Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The alley was cold and dark, save for the occasional flicker of a sputtering streetlamp.

Then, a sudden burst of blue light.

“Ooh, ow! Ow! HOT!” Mabel yelped, patting out the small flame that had erupted on the sleeve of her sweater. She had forgotten that the occasional fire was an occupational hazard of time travel.

After a moment of dazed silence she gasped, “The tape measure! Where’d it go?!”

Whipping her head around, she frantically felt around the damp, dark pavement surrounding her, yanking her hand away upon feeling a searing heat brush her fingertips. After giving her eyes a chance to adjust to the dim lighting, she saw the faint afterglow of a hot object a couple feet from her. Gingerly tapping it with a sleeved hand, she determined that it was cool enough to pick up.

“Oh no, this is really bad! When did I get sent back to?”

Rotating the tape measure in her small hands, she inspected to see if there was a record of some sort. Then she remembered the special tick-marks of the tape itself, and attempted to extend it.

Nothing.

“Come on, you stupid piece of time-junk!” she fretted. “Why. Won’t. You. OPEN?”

Then it dawned on her. The fire on her sleeve, the burning temperature of the tape measure. Cold dread pooled in her stomach as she put the pieces together.
The heat from the time travel must have melted the tape in place!
She was stuck here, whenever here was, and it had all been because of a stupid fight…

Stan was in an unusually good mood. For once he’d been able to get some decent sleep the night before; he’d gotten good enough at lying to be able to convince the poor teenage kid working the motel counter that he’d had a reservation. It was a trick that only worked occasionally, but last night he’d managed to pull it off.

And not only that, but on the way out that morning, the kid had been dumb enough to leave the register unattended! A couple of fifty dollar bills in his pocket later, and Stan was outta there.

A small part of him felt a twang of guilt for the theft, but he was finding it difficult to fully register anything but the full stomach he was finally experiencing for the first time in what felt like forever. Yes sir, things were looking up for Stanley Pines, at least for the moment.
It was beginning to get dark though, better start to make his way back to where he’d parked the Stanleymobile.

A stiff wind began to blow, and Stan flipped up his collar against it. Another winter was setting in, and they never seemed to get any easier no matter how much time he spent out on his own. Maybe it was time to start heading south; he’d heard New Mexico was a good place to pass the winter. And a good place to find money, if you knew the right people to talk to…

Preoccupied with these thoughts, he almost didn’t hear the muffled sounds of weeping escaping from the alley ahead. Doing a quick double-take, he backtracked to the narrow inlet between buildings. He stood perfectly still, listening for the noise that had caught his attention.
Sure enough, muted sobs. Dimly illuminated by the sparse lamplight was a child, a small girl in a pink sweater that seemed to almost swallow her whole. She was curled in around herself, and she seemed to be clutching a small object to her chest…

“Uh, hey kid, you alright?” He knelt down a few feet away from her, not wanting to scare or upset her more than she already obviously was. Her whimpers continued. “Aw come on, don’t cry…it can’t be all that bad…”

Sniffling, Mabel took a sharp intake of breath. That voice, she recognized that voice…But could it really be?
She hastily pulled a sleeved hand to her eyes, trying to rub away the tears to get a better look, to confirm if this wild possibility was indeed true…

Seeing the girl wipe the tears from her face, Stan let a tentative smile break across his face. “There ya go. You lost, sweetie?”

“Who…who are you?” the girl sputtered out, “What’s your name?”

Stan hesitated, his mind racing trying to remember which false name he’d made up to use in this state. He opened his mouth to reply, but was caught up by the look of the girl’s eyes. So wide and scared, but with a strange flicker of hope…

“My name’s Stan Pines,” he found himself saying, taken aback. “But, uh, I’d ‘ppreciate it if you didn’t go around spreading that information…”

She continued gazing at him in wonder, occasionally sniffing back against the tears that were still leaking down her face.

“Uh, kid, you okay?” He glanced around at their surroundings. “No offense, but this doesn’t exactly seem like the best place you could be hangin’ ‘round. Where’s your family?”

Fresh tears welled up in her eyes as she was met with this question.”They’re uh, they’re…” she took a heaving breath. “They’re somewhere I just can’t get right now.”

Mabel was gripped by a sharp spasm as the brisk wind suddenly sent a shiver running through her. Her face stung where the cold air came into contact with her tears, and her shivering intensified.

“Whoa there, you look like you could use a coat, kiddo!” Stan said with concern. He shrugged out of the black jacket he was wearing and shuffled closer to her. Taking slow, deliberate movements to ensure she could see what he was doing, he folded his jacket once over his hand and reached it out, arm’s length to her. This kid was obviously not in a good place, and he wanted to let her know that he meant no harm.

She glanced up, first at the folded jacket and then to his face. Her eyes seemed to grow warmer and almost… loving?
She gratefully took the jacket and worked her arms into the long sleeves, pushing them up so that her hands eventually poked through.

“There ya go, that’s better now isn’t it?” Stan said with a gentle smile. He reached out his right hand for a handshake. “Like I said, I’m Stan, what’s your-”
The girl rushed past his extended hand and wrapped her small arms around him the best she could, jacket sleeves flopping against his sides.

“I’m Mabel,” she said, face pressed against his chest, “and thank you so so much, Stan!”

Chapter Text

Stan was somewhat taken aback by this sudden gesture of love. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been genuinely hugged. But here was this small girl, this stranger, clinging on to him like he was the one rock in a stormy sea. Slowly, without really thinking, he let his arms fall to his sides and then around the girl. Feeling the hug returned, she only squeezed tighter.

“Hey, don’t mention it, Mabel,” Stan murmured warmly. “Can’t have you catching your death of cold out here, can we?”

She drew her head back to look at him, affection radiating from her eyes. Stan gave her another smile, and then remembered that this was not a normal situation. This kid couldn’t truly be all alone; she had to have family or something, somewhere around here!

“So, about your family…” he went on, approaching the subject cautiously, “they’re probably missing you hard right about now. What do you say I help you make your way back to ‘em, huh?” He gave her an encouraging pat on the shoulder but it was no use; her head dropped and he saw more tears begin to form at the corners of her eyes.

“It’s like I said before,” she whimpered, “they’re somewhere I can’t get to. At least, not now…” Mabel paused, feeling dizzy with all the thoughts swirling through her head. She couldn’t tell this Stan the whole truth, he wouldn’t believe her! And so she was stuck here, in a time before she was even supposed to be born, and she didn’t know how to get back, and Dipper was mad at her… “I’m not even sure they’d want me back anyway…” she whispered, staring off in a daze.

She looked back up to Stan to find him with his mouth agape. And then, a dark look clouded his face, and his eyes seemed to be looking somewhere a million miles away. Alarmed, Mabel grabbed his hand. “Grunk– I mean, Stan?” she questioned. Giving his head a little shake, he seemed to snap out of it, and whipped his head back to look at her.

“Listen kid,” he huffed, “I know what it’s like to not be wanted by your own family. And whoever is jerk enough to not want you around, well, forget ‘em!”

Mabel felt her heart ache at such a proclamation, and remembered the older Stan, her Grunkle Stan’s, terrible story of being thrown out of his own family. It all made sense now, why he would have such a bitter reaction to her mention of not being wanted. She opened her mouth to say something, but before she could speak, a loud grumble came from her stomach. Stan’s eyes softened as he registered the sound. “Hey kid, how’s about you and me go grab some grub?” he posed.

He rose to his feet and then reached down to help her up as well. She beamed at this, and grabbed hold, not letting go of his hand as they treaded out of the alleyway.

