things these days.

Not because he was sitting in yet another prison cell after yet another scheme went wrong.

Not because he was sitting in some cabin in the woods with only memories and misery as company.

He had time to think because of just how peaceful his life had become. As strange as that was.

Not that it started that way. Despite making peace with his twin brother, he was STILL wanted in most of the united states as well as a few other countries. On top of that he apparently had one of the few things that could doom the whole universe in his possession. That was a lot to have on your shoulders.

For the first fews days it kept him up at night. Reading that journal and seeing what his brother had been up to. Reading about the odd creatures and phenomenon that he had encountered. It seemed to fantastical to be real. However if his brother had honestly built a way to go to other dimensions why COULDN’T these be real? Not that it mattered. He was leaving Gravity Falls. SO how could it have anything to do with him?

He spent several days just driving. Sleeping in his car fitfully. Worried about failing his brother. Worried that he still wouldn’t see his brother even if he succeeded. No sure how he would know if he DID succeed. He was no stranger to lack of sleep and the effects it had. SO he wasn’t really surprised when he wondered into the woods for a piss and stumbled upon a little man asking for a favor. It was obviously a hallucination. As such he would either benefit from this or end up in jail. So he said yes.

The errand wasn’t hard. Go into a nearby town and drop something off. He didn’t quite remember what it was anymore, but he was pretty sure it was a flower. Imagine his surprise that when he returned to the spot he saw the little man that he was there. Imagine how much it grew when he received a gold coin for his trouble. A REAL gold coin. One that was actually worth real money. Now today he was pretty sure he got jipped when he sold the coin. However those funds went a long way. It was also the first step.

Stanley Pines might be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he still knew how to cut. He saw opportunity, and so kept an eye out for more. Which gave him some troubles. You see the odd creatures that you encounter in the world sometimes have vastly different views on what’s valuable. What’s worse, if you should displeasure in the reward they will be displeased back. And the odd and abnormal have LONG memories. Which can also come into play if you please them. A lesson that he had had to learn quickly. Which was just as big a benefit at the rewards in the end.

You see, Stan had learned there are three types of rewards for helping the odd creatures he met. The first was cash rewards. This sometimes meant actual cash in that country’s currency. Most times it meant old coins or even various sized nuggets and bars of precious metals. Though he also received the odd gem. This type was fairly common and the most useful for the short term. Meant he could pay for hotels, gas, clothes, food, and other essentials. Also meant he could squirrel funds away for later.

The seconds type were tokens. These came in two types themselves. Long term and short term. Long term were usually something he could wear and show, like a pin or ring. He had a collection of small flowers that he kept on the inside of his coat that never withered. Symbols of various clans and glens and people that he could show in order to get a small boon like a place to stay for a night, or access to supplies that might otherwise be off limits. Short term, on the other hand, were small tokens that were traded in for bigger favors. Something like a special coin, or even a leaf, that he could hand to someone to get a message to someone, or maybe make sure certain items or paperwork got lost. Both types had been very useful over the years. Saving his skin several times. Though like money he tended to squirrel these away. Favors were sometimes worth more than gold, and relying too much on them can possibly cause bad blood. Something he could not afford.

The third category was the most varied. Trinkets. This last one had Stan mixed for sometime. It was ALWAYS a gamble to accept this as a reward. Sometimes you got something like a statue or toy that you could sell to a collector or pawn shop. Good sources of quick cash if you can find them. Other times you got something that did something. Like a drinking horn that always had a swallow of drink in it when you wanted one, though he was pretty sure it just stole said swallow from the nearest source. However more times than not it was useless junk. A gnarled tree root that the gnome thought was pleasing to the eye. A hunk of stone that the pixie considered a carving. A figurine NO ONE would dare touch because of how creepy it looked. Useless things that he had no need for, yet couldn’t turn down because it would be rude and get rid of all the good will he just earned.

That’s how the first few years went. Travelling across the states, and sometimes outside of them, learning the ins and outs of inter-oddity politics. Doing the odd errand, earning spending money and favors, and collecting a car full of junk.

A few things changed during a gas stop though.

It started when this creepy doll he got from a sewer dweller fell out of his poor overstuffed car. It was a russian style nesting doll. Only the dolls were painted like creepy clowns. The outermost one wa a slightly frowning clown. However the more deeper you went the more he smiled until he was laughing out loud with a mouth full of teeth. Well just as noticed the damn thing had fallen out, someone else had picked it up. He was about apologize when the person asked him where he had gotten it.

That wasn’t a question he was unfamiliar with. After all he had had to answer that same question whenever he brought in an old coin or antique. So he was use to spinning a small tale. However something like this would take a bit more than a “oh a friend gave it to me after I helped him clean out a garage.” He also didn’t feel that telling them he got it from a creature in the sewers after cleaning out a bunch of balloons out of said sewers would fly too well.

