Chapter Text
Dipper was going through his old “Guide to the Unexplained” videos.
Great Uncle Ford had taken the journals back and Mabel was with Grunkle Stan in the kitchen, leaving Dipper with nothing better to do that clean through some of his junk.
He had forgotten about these videos as more exciting things popped up during the summer. And, writing in the journals was an easier way to catalog the strange happenings, or at least, it was.
“Today we investigate anomaly #23: Grunkle Stan’s secret tattoo.”
Dipper cringed at himself going in to see Stan in the shower. He had to stay on the roof for hours afterwards. Dipper still doesn’t even know where that tattoo came from. Stan didn’t mention it at all when describing life when Ford first came back. Hey… wouldn’t Ford know where that came from? After all, they still are twins, even if they hate each other. Suddenly excited, Dipper runs downstairs.
He runs past Mabel and Stan throwing things into a terrible sounding blender and into the closed gift shop, about to put his hand to enter the code when Stan’s voice stops him, “Kid! What’re you doing?”
Dipper sighs and backpedals back to the kitchen. He sees now that Mabel is pouring glitter into the blender. Mabel juice, then. “I was just going to ask Great Uncle Ford a question.”
“Sixer said he didn’t want to be disturbed, he’s working on ‘something too scientific for you to understand,’” He drops the actually accurate imitation of Ford’s voice with the finger quotes he did around with words, adding a huff of breath. “I fix his portal all by myself and he still believes he’s the smart twin!”
Not wanting to open that particular can of worms, Dipper starts to back out of the room, only to be stopped by his own twin this time. “Wait, Dipper, maybe we can answer your question for you!”
Dipper does consider it, but realizes admitting to Stan that he was going to go down and ask Ford a question about Stan would not be well perceived. “Nevermind, it was stupid anyway.”
“Whatever,” Stan grumbles out, turning around to grab a pack of plastic dinosaurs on the counter. There it is, mostly obscured by his white shirt, Stan’s tattoo. Grey and faded with time. Can’t Dipper just say that question came up now, with seeing it?
Before he could talk himself out of it, he blurts it out, still full with is nervousness and instant regret, “Grunkle Stan, what’s your tattoo?”
Mabel’s pouring slowly stops and she looks to Dipper with wide eyes, mouthing “ Why? ”
Somewhat answering Mabel and trying to build his argument, he continues with a little more confidence at that fact that Stan didn’t immediately lash out. “We all agreed no secrets between each other.” Well, they agreed to that and immediately continued keeping secrets. But then Stan spilled his guts when Ford returned from the portal. So it was different now. “And you were being all weird about it, so I know that it has to mean something.”
Dipper watches Stan slowly set down the dinosaurs, hands now laid on the counter. Mabel still has wide eyes, her nervousness clashing with the glitter stuck to her face. His hands feel sweaty but Stan still hadn’t done anything, that’s better than going straight to mad, right?
“You’re right, kid.”
Stan turns around to face the younger twins and looks like he had been having a war with himself. “We said no more secrets.”
With a certain excitement that was undercut with nerves, Dipper took a seat at the table with shaky hands. Mabel took a seat next to him, giving him an unbelieving smile. He returned it back to her.
Stan remained leaning against the counter, with his arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t have it in me to lie to you two anymore. But…” Stan trails off and looks over their heads. Towards the direction of the gift shop entrance. He clears his throat. “It doesn’t paint your great uncle Ford in the best light. You sure you want to hear it?”
What? What does Ford have to do with it? Mabel voices some of her own predictions, “Did you and Grunkle Ford get matching tattoos? Oh, did he chicken out on getting his? Did he pressure you into getting yours?”
Stan let out a small chuckle that Dipper couldn’t hear any humor in. “No… That’s- “ He shook his head and scratched that back on his head, fingers running over his back on the way back down. “That’s not it. It’s not a tattoo.”
Dipper was about to interject but Stan continued. “It’s a burn.”
A dread seeped into Dipper’s stomach. “What does Great Uncle Ford have to do with it?”
“The fight that had Ford falling into the portal, it-” Stan pauses, and it looks like the words physically hurt coming out. Stan swallows and Dipper can practically see the uncomfortableness slide down his throat. “It got violent. I was laying against one of his machines that had a hot spot exposed. Ford kicked me against it.” Stan was looking away before but looked at them again, attempting to bring back some humor, “Why he had something like that exposed is beyond me, heh.”
“It’s probably a ward or something, Ford still leaves it uncovered,” Dipper says, choosing to address the easier part of what was said. Mabel, however, dives head first into the hard stuff.
“That’s so sad! And it must have hurt really bad, especially to leave a big scar thirty years later.”
Stan shrugs, a familiar sort of smile growing on his face again. “Nah, it wasn’t so bad. I learned a few tricks with my time on the road.”
(Actually, Stan remembers little of that time. Infections and mind-numbing pain changing the better part of two months into a living hell.)
Mabel bounces over and throws her arms around Stan’s waist, but quickly becoming distracted with the plastic dinosaurs. She grabs them with a gasp and runs back to pour them into her concoction. “Just what you need: some Mabel Juice!” She produces a rather large cup of it and shoves it into Stan’s hand.
“Uh, thanks, sweetie.” He eyes the cup and sets it down on the counter. The kitchen falls silent.
God, that tattoo was actually a scar this whole time? Dipper feels terrible. It was given to Stan by his very own twin brother, a reminder every time he looked in the mirror over the thirty years and Dipper had to stick his nose in it…
‘I’m sorry, Grunkle Stan.”
Stan looks at him, a rare emotion of surprise clear on his face. Dipper continues, “For asking about it. It doesn’t seem like a good thing to be reminded about.”
Stan responds with a noogie on Dipper’s head, mussing up his hat and causing his hair to go everywhere. “Don’t worry about it, Dipper.” Dipper fixes his hat with a smile on his face.
“Family movie time!” Mabel suddenly screams, running into the living room, voice trailing behind her, “It is now a requirement!”
Dipper and Stan share a look of worry for the movie she’ll choose, but both have a smile that says they won’t have it any other way.