The small diner was bustling with the sounds of the dinner hour. Stan sat across the booth from the kid, who was sitting up on her knees to be able to reach the bendy straw in her milkshake. He was worried about conserving as much of his newfound cash as possible, but when Mabel had looked up at him with those big doe-eyes and asked for the shake along with her food, he’d found it hard to deny her. So, he’d opted to simply not buy anything for himself. He’d survived enough hungry nights, and the last thing he wanted was for this girl to have to start enduring the same thing. The waitress strutted by their booth, and Mabel quickly reached out her hand to stop her.

“Excuse me, but do you have any extra pencils I could borrow?”

The waitress took a look at Mabel’s eager eyes and then to Stan, who just shrugged. She gave a little chuckle.

“Sure, darlin’. I think I have an extra in here somewhere…” Fishing out a half-worn down pencil from her apron, she handed it to Mabel with a wink. “Just make sure to credit me when you write the next great American novel, will you?”

“Thank you!” the girl exclaimed after the waitress as she strutted away.

“Say, Stan,” Mabel said teasingly, glancing back at him. “That waitress was definitely giving you some goo-goo eyes” she sang with a grin. “I can see you two looking cute together!”

Stan gave a little laugh at this. “I don’t know, kid, she seemed a little out of my league. I don’t think she’d wanna hang with a cat like me who lives outta his car…”

He stopped mid-sentence, not wanting to scare Mabel with the details of his loner lifestyle. Time to change the subject.

“So, what did you need the pencil for anyway?”

“Oh, I just really like to draw!” she answered, grabbing a small stack of paper menus from the bundle at the end of the booth and flipping them over. “It helps me take my mind off the scary things and think about fun things instead! Like unicorns!” she exclaimed, quickly scratching out a rudimentary drawing of one and holding it up for him to see.

“Heh, that’s not half-bad!” he gave her, and she beamed at the praise. She went back to scribbling on the paper, and he was left to his thoughts.

He was surprised at how much he liked Mabel, how fond of her he’d grown even after just a couple hours. Heck, he even found himself feeling responsible for her–

He stopped himself right there. How could he act on any sort of feelings of responsibility for this girl? He could barely take care of himself! With a great deal of sadness, he realized that the only good choice here was to take her to some child services office. Even after such a short time, it pained him to think of sending this sweet, loving girl off into the world. Something in his gut fought this notion, telling him, screaming at him that he needed to be around to protect her… But from what, he wondered? He shook it off.

It’s what I’ve gotta do, he thought desolately. She’s better off without me.

The bell on the door handle jangled as they left the diner, Mabel bundled up in Stan’s oversized jacket. They’d walked a few blocks when Stan halted and looked down at her. “Hey, Mabel…” She raised her head to look at him, distressed by the sorrow in his tone.

“What is it, Stan?” She asked with trepidation. He took a deep breath.

“Look kid, the hard truth is that…I’m really not a guy you want to be hangin’ around. I’m really glad I was able to help you out tonight, but I think that there are people who can take care of you better than I can, and that I should take you to ‘em–”

He was cut off as she threw herself at him and hugged desperately to his shins, wailing. “No Stan, please! You have to let me stay with you! I don’t know how I’ll get back on my own!” She started to sob in a panic, turning her last words semi-incoherent. Her watery eyes darted up at him. “You’ve gotta let me stay!”

Jolted by this sudden breakdown, he knelt down to her level and gently pulled her off his legs. He put his hands on her shoulders out in front of him, and saw the sheer terror and helplessness in her eyes. His heart broke at making her feel this way. “Hey, hey there now, calm down,” he said gently, wiping away a tear with this thumb. “You can stay with me tonight, but we’ll hafta figure something out in the morning, okay?”

She hurried in for an embrace, throwing her skinny arms around his neck. “Oh, thank you thank you thank you!” she gave all in one quick breath, still choking back the sudden tears that had engulfed her moments before.

“Sure kid, sure,” he consoled, rubbing her back in small circles. “Just hope you don’t mind sleeping in the backseat of a car is all…”

After waiting a bit for her to recompose herself, they continued on until a familiar red car came into view. Mabel recognized it as the same vehicle she’d seen countless times parked on the side of the Mystery Shack, although this version of it was in slightly better condition. “Uh, just give me a second to clear up some room in the back for ya,” Stan said sheepishly.

A few minutes later, he opened the door to the backseat for Mabel like a mock chauffeur. “In you go, little lady!” She giggled and did a little fake curtsey, scrambling into the familiar- and at the same time not- backseat. Once there, she gave an enormous yawn and snuggled down into the seat, wrapping the jacket around her. The events of the day had really taken their toll on her energy. By the time Stan had gone around to the driver’s seat, the girl was out cold with sleep.

Glancing into the rearview mirror, he saw a folded piece of paper sticking out of his jacket pocket in the back. Reaching for it, he smoothed it out against the steering wheel to better see it. It was one of the menus from the diner, and flipping it over he saw a drawing of a tall man and a small, sweater-clad girl. Scrawled beneath them were the words “Stan the Man and Mabel!”, surrounded by little hearts and stars.

“Aw jeez, Stan,” he sighed to himself, looking back again at the peacefully sleeping girl. “What have you gotten yourself into this time, knucklehead?”

Chapter Text

“Mabel, I can’t believe that you didn’t listen to me when I told you to hit the failsafe button for the portal today,” Dipper muttered with a hard edge to his voice.

Mabel stared back at him, shocked at what she was hearing.

“But it all worked out, and now we have Great Uncle Ford back! You have the Author! Isn’t that what you’ve wanted all summer??”

Her twin turned to face her. “Well yeah, but that’s not the point! You’re my sister, Mabel! We’re supposed to be able to trust each other!”

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this, Dipper!” she cried in a hushed shout, not wanting to betray their fight to anyone downstairs. “I had to help Grunkle Stan! He loves us and I trusted him!”

“But you should’ve trusted ME!”

Dipper swung off his bed, storming around the room and collecting various objects.

“Do you know how much effort I’ve gone to in order to help YOU this summer?” he raged. Holding up a sock puppet, he accused, “I was possessed by a DEMON because I was so busy trying to help you finish up a stupid puppet show!”

Throwing aside the puppet, he held up a broken pool whistle. “I got fired from being a lifeguard because YOU had to help out a stupid crush!”

“Dipper, I–”

“And,” he interrupted, holding up Blendin’s tape measure, “we had to ruin everything I had worked for with Wendy just so you could win a stupid pig!”

A seething silence followed.

“Well, Dipper,” Mabel huffed, taking a step forward, “I’m so SORRY to have ruined your entire summer! Let me just help you get rid of all these terrible reminders!”

Mabel lunged for and snagged the puppet and whistle, throwing open the triangular window and hurling them out of it. Spinning around, she dove for the tape measure.

“I can’t believe you’re mad at me for doing the right thing!” she shouted, trying to wrestle the tape measure from Dipper’s grip.

“Mabel, stop, you’ll break it!” her twin yelped with alarm.

“GOOD! Just like I apparently break everything!”

She snagged it from his grasp and ran to the window to toss it, but just as she was about to she heard a sickening snap.

To her horror, she looked up in time to see the tape reeling back towards her, and suddenly everything was much too bright, and she felt herself falling back, and it was too hot… 

“DIPPER!” she screeched as she flew upright, throwing off a black jacket in the process.