So he made something up. Called the doll Bonzo’s Hidden Laughter, and crafted a fantastical story for its origins right there on the spot. Not only had it intrigued the person, but he had gathered a small audience. An audience that asked him if he had anything else. So he dug through his car for another piece of fantastical junk. Then another. Then another. He had them hooked. Hell one person even bought one of the pieces he had brought out. It was awe inspiring how easily he had them. It had been easier than all those years of trying to hustle people with shitty products. And thus started the Mystery Mobile and Stan’s second, and eventually most stable, source of income.

Of course to get to that point still took a couple of months of testing things out and organizing his car. However he did eventually settle on things. First his car was set up so that the front seats were for immediate essentials. Backseat was storage. Everything in the car was organized so that it drew no attention and things could be easily found. However it was the trunk of his car where the magic happened. Metaphorically of course. In the trunk each item he had on display was set in its place with a mix of charms and straps. Each piece had a spot with its name on it for easy viewing. They were also easily removed from their places incase of sale. After all people were suckers for souvenirs, and it wasn’t like he needed them.

He did have one hard rule about the displays though. Every item was mundane. Even the most useless seeming magical item was stored in the back seat. Not because he was worried about someone causing havoc with an item they knew nothing about. Nor was it because of some need to keep up a masquerade. No, magic was useful. It didn’t matter how how small the number of uses were. You never knew when you would either personally need it, or what a more magical citizen of the world might be willing to trade for it. A way of thinking that had paid diffendends for him in the form of lifelong and single use favors. As well as saving his skin on the odd occasion.

Thinking of favors, it took more than a bit of organizing to draw in the crowds. He had spent a few favors getting his car fixed up, painted, and decaled with the name mystery mobile along with a few question marks in order to draw the eye of potential suckers. He also got a special attention grabbing horn installed as well. This went well with his own new in character wardrobe. A simple suit with a question mark tie, a fez with a goldfish on it, and a nice wooden cane. Eye popping, rememberable, and with only a splash of odd.

The tie was gifted to him by asphinx for helping her come up with new riddles and tricks. It helped hone his memory JUST enough to help keep all his stories straight.

The Fez was traded to him by some swamp people in exchange for an ever-drying sponge. It made it so while people could sort of recognize him, they would never be able to really place him. It was what allowed him to get back into and through several cities, states, and countries where he had warrants.

Everything else about his outfit was mundane of course. Even his cane. Though it HAD been gifted to him by a druid after he had freed several young animals from traps. It was made of strong sturdy wood that was well balanced and quite hefty when used as a club.

That was how he had passed the last few years. Driving across the states in his mystery mobile. Intriguing crowds with stories from his ever growing and changing stock. Selling to those who were quick with their wallets. And helping those that were beyond humanity on the side, accruing favors and allowing himself to squirrel away a few more dollars here and there. Though when he got his hands on the new tech that was a cellphone, things got a little easier. He was able to get to more conventions and fairs, and his name got spread around a bit more.

In fact as his recollections come to an end he finds himself at a rest stop after one of those fairs. Reorganizing his trunk. He had several empty spaces to fill and needed some to decide what was going to fill those spots. Even though front and center was STILL Bonzo’s hidden laughter. His most popular attraction, and yet NO ONE wanted to buy it. It was odd. Almost TOO odd…

“Hey! STAN!” a tiny high pitched voice broke him away from his thoughtful stink-eye at the doll.

He turned around and spotted a small green light, that he knew surrounded a small pixie. He smiled up at her. “Nevi! GOt another letter for me?”

“Yup!” the little light called back cheerfully producing a postcard several times bigger than itself. He chuckled to himself as he walked around to the passenger seat/ He had no clue that saved the little pixie from a venus fly trap what cause her to declare a life debt to him. Nor did he think that she would seek to pay said life debt by being his personal mail courier. He wasn’t sure how she found him, or knew where to get his mail.

However as he reached into his car and opened the glove compartment, he kinda had an inkling as to why she was so enthusiastic about doing her duty. As he dug into a bag of black licorice and pulled out a piece he could her salivating from here. As he offered her the bitter candy she quickly swapped it for the postcard. It never failed to amuse him.

However as he looked at the postcard his amusement was replaced by shock. He then eached back into the car and tossed the little pixie the whole bag of licorice. She gave a small “eep!” but didn’t question him as she flew off with her very generous tip. He wasn’t idle himself. He was already getting into his car. He had a place to be.

As he buckled in he placed the postcard from gravity falls on his dashboard. On it was only two words.

“I’m ready.”

It had been waiting for this for nine and a half years. Took him long enough.

He was going to have to hit the bank and a few of his stashes on the way there.

Hard to sail the world on a boat without one.

Chapter Text

As they got on the boat together. Stanley could tell that his brother’s heart just wasn’t in it. One would think that after everything Ford had gone through he would be looking forward to some downtime doing a childhood dream. Yet Sixer seemed to see it as yet another hurdle to get over. One more obstacle in his way to do what he wanted. Which made the first day or two a bit awkward for Stanley, since he had been looking forward to this for years.

Luckily he knew just how to change his twin’s mind.

Stanley hadn’t brought everything with him. He had his car locked up in a safe spot. The majority of his trinkets and items squirreled away as was proper. However that didn’t mean he wasn’t loaded out. Over the years he had learned to always be prepared. To figure out where he was, and where he was going so that he had the right items and favors prepared. Just in case.