Mabel’s chest was heaving as she struggled to figure out where she was; lights were flashing by through windows and the surface under her seemed to be made of some sort of plastic or leather…

“Mabel! Kid what’s the matter?” came a worried voice from the front seat of the car. Oh, that’s right, Stan…

The events of the past few hours came flooding back to her, and she felt herself start to shake with distress. Sleep had been so nice to her until her dreams began to mirror reality.

“I uh, I…” Mabel’s eyes started to water again, and she hatefully wiped away at them, ashamed that she had cried so much already. She thought at this point she’d be out of tears, but so much had happened and she just couldn’t help it…

“Hey sweetie, don’t worry, I’ll be there in a sec I just have to pull over…”

The car came to a somewhat sudden stop on the side of the highway, and Mabel heard the front seat open and shut. A wave of cold air flooded in with Stan as he got in the backseat, chilling Mabel even more.

She crawled over to Stan and grabbed on tight, trying to bury herself in the warmth of his hug.

“Yeah, you’re okay kid, you’re alright,” he hummed rhythmically. “You must’ve been having some nightmare, you kept sayin’ things in your sleep,” he commented cautiously.

Mabel drew in a gasping breath, worried about what she might have given away with her sleep talking. “What kinds of things was I saying?” she whispered, horrified.

“Just a bunch of gibberish, but it sounded like you were pretty scared. Just stuff like ‘give it to me’, and a lot of ‘oh no’s’, stuff like that…” 

He peered down at her with concern. “Is there any of it you, um, wanna talk about?”

Frankly, Mabel wished she could just forget all of it. She and Dipper had never had a fight like that, and now look where it had gotten her. And all those things he had said about her, they were kind of true! He had sacrificed so much this summer for her, and then she had turned around and not listened to him when it mattered most! Sure, it had saved Ford, but had it ruined things between her and her twin forever?

These racing thoughts made her start to shake again. Feeling this, Stan shifted his weight in order to hold her better.

“Shh, it’s alright sweetie. You don’t hafta talk about anything you don’t want to. I know it can hurt to talk about sometimes…” his voice trailed off, but he started smoothing her hair in even, measured strokes. After a while of this, Mabel was able to regain even breathing.

She sat up, eyes downcast. “I’m sorry I’ve been crying so much, Stan,” she said sorrowfully. “It’s just…I…” she paused, wanting so much to tell him everything, but fear kept her in check.

“It’s just that I’ve been having a really hard time lately. My brother and I had a really really big fight, and I think it was all my fault, and that’s…that’s kind of how I ended up in this whole mess.” She gazed up at him, wondering how he would react to her divulging this information.

Stan just looked…incredibly sad.

“It sounds like you still love your brother though, right?” he said, almost more for himself than for her. “You didn’t really mean to fight with him?”

“Yeah,” she breathed, voice quivering.

“Well…let me tell you something, kid. A while ago, I had a really big fight with my brother, too, and it’s the biggest regret of my life,” he stammered. “But not for one second do I believe that it was because I didn’t love him. It was just…” he sighed. “It was just a bad situation. And I bet that you still love your brother too, and that’s well…that’s what really matters, isn’t it?”

He pulled his gaze away from the window where he’d been staring, and turned it to Mabel, as if waiting for an answer from her. As if waiting for affirmation that his feelings were valid.

She paused, and then nodded vigorously. “You’re right Stan, I think that’s what really matters.”

He gave her a weak smile, and she returned it.

They sat together for a while, watching the occasional car speed by on the dark highway, until a thin ribbon of light started to appear at the horizon.

“Where are we heading, anyway?” Mabel inquired after seeing the dawn.

“Oh, nowhere in particular,” Stan breathed, sitting up and stretching his back until the joints popped. “I just thought I’d head west and see what we come upon, ‘Land of Opportunity’ and all that. Sound good to you?”

She smiled at the opportunity to give input. “Yeah, west is as good a direction as any!” she responded. Just as she finished her sentence, a wide yawn escaped her.

“You’d better try and get a bit more sleep, kiddo,” Stan said, not unkindly. “You’ve had a long day, and who knows what tomorrow will bring, right?”

“Yeah, you’re right,” replied Mabel, yawning again halfway through her answer. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Atta girl,” Stan ruffled her hair with a smile. “I’d better get back behind the wheel then!”

He got out and slid back into the driver’s seat. Before shutting her eyes again, Mabel caught a glimpse of a familiar piece of pink paper wedged onto a the car’s sunshade. It was her drawing from the diner!

She smiled at this as she snuggled down for another round of sleep. Hopefully this time, it would be dreamless.

West, she thought, drifting off. West will be good. 

Chapter Text

Mabel groggily rubbed the sleep from her eyes as the car jumped slightly at a bump in the road. The full daylight outside told her that she had been sleeping for quite awhile; mercifully, this time it had been dreamless.

Catching her movement in the rearview mirror, Stan turned around.

“Mornin’, sleeping beauty! Or afternoon, more accurately…”

“I slept for that long?” Mabel asked with disbelief. Usually she was so full of energy that she’d bounce right up as soon as the sun rose, but given the events of last night, her exhaustion made sense.

“Yeah kid,” Stan replied, picking up on her dismay. “But I really can’t blame ya, you were up at some pretty odd hours last night. I wouldn’t worry about it too much.”

Seeing her smile at this response made Stan’s heart leap. He had to admit, it had been a long time since he’d had to take care of anyone (other than himself) after a nightmare, and Mabel had been pretty darn shaken up. Even after she’d fallen asleep once more, he’d been poised and ready to pull over again in case she had another bad one.

But to his surprise, she’d slept like a rock even after the sun rose, and even through the two stops he’d made to get gas for the car.

His heart sank a bit. They’d driven a long way last night, and the refueling stops had severely depleted his cash supply. And now he had another person to take care of, one that, the more he’d thought about it last night, he couldn’t stand the thought of dropping off at some office and leaving.

It was almost uncanny, the amount of responsibility he felt for Mabel’s wellbeing. It was spooky, but he almost felt like he knew her from somewhere, that they hadn’t only just met a matter of hours ago…

“So where did we end up, anyway?” Mabel interrupted his thoughts, crawling over to the window to get a better look.

“Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas!” Stan said with pizazz, doing a little jazz-hands motion with his non-driving hand.

“Wow! I’ve only heard about this place from movies and stuff!” the girl exclaimed. “Are we gonna get to see any of those dancers with the feather costumes?!”

Stan laughed. “Hah, I hadn’t scheduled it into the itinerary, kid, but who knows? Anything’s possible!”

As Mabel gazed out the window to take in the new city, Stan gripped the wheel a little tighter. There was a reason he’d come to Vegas: quick money. Somewhere along the highway last night, something inside him had made up his mind to stay with Mabel, at least a little while longer. But to do that, he needed more than he had now.

Stan had grown to be a pretty slick card counter these past few years, and he wasn’t too bad at getting dice to do what he wanted, either. He knew that his chances of getting some cash in this city were good; the only thing that made him uneasy was what to do with Mabel while he was off winning it. He couldn’t bring a kid into a casino, it would draw too much attention to him…

They wove their way through the city, Mabel enamored with the afternoon desert sun glittering off the windows of the buildings all around them. Stan even took a detour through the Strip to give the girl a glimpse of all the fancier buildings and fountains, but soon they found themselves in a somewhat shabbier, more non-descript neighborhood.

Pulling the car into a secluded alleyway lot, Stan took a deep breath and turned around. He’d spent all day trying to think up a way around this, but there was just no other option. He’d have to be apart from the kid for a bit if he had any chance of gaining some decent money.

“Mabel?”

She looked up from a doodle she’d been drawing. “What’s up Stan?”

“Okay sweetie, I need you to listen to me very carefully. I hafta run a few errands while we’re in the city, but the thing is that they’re…well, they’re in places that ain’t exactly kid friendly…”

He let the words hang in the air, seeing the  confusion cloud her face. Pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, he sighed.

“This is something I need to go do, but I can’t bring you with me. What I need you to do is promise me you’ll stay here in the car the whole time I’m gone and don’t wander off getting into trouble. I’m not sure how long I’ll be, but I  promise I’ll rush back as soon as I can.”

Mabel saw the concern clearly painted across his face, he was obviously not happy to be giving her these instructions. She gave him a small smile and made a little ‘x’ across her chest with her index finger. “I cross my heart I’ll stay here,” she resolved.

He gave a tight smile in return, and then leaned over to rummage something out of the glove box in the front seat.

“I got some stuff for you to eat at one of the gas stations, figured you’d be a bit hungry whenever you woke up,” Stan threw open the front door, the sounds of rustling wrappers coming from his hand.

A moment later, the passenger seat next to Mabel opened, and Stan crouched down to her eye level outside the car.

“I didn’t know what kind you liked, so I grabbed a couple,” he said sheepishly, reaching out a hand with two candy bars in it. “I know it’s not exactly a three-course dinner, but…”

His apologetic eyes met her warm ones. “Thanks Stan, thanks for taking care of me,” she said softly. “I’m so lucky you found me yesterday!”

Putting the candy aside, she scuttled forward and hugged him hard. Stan enveloped her in a big bear hug, relishing in the love emanating from this sweet girl. He’d gone so long without feeling like anyone truly cared for him or needed him; Mabel was making him realize how sorely he’d been missing all of it.

After a few seconds, they separated and he planted his hands firmly on her shoulders, his eyes taking on a sober glint. “Remember what I told you, stay right here until I get back!”

Unperturbed by the worry in his eyes, Mabel repeated the ‘x’ motion she’d made earlier. “Hey, I promised, didn’t I? I wouldn’t break my promise to you, Stan!” she said cheerfully. “I’ll be right here waiting, just like you said!”

Stan bit his lip anxiously, then took a deep breath. “Well, the sooner I get going, the sooner I’ll be back. You stay safe, okay kid?”

“You bet! I’ll see you soon!”

Mabel scribbled out the finishing touches of her drawing while absentmindedly munching on the second candy bar. Signing her name at the bottom, she held it out in front of her to examine her work.

After seeing how Stan had pinned up her first drawing, she thought it would be nice to make him another one and leave it as a surprise. The scale of this one was much bigger, taking up the whole page rather than just a part like the first one. She’d taken her time and drawn Stan as accurately as she could, and next to him she’d drawn herself holding up the jacket and the candy bars. In big, puffy letters at the bottom she’d written “Thank You Stan, My Hero!” and filled in the background with little stars, hearts, and clouds.

Satisfied, she gave it a last once-over, and gasped when her eyes fell to the corner of the page. She’d signed her full name, Mabel Pines! She quickly reached for the now-stubby pencil and flipped it over, scrubbing out her last name with the hard eraser.

The eraser was old, and instead of making the name disappear, all that it really did was smudge it out.

She sighed, falling back into the seat with defeat. The sun had long crossed over the tops of the surrounding buildings, and the shadows were starting to grow longer. How long had Stan been gone? It was hard to tell without a working clock in the car.

Time. Time seems to really have it out for me, Mabel thought forlornly. She turned to where Stan’s jacket lay balled up on the floor and dug through the pockets until she found where she’d stashed the broken tape measure. In this light, she could see the scorch marks along the sides and the place where the edge of the tape had melted in place.

Blowing a wisp of fallen hair out of her face, she bent down to wrap the device carefully back up in the jacket. When she sat up, she heard distant voices.

She peered up through the back windshield, trying to get a better look. Two men were ambling past the entrance to the lot, snickering and making sweeping gestures with their hands. The shorter one turned his head toward the car and stopped in his tracks, throwing out his hand to stop his friend as well.

Mabel ducked down quick, hoping they hadn’t caught a glimpse of her. Through the cracked windows she was able to hear their dialogue,

“Eh Lenny, is that an El Diablo my eyes are seein’ right now?” came a coarse voice.

“Yeah, you’re right!” responded a higher-pitched, snaky voice. “And someone left it here, all by its lonesome…”

The sound of their footsteps echoed as they made their way closer. Mabel crouched down lower, trying to quiet her quick breathing. Stan had told her to stay in the car, but what if these guys saw her?

“You know what the parts of this thing are probably worth?” The coarse voice questioned, terrifyingly close. “And this one looks like it’s in great condition too! You didn’t see anyone around out there lookin’ like they was comming back to this place anytime soon, huh?”

“I saw nothin of the sort,” the snaky voice came again, with a sinister edge. “I’m thinkin’, it’s time we put those hotwiring skills of yours to the test and see what Jimmy will offer us for it…”

They were going to break into the car!

Oh Stan, where are you?? Mabel thought frantically. Seeing their shadows fall over the seat, she made a snap decision: she needed to get out of there.

In one swift motion, her hand darted down and scooped up the jacket, and then found the door handle. Sounds of surprise came from the two men as Mabel burst out of the car, clutching the jacket to her.

“Hey!” the short one shouted, but the tall one was quick on his feet. “Not so fast there, darlin’!” he clamored as his bony hand closed around her shoulder. 

“Let…me…go!” mabel cried out as she struggled against his grip, but it was too late, he was too strong! The balled up jacket fell to the ground as both her arms were pinned painfully behind her.

“Well, whadya know, Al?” the tall man huffed, smiling his slimy smile. “Looks like we get a little door prize for being the first ones here!”

Stan’s feet hit the pavement at a brisker pace than was typical for him, a strange mixture of satisfaction and eagerness bubbling within him. His luck with the cards had been good today, helped out a bit by his particular skills, of course. He’d been nervous that his worry for Mabel would throw off his game, but he’d managed to pocket a few hundred dollars, more than he’d dared to hope for.

Anxiety nipped at him as he noticed how long his shadow was getting, and he lengthened his stride.

A small feeling of relief filled him as he approached the entrance to the secluded lot, but it quickly evaporated when he heard the voices from around the corner.

His eyes grew wide at the sight that met him around the turn: a short man working under the popped hood of the Diablo. Horrified, Stan whipped his head around, searching desperately for Mabel. He found her by the far end of the lot, and his stomach dropped when he saw that she was being held in place by a tall, ruthless man.

Her terrified eyes widened as she saw him. “Stan!” she yelped, “Stan help-”

Her cries turned into a whimper of pain as the tall man harshly yanked her arm. “Quiet, girl!” he hissed.

Stan stalked his way across the lot, locking eyes with the tall man. “You leave her out of this, she hasn’t done anything!” he called out, his voice taking a hard edge.

“Oh, I don’t know…”the tall man grinned menacingly, “I’m sure she could prove a useful commodity, don’t you think?” His eyes flashed evilly up at Stan’s.

Stan paused, now a couple yards from the two. He dropped his eyes to Mabel’s pleading ones for a split second, and then lunged.

The tall man cried out in surprise, releasing Mabel’s arms and throwing his own up in front of his face to block the incoming blow from Stan’s fist.

Mabel dropped to the ground. Looking back up at the commotion, she saw Stan’s head swivel in her direction.

“Mabel! Run! Get outta here!” he bellowed, and then turned back to face his opponent.

Mabel scampered away, the sounds of fists hitting flesh filling her ears. She spotted the jacket out of the corner of her eye, and snatched it up, continuing forward. Diving behind a cluster of trashcans, she peaked out through the gaps to register what was happening.