And so on the second afternoon they spent on that boat Stanly put a small conch to his lip sand blew.

Sea nymphs weren’t easy to find. They were shy and mischievous at best and malicious tricksters at worst. However Stanly had a knack for being at the wrong place at the right time, an eye for opportunity, and a tendency to act first and think later. And so he after a little comedy of errors, Stanly ended up with a long term favor despite rarely going on the ocean. A favor he called upon just so his brother could meet some sea nymphs in a safe setting.

His brother had a fascination for the odd. Stanly decided to indulge him. Cashing in favors, and telling stories once he had his brother’s attention. And boy did he have his brother’s attention.

They once again became quite the pair on that trip. Over the course of the voyage they had caused trouble, solved problems, made friends, and foiled enemies. His brother saw a bit more of the world that he had merely glimpsed at in Gravity Falls. And the look on Ford’s face as they pulled back into the dock at the end of the voyage was vastly different than the one he started with.

Of course Stanly had been content. A bit saddened since they would be parting, but content. That was until Ford had offered him a place to stay, and a job.

That was how Stanley Pines became a professor at the University of Oddology. Specifically the Professor on the identification and use of magical items, and how to recognise and interact with odd races. Which meant he was teaching people of different ages, most of whom had a far better education than he did. Not that it mattered. His brother had believed he could do a good job so he barrelled on through it with sheer weight of personality and fast talking. It certainly helped that he could call in people to meet and greet his students and expose them to the odd the world they wished to live in.

Not that teaching was the only way he had helped his brother in his efforts to spread Oddology. His collection of trinkets and items had been brought in, catalogued, and tested. Many of which were now on display or held in reserve, though he was allowed to keep some of the more ‘mundane’ items on his person. He had also used several of his favors to build bridges and open new doors for his brother and his growing staff of researchers. Which filled him with a certain amount of pride.

Hell the mystery mobile was still in operation when school wasn’t in session. Though it had been renamed to the Oddology Mobile Lab. It was also joined a collection of vans and trucks carrying samples of odd things, examples of magic, and was crewed by a group of people human and otherwise. He could no longer sell souvenirs and tell tall tales, but people got to experience things they never thought they could, and many young minds were exposed to the wondrous.

With a sigh Stanley broke free from his reminiscing and stretched in his chair. Putting down his red pen he reached over and picked up his trusty drinking horn. Taking a nice long pull from it he looked over his desk and the stack of essays on it. It had been almost a decade since he had become a teacher, and he still couldn’t get over just how much work it could be.

His eyes then went towards a very familiar clown doll that was watching him work. To be completely honest, he didn’t remember when he started keeping Bonzo on his desk. However it had become a fairly recognized fixture. Much like his outfit which was a carry over from his mystery mobile days. He had made sure to have the thing tested on more than one occasion. However while it was odd, there didn’t seem to be anything special about the nesting doll.

Coincidently his classes were fairly free of troublemakers. Those that would cause any trouble either quickly dropped the class or changed their ways. Though that could have just been the fact that he would not put up with their shit. Or maybe it wasn’t coincidence.

For what was probably the hundredth time that month he found himself giving the little doll the stink eye. There was just something about it. Sure it was creepy, but there was something else to it. There just had to be.

“Hey Stanley! You got a message.” Called out a little voice, and just like that Stanley’s mood went from suspicious to amused.

“Hey Nevi.” He replied to his personal courier and teaching assistant. “What does Ford want?”

The little glowing woman pouted at him. “What makes you sure it’s from Ford.”

“It’s always from Ford. even though he COULD just Text. You have more to do than deliver messages and get my mail.” Stanley reasoned. And she did. The little pixie that he had saved had matured a fair amount from the days she ran around all over the place to Stanley his mail for pieces of licorice. She was officially his assistant. Which meant she helped him prepare for classes, and grade papers. Sure she still collected his mail, but she meant more to him than just that.

“But he gives the best treats.” She whined, and it really was a whine. He couldn’t help the chuckle that rose from his chest.

“Yes, I see that.” He joked as he poked her stomach. Which earned him his finger a smack and a very serious frown. This just made him chuckle even more. “So what does my brother want?”

“He wants you to come down to the lab later. They have some new items they want your opinions on.”

“When is Sixer going to remember that I’m not a scientist? Why does he think I’ll have a viable opinion?” It was an old complaint. One he gave just about every time he received such a request.

“Maybe because you spent several years living with magic items, and you learned how to use them effectively and creatively.” Was the equally old response. One that he received every time he complained.

“Fine. When does he want me to come over?”

“At your earliest convenience, tonight.”

“Alright. Help me finish these up so we get over there then.”

Without another word the little pixie floated over to the stack of essays and shrunk several of them along with a red pen to her size. She then sat down using the old clown doll as a back rest. The three of them sank into a companionable silence as they went over the ideas of their students, and silently prepared to see what new toys Ford had gotten his six fingered hands on this time.

Life was good.