The tall man had gone down quickly, knocked out and bloody from a blow to the head. But now the shorter man was rushing in, and he had murder in his eyes.

“Come and get it, you sick bastard!” thundered Stan, assuming a fighter’s stance. Stan ducked out of the way of the shorter man’s first punch, throwing himself forward again with the momentum of a strong left hook. He made contact with the man’s gut, and his opponent stumbled back a few steps.

Heaving, the shorter man glared up. “So you wanna real fight, huh?” his coarse voice spat, and a gleam of dull silver appeared at his hand. The man dove forward, blade first. Stan cried out as the sharp edge made contact with this forearm, and then his own fisted hand soared up to catch the man right under the jaw. Dazed, the short man staggered, leaving himself open for one final attack…

There was a sickening thud as Stan’s fist, dripping with blood from the wound on his left arm, slammed into the man’s temple. The opponent’s eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped to the ground, chest rising and falling shakily.

Stan stood in the now-dying light of evening, breathing hard and taking in the beaten adversaries. He’d been so filled with rage during the fight, so fueled by adrenaline, that it hadn’t mattered that he’d barely eaten or slept in the past 24 hours. But now his body was catching up with him, and he turned wearily around, searching with frenzied eyes.

“Mabel,” he croaked out, voice scratchy.

She emerged from her hiding place and bolted to him, ignoring the protests from her scraped knees and sore shoulders. “Stan! Stan I’m so sorry, they came to the car and I didn’t know what to do and-”

He sank down, reaching out for her with his right arm and curling her in close. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you now sweetie…” he whispered, cupping the back of her head in his hand. Pulling back to look at her, he questioned rapidly, “are you hurt? Did they hurt you?”

She was alarmed by the intensity of his eyes as he asked her, by the look of hatred that burned there as he spoke of the two men.

“I’m okay,” she shakily responded, tears streaming down her face. “But your arm! That guy pulled a knife on you!” she fretted. He held it up to examine.

“Hey kid, don’t worry about me, I’ve had worse,” he said, peering close at the gash on his forearm. “See, it’s stopped bleeding already. I’ll be fine!” he breathed, meeting her eyes reassuringly.

She just stood there for a moment looking at the wound, and then fell forward against him again. “Oh Stan, I was so worried,” she sobbed.

The two of them sat like that, the man holding the young girl, catching her tears on his shirt as a few of his own fell silently down his face. Stan lifted her up with him as he stood, turning back to the car.

“Come on, kid,” he sighed. “Let’s get outta here.”

Chapter Text

Mabel hugged her legs close to her chest as she settled into the front seat of the car, still somewhat in shock about everything that had just happened.

A quick thud came from Stan slamming the hood of the Diablo back into place, and then he was back behind the wheel. Flicking the headlights on, he sped out of the lot, away from the events that had taken place there.

He drove silently for a few minutes, his mind flipping back and forth between sheer exhaustion and a simmering, lingering fury at the two thugs he’d left knocked out in the lot.

Thank God I got there when I did, his thoughts echoed, or else…

He shuddered at the notion, and his veins felt icy at the terrible possibilities of what could have happened. At the anguish he would have faced coming back to a lot empty of his car, and Mabel nowhere to be found…

He glanced over at the girl to his right; she was curled in on herself and staring straight ahead with a hollow look in her eyes. Stan’s brow furrowed as he realized her knees were scraped up.

“Hey kid,” he said gently, “your knees okay?”

Mabel looked down at them and gulped. “They uh, I was trying to run but I tripped when he grabbed me…” her voice quavered at the end.

Stan broke in. “Shh, it’s okay sweetie, you don’t need to talk about it.”

She nodded at him and then hugged herself tighter, lacing her hands over her knees to cover them up.

On they drove until the buildings started to become sparser and they reached the outskirts of town. A flickering neon sign caught his attention, and he steered toward the parking lot under it.

Feeling the car shudder to a stop, Mabel looked up at the building they were parked in front of. “Silver State Drug, Open 24 Hours” read the faded sign over the door.

Stan clicked the key out of the ignition. “We’re both a little banged up, I think it might be a good idea to maybe get some bandages,” he said, not meeting her eyes. Wordlessly, he stepped out of the car, and the girl hastily followed suit.

As soon as she was out of the car, Mabel sped over to Stan’s side. His heart ached as he realized how shaken up she was, as he saw how quickly she raced to be at his side. He offered his hand out for her to take, and she latched on with a small smile.

They moseyed around through the aisles, grabbing various items such as gauze, antiseptic, and small band aids. Passing the coolers, Stan fleetingly ruminated on how easy it would be to just buy a few beers and forget everything for a while, but the warm hand clasping onto his made him instantly shake away the thought, ashamed.

They made their way through the food aisle on the way to the register. Stan grabbed a loaf of bread and then reached for a jar on the nearby shelf. Stopping suddenly, he glanced down at Mabel. “You’re not allergic to peanuts or anything, are ya?” he asked. She gave him a little grin, taking comfort in his concern for her. “No, I love peanut butter,” she affirmed, and he nodded, adding it to the basket.

Reaching the register, Stan dropped the basket on the counter and fished a crumpled $20 bill from his pocket. The wizened old woman working the register rang up their final item and tossed it unceremoniously into a paper bag. “Anything else for ya, dolls?” her gravelly voice croaked out.

“Er, yea…” Stan said, eyes scanning the shelf behind her. “A pack of those smokes right in front there.”

Mabel’s head flew up to look at him and she gasped. “You can’t smoke cigarettes! They’ll kill you!” she protested.

“Psh, I don’t think this one pack’ll hurt, kid.”

“Yes they will! They’ll rot your lungs!” she exclaimed sternly. Standing on tip-toe to look over the counter, she instructed the woman, “He will definitely NOT be taking those, ma’am.”

The old woman stared for a moment and then cackled. “Heh, sorry sonny, looks like I can’t sell ‘em to ya!”

Stan rolled his eyes and handed over the money. “Well, you can say you did your good deed for the day or whatever,” he said to Mabel as he received his change, his warm eyes betraying the faux-annoyed twist of his mouth.

Leaving the drug store, Stan spied another dimly lit sign down the road. “Cactus Flower Motel” it read, with a flickering “vacancy” sign directly beneath it.

Despite all of the terrible things that had happened today, Stan was glad he’d been able to rack up some decent money in the process. “Come on kid, we’re livin’ large tonight!” he proclaimed as they hopped back in the car.

The motel room was by no means a glitzy one, but it had clean beds and a bathroom with a working shower, so things were looking up.

It was nearly 11:00 pm by the time they’d both managed to clean themselves up and finish a couple peanut butter sandwiches, and Stan was beginning to really feel the old aches of fighting. Mabel had winced as he’d cleaned the gash on his arm; it was long but luckily not too deep. It would probably leave a faint scar. Mabel had tried to make the situation better by using the free motel pen to draw a heart on the gauze wrapped around the wound, and he had thanked her heartily for her contribution.

Stan had tried to keep his face from revealing his anger as he helped the girl apply band aids to her knees, wishing he’d knocked a couple more of the thugs’ teeth loose before leaving.

The room had two beds on either side of a small table. After double checking at Mabel’s insistence that the door and window were securely locked, Stan walked over to where the girl was sitting on the edge of one bed and sat down next to her. “Well, I don’t know about you kid, but I’m beat,” he sighed, resting his hand on her back. “Checkout’s not til noon tomorrow, so you make sure to get lot of sleep, okay?”

She nodded. “You too, Stan,” she returned. He smiled and gave her back a pat. He stood up and threw back the sheets of the other bed, flopping down into it after flicking off the lamp.

“Goodnight, Stan,” Mabel whispered.

“Sleep tight, kid,” Stan yawned back.

Stan’s light snores had begun moments after the light had been turned off, but Mabel continued to lay awake long after. She was so tired, every nerve begging for rest, but every time she danced on the edge of sleep she’d feel the man’s long fingers clawing for her again, or feel the dull ache of her shoulder blades where her arms had been pinned.

She tossed and turned with the nameless anxiety that all insomniacs suffer, with dozens of half-thoughts making their way through her mind and shadows taking sinister shapes against the walls. Eventually she gave up on lying down and decided instead to sit up against the headboard, pulling the covers up around her.

It was too dark to see the wall clock, and so Mabel didn’t know how many hours had passed when Stan abruptly sat bolt upright, breathing hard.

“NO!” he heaved desperately.

He swiveled his head wildly back and forth for a moment, and then flung his hand over to the lamp. The light flooded over Mabel, who blinked rapidly a few times and then stared with concern at Stan.

He gaped at her for a long moment, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Then, as if struck with the realization of how he must look, he hunched back over. His hands rose to the lower half of his face, scrubbing at the shadow of a beard as he stared forward.

“Geez kid, I’m sorry about that,” he spoke after a short while. “I guess I just… I thought they got you and…”

His sorrowful eyes slowly wandered over to meet hers. He saw with dismay the purple bruise-like shadows that were beginning to blossom under her eyes, and for the first time registered that she had already been sitting up, not lying down asleep.

“Looks like neither of us is having luck getting sleep tonight, huh?” he spoke wearily. She gave him the smallest of nods in return, her eyes tormented by unknown thoughts.

“Hey Stan?” she whispered weakly, “Would it be okay if I slept in your bed?”

A lump rose in his throat, and, fighting it, he gave a few short little nods and beckoned her over with a wave of his hand.

She quickly snagged her pillow and scrambled up onto the opposite bed as he moved over to make room for her. Snuggling down into the warm space left by Stan, she started to feel more at ease than she had all night. Sleep began to descend heavy on her eyelids.

“Thank you,” she whispered, letting her eyes fall closed as sleep finally engulfed her.

“You’re welcome sweetie,” Stan murmured tenderly.

He cut the lights and tried to hug his edge of the bed as closely as possible, to give the girl a good amount of room, but she quickly rolled over until her back was pressed against his. He felt the corners of his mouth lift slightly upwards; his brother had used to sleep the same way when he came into Stan’s bed after a nightmare.

He sighed with exhaustion. His dream, the one that had sent him bolt upright, had been so realistic it frightened him to think about even now. Usually his nightmares were hazy flashbacks of hurt, echoes of past pains. But this one had been more terrifying, because now he had someone to protect again. And, as nightmares often do, this one cut to the core of his newest, most visceral fear: failing to protect the one who needed it most.

He turned these thoughts over in his mind, eventually falling into an uneasy sleep with the sounds of Mabel’s even breathing.

Mabel awoke the next morning to small slits of light dancing on the walls from where the sun broke through the blinds. The skin under her eyes still felt tight with tiredness, but otherwise she was feeling much more refreshed than she’d anticipated she would.

Turning her head, she was momentarily panicked to see that Stan’s space was empty, but then she heard the sounds of teeth-brushing coming form the bathroom and sighed with relief.

Oh Mabel, what are you going to do? After witnessing Stan’s distress last night, she’d begun to understand just how much strain taking care of her must be putting on him. And as thankful as she was to him for taking her under his wing, there was a dull ache in her chest where she longed to see her family and home again. She missed Dipper, even if he did hate her now. And she missed Wendy and Waddles and Soos, and she’d only just gotten to meet Great Uncle Ford…

It was almost a tangible click that occurred in her head, of an idea taking form. Of course! Ford had told his story that night he came back too! Sitting up quickly, she struggled to remember the details that Great Uncle Ford had told them.

Let’s see, he was in school and then he went to Gravity Falls to do research...but when had that been? Where would Ford be in this time that she was stuck in?

Ford, the genius who’d built the portal and written the journals. How had she not thought of it before! Surely Ford could figure out a way to fix the tape measure and get her home!

Her heart sped with excitement at this possibility, at this one hope of returning home, but then trepidation creeped in. But Ford and Stan are fighting right now, she remembered. And it means I’ll have to tell Stan my whole story…

Her mind worriedly flashed with images of Stan refusing to believe her, of him refusing to help…

Well, Mabel thought, taking a shaky breath, I’ve got to try.

A clean-shaven Stan emerged from the bathroom a few minutes after Mabel’s revelation.

“Oh good, you’re up!” he exclaimed, seeing her sitting on the edge of the bed. “That’s good, I thought I was going to hafta wake you, it’s almost 11:45…”

She smiled but her eyes were worried.

“Yeah I’d better start to gather our stuff up so we can leave,” she said in a hurry, trying to think of how she was going to approach her reveal to Stan.

Before he could say anything, she started throwing their things into the paper bag, and tied her (now somewhat dirty) pink sweater around her waist. She raced to pull on her little black shoes, and then stood by the door.

“Okay Stan, ready when you are!” she nervously huffed with her recent effort. Stan gave her a brief confused look and then shrugged.

“I would say hold your horses, but we really do need to get going,” he said as he picked up their meager belongings and headed out the door.

They checked out just before noon, and then headed back to the car. With the city in the far distance, Stan revved up the car and started toward the highway.

“So it looks like Vegas was not the best,” he commented with forced lightness. “Where should we move on to?”

Mabel paused. This was her chance, and she knew she needed to spill sooner or later.

“Stan, could you pull over? There’s something I really need to tell you…”

Eyes laughing, he continued to look ahead at the road. “Aw come on Mabel, I don’t need to pull over to hear what you’ve gotta say! Just spit it out!” he said brightly.

“No I think…it might come as a shock…” she fumbled with her words, frustrated that he continued to drive. “My whole name, it’s Mabel Pines!” she blurted out.

She swung to the side a bit as the car swerved, Stan having swung his head over to look at her. In stunned silence, he pulled over to the shoulder of the highway.

“Pines?” he croaked out. “As in we’re related??”

She took a deep breath. “Okay, I need you to just listen to me for a minute. It’s going to sound crazy, but I need you to believe me!” she cried, eyes shining with desperation.

To her relief, Stan sat back. “Okay sweetie, I’m listening.”

“So…my name is Mabel Pines. And you’re Stanley Pines, my…my great uncle. I’m from the future,” she let out, watching him closely for a reaction. To his credit, he didn’t flinch or scoff, but his eyes did widen a bit.

She bent over to fish out the tape measure from its hiding place in the jacket on the floor. Holding it out to him, she explained,

“I know this just looks like a weird tape measure, but really it’s a time travel machine. You pull the tape and then it’ll zap you through time! There was an accident that made me pull the tape, and it got broken and melted, so I don’t have a way to get back! But I know that Ford is really really smart, and so maybe he-”

“Hold up,” Stan interrupted, holding up a hand. “You…you know about Ford?”

“Well yea, he’s my great uncle too!” she exclaimed, and then hesitated. The portal incident was definitely something she didn’t want to talk about with this Stan, especially once she realized that it hadn’t even happened yet!

“What do you know about my brother?” Stan said slowly, closing his eyes.

Mabel gulped, knowing she was going to have to bring up some old hurts. “I know that you were best friends, and then his science machine got broken and he couldn’t go to some fancy school…” she treaded lightly, and saw Stan wince. “And I also know that he’s supposed to be super smart, and so I thought that maybe…he could fix the tape measure to help me get back.”

Stan remained with his eyes tensely closed for a moment, and then they flew open and he leaned forward. “Ford didn’t make this, did he?” he almost growled, pointing at the tape measure. “It’s not his fault that all this happened to you, is it? Not because of one of his dangerous nerd inventions?”

“No no, not at all!” she yelped, taken aback.

Stan sat back and turned to stare at the open road in front of him, his thoughts racing a million miles per second. So the only way to really help Mabel was to get her home, and she thought that his brother could do it…

His heart felt heavy. He’d been trying his absolute best to take care of Mabel these past couple days, but look what happened. His actions had probably inflicted more trauma than he cared to think about, and he had no way to help her fix the small device she said was a time machine. With disgust, one clear thought rang out against the rest:

Looks like you’re failing again, Pines. Looks like your brother is going to have to swoop in and save the day, to pick up your broken pieces.

He turned and saw Mabel’s wide eyes shining with worry.

“You’re not going to leave me behind or anything, right?” she pleaded softly, eyes brimming.

Stan was shocked. “What? No Mabel, I would never! Why would you even think-”

“Because I know that you and Ford are fighting, and I thought…” she swallowed, “I thought that maybe you’d be mad at me for bringing it up, and then you’d be so mad that you wouldn’t want to see me anymore…” Here her voice broke, and his eyes softened.

“Listen Mabel,” he said, reaching out to rest his hand on her shoulder. “yes, my brother and I haven’t had the best time of it in the past few years, but don’t think for one minute that I would ever abandon you like that. Especially since…well, we’re family now, right?” He surprised himself with this statement, as all the pieces fell into place. There was suddenly an explanation behind why he’d been so drawn to help this girl, to take care of her. “And family doesn’t leave family behind.” He gave her shoulder a little squeeze with this last statement, and relief flooded her face as she heard his words.

“So you’ll help me get home, even though it means talking to Ford?” she asked, happy tears streaming down her face.

“Of course kid. Of course. Next phone we come across, I’ll be sure to do my best to drop him a line. Though it’s going to be hard explainin’ all this…” he mumbled, gazing off into the distance.

“If it helps, I think he’s in Oregon right now,” Mabel said hesitantly, revealing another small part of her future information.

Stan stared down at her, and then gave a weak smile. “Well, looks like you’d better put that coat back on then, because it’s bound to be pretty cold up in Oregon this time o’ year.”

She beamed at him, and he slowly pulled the car back onto the highway.

Okay, Stan resolved nervously, time to see your brother again.

Chapter Text

It was very late at night, or rather very early in the morning, when Stanford Pines was jolted from sleep by the nagging of his telephone. 

He lifted his weary head from the kitchen table where he’d been going over some notes, running a hand through his somewhat disheveled hair.

Noting the time, he jogged his way into the living room to answer the call. Who could it be at this late hour?

“Hello, Stanford Pines speaking!” he answered with forced alertness.

Strangely, there was nothing on the other end, save perhaps a faint whispering sound. The wind blowing, maybe?

“Hello?” he asked, confused, but as soon as he had finished the word, his dial tone sounded.

“Hmph.” He dropped the phone back into its holder, and then hastily picked it back up and punched in a number with the speed of a someone who’d dialed it many times before.

It rang a few times and then a groggy voice answered. “Mm Hello?”

“Fiddleford! It’s Stanford. You…you didn’t try and call just now, did you?”

A small silence followed.

“Stanford, it’s 1:00 in the morning,” responded a voice with a slight Southern accent and thinly veiled annoyance. “I most definitely did not just call you.”

Ford coughed, embarrassed. “Oh, well…sorry to wake you then.”

“ ‘S fine,” yawned the voice on the other end of the line. “Just do yourself a favor and try to get more than your usual four hours of sleep tonight, okay Stanford?”

Ford gave a tired laugh. “Yeah I’ll do my best. Thanks, pal.”

Returning the phone, Ford ambled back toward the kitchen table, drawing his trench coat tighter around him. A thin blanket of frost had begun to cover the ground outside, making everything shimmer eerily silver in the moonlight.

The young scientist reached the table and gathered up the stacks of paper he’d been perusing before dozing off. Grabbing the pen from behind his ear, he quickly jotted down a couple of corrections to the figures scrawled on them. “That’s right, yes,” he mumbled to himself, scratching out the end of a formula and adding new figures below it. “Yes, y multiplied by infinity, of course…”

Satisfied with his corrections, he carried his work back to the disheveled mess that was his room and shuffled them into a file cabinet near the door.

Ford dragged his tired feet over to the bed and flopped into it, kicking off his boots carelessly as he reached to turn off the light. Mind sleepily whirring with the day’s work, he drifted off to sleep, pausing only to wonder at who had ultimately been at the quiet end of tonight’s mysterious phone call…

Miles away, it was dark and chilly in the small town of Tuttle, Nevada, and Stanley Pines stood shivering near a lone pay phone. He’d have liked to blame the shivers entirely on the cold night air, but even he wasn’t a big enough liar to pull that one off.

Mabel had fallen asleep hours ago, just as Stan had insisted he ‘knew a short cut’ through the desert. Really he had just wanted to get off the main highway, and maybe put a few more hours between himself and Oregon. He closed his eyes as he recalled the day’s travel with the kid…

They’d still had plenty of bread and peanut butter leftover from the previous night, so stopping for food was no issue. However they were low in the water department, and had incidentally needed gas as well before too long.

Working at the counter of the gas station had been another little old lady, much nicer and less wizened than the one they’d encountered in Vegas. Her old husband had been stocking the shelves, and while Stan went to inquire about supplies, Mabel had formed a quick friendship with the woman. It had all started because of the colorful bundle of yarn and needles in the lady’s lap when they’d walked in.

Mabel’s face had lit up at the sight. “Ohmygosh, are you knitting? That yarn is so pretty and soft-looking, like a kitten’s dreams!”

The old lady had giggled. “That’s right, dear. Do you know how to knit?”

Stan had only heard snippets of their conversation, something about the merits of the stockinet stich verses the purl stitch, but ultimately Mabel had ended up leaving the store with spare pair of the woman’s knitting needles and three extra balls of yarn, “for Mabel to practice her stitches”.

All throughout the day after their stop, the hours had passed with the seemingly endless desert ahead of them and the clinking of knitting needles from the front seat to fill in as background noise.

Here and there, Stan had dared to ask the girl a few questions, to try and better understand her situation without freaking her out too much.

“So…you said you have a brother? I guess that means I have a…what, a great nephew then too?”

“Oh yeah, my brother Dipper…” she’d looked sad at first, but then brightened a bit. “You know, he’s my twin brother! Like how you and Great Uncle Ford are twins!”

“Huh,” he’d mumbled back, trying to wrap his head around the whole thing. It was beyond strange to hear of himself or his brother referred to as anyone’s great uncle, considering they weren’t yet thirty years old.

They’d both fallen quiet then, lost in their own thoughts.

Stan had attempted to lighten it up after that.

“So, obviously in the future I’m like, some hot-shot salesman, of course!” He’d boasted with a joking tone of superiority. Lightly jabbing his elbow at Mabel next to him, he’d continued to jest. “Right? Riiight?”

She’d giggled, but then become hesitant.

I don’t want to tell him too much, she’d thought, a crawling concern creeping into her stomach as she remembered her own Stan’s story of working away for 30 years on the portal. But I also don’t want to lie!

Thinking on her feet, she’d answered, “Oh yeah, I’ve definitely seen you drive a hard bargain before!” That part at least was true; she’d seen many a time when her great uncle had convinced a customer to buy twice the amount of merchandise that they’d intended to.

Stan gave a nervous laugh, seeing that the kid was obviously not enjoying his questions about the future. He had decided he’d better drop it.

“Who knew you could knit, kid!” he’d brought the conversation back around to the present, gesturing toward the heap of yarn in Mabel’s lap.

At this, she brightened. “Yeah, I love to knit! I make all my own sweaters! I’m actually making a new one right now, because this one’s gotten kinda gross…”

“Well, it’s lookin’ good kid. You should go into business! ‘Sweaters by Mabel’! Folks love handmade stuff, and you can drive a high price by sellin’ ‘em yourself! No one would be able to turn you down, especially not if you turn on the puppy dog eyes!”

At this, Mabel had started beaming. “Haha, and you can be my business agent, the one who drives all the tough deals and negotiation and stuff!”

They’d joked and laughed for a while, planning out all the details of this hypothetical business, everything from business cards to a series of commercials. Stan had even claimed to ‘know a guy, Bobby’ who could get them hooked up with some good commercial airtime.

After the last sliver of desert sun had sunk beneath the horizon, Mabel had started to drift into sleep, using the ¾ of her unfinished new sweater as a pillow.

They’d come upon the small town of Tuttle some time later, and Stan had finally pulled over behind some desolate strip mall. He’d gently lifted Mabel out of the front passenger seat and shifted her to the more spacious back seat, where she’d be able to sleep better.

Standing outside the car after doing this, he’d spied the payphone under a buzzing streetlamp, and his veins had filled with ice.

All day, he’d been silently steeling himself for the possibility that Mabel would ask when he was going to call his brother, but mercifully the question had never come. However, it had sure been on his mind all day; he’d lost count of the number of times he’d constructed the conversation with Ford in his head, testing out the various directions in which the talk could go. And frankly, it scared him. He hadn’t talked to his brother in, what, it had to be just about ten years now.

Though he hadn’t told Mabel, he’d actually known that Ford was somewhere in Oregon, in some small town, Gravity… Something. A few months ago, in one of his bursts of courage, he’d called up Ford’s university to try and get ahold of him, and was passed along and along until some guy on the other end informed him of Ford’s research grant, and gave a number where he could be reached. Stan had balked after that, never completing a phone call, always chickening out before he could punch the final digit of the phone number.

Stan had stood in silence, staring down the pay phone as if it were an actual person, some sentient adversary. I’ve gotta do it, he thought, locking his jaw. The kid needs it, Stan.

He’d peered through the window to make sure Mabel was sleeping soundly, and then had trekked his way over to the phone. Slipping a few coins into the slot, he’d slowly punched in a number that he’d come to memorize, and then waited.

“Hello, Stanford Pines speaking!”

Stan had felt his jaw drop, but no words came out. He had been flooded with all the things he wanted to say, all the apologies and stories and affirmations, but none of them had been able to escape. Just his breathless silence.

“Hello?” Ford’s voice had come through again, but Stan had slammed the phone back, choking on unsaid words.

And here he was now.

Leaning his back against the payphone, Stan slid down until he was slumped firmly on the ground, head in his hands. He began to shake slightly, completely ashamed at how he had let both himself and Mabel down. Even after all this time, he couldn’t open his mouth to say anything to his brother.

He sat there like that for a handful of minutes, and then decided that he wasn’t helping anyone by pathetically hanging around the phone. Picking himself up, he dragged himself back to the car and reclined the front seat as far back as it would go. As he was doing this, he spied a fallen piece of pink paper on the floor of the car and reached for it.

It was another one of Mabel’s drawings, and this one filled up the whole paper. “Thank You Stan, My Hero” jumped off the page in huge letters. There was a smudge at the bottom of the page after where Mabel had written her name, and, straining to read it, Stan realized that it faintly resembled the word “Pines”.

Staring at this drawing, he was filled with newfound determination. Tomorrow morning, Ford’s getting a call from me whether he likes it or not, Stan resolved. Putting the drawing in the glove box for safe keeping, he settled down for sleep. Tomorrow was going to be a big day.

______________________________________________________________

Ford was already wide awake this time when the phone rang at 7:30 am. He rushed to answer it, determined to not miss whoever it was this time.

“Stanford Pines!” he answered cheerily.

A brief pause, and then,

“Hi Ford, it’s Stan.”

“Stanley?” Ford replied, dumbfounded and at a loss for more words.

“Yeah, it’s me,” his brother responded, a hint of emotion creeping into his voice. “How ya doin’, Sixer?”

“I…I…good!” Ford stammered, registering the question. “Just…I’m just caught up in a lot of research at the moment, but good.”

“It’s, well it’s good to hear that you’re good,” Stan’s words awkwardly tumbled out.

A long pause followed, interrupted by a recorded voice requesting more money if the call was to continue.

“Look Ford, I don’t have a lot of time left on this phone, but I called to tell ya that I…I really need your help with something and was wondering if I can come visit?”

Ford’s mind suddenly flashed to the blueprints of his latest work, of the large steel bones of the triangular structure in the basement. And then, to the smaller steel arms of another project, from ten years ago, arms that had stopped moving as they were supposed to because of his brother…

“Stan…” Ford drew in a breath. “Stan I understand that we haven’t been on good terms for a while, and I really am glad to hear from you again. But I’m on the verge of something big here, and…” without even thinking, Ford let it slip. “And I can’t risk the chance that something bad might happen to it.”

Ford could hear how hurtful his words were upon speaking them, how stinging they were, but he found himself unable to follow them up. They were, after all, what he felt to be the harsh truth.

“So you won’t help your own brother because of something that happened ten years ago,” Stan suddenly hissed from the other end of the line.

“I’m sorry Stanley, it’s just what needs to happen right now!” Ford barked back, matching anger with anger. “I need to focus on my work!”

The recorded voice beeped a final warning.

“Fine Ford, have it your way, put your dumb pride over your own family!” his brother spat, and then the line went silent.

Ford stared at the phone in his hand for a second, and then slammed it down. His first reaction upon hearing his brother’s voice had been a happy one; a part of him often felt empty without the presence of his twin, and he had often wondered where he might be in the world.

But this latest project, the one that would answer all of his questions and more…he shook his head, as if trying to physically clear himself of the jarring emotions of the phone conversation. This project was the culmination of his life’s work; he couldn’t risk Stan messing things up for him again. It stung to think about, but to Ford this was the way things had to be.

Trying to clear his mind, he made his way down to his private study and placed himself in front of the desk, closing his eyes. “Alright,” he said, seemingly to himself, “let’s get on with today’s work.”

When the scientist’s eyes opened again, a glowing yellow gaze shone through.

Chapter Text

Stanley Pines stood with his back to the car, his hand still resting on the pay phone.

He’d woken up this morning with resolve still burning within him, and had made his way briskly to the phone again before the feeling had a chance to die out, taking care not to wake the still-sleeping Mabel in the process.

And then…and then his brother had flat-out refused him.

Now he couldn’t even assign a single word to how he felt. A cocktail of emotions swirled inside him: shock, anger, despair… And what was he going to tell Mabel?

He took a moment to steady himself before dejectedly trudging his way back to the car. To his surprise, the girl’s head popped up in the back window as he was making his return. He saw her eyes dart between himself and the payphone behind him.

He made his way around to the driver’s seat and got in, bracing himself for Mabel’s inquiries.

“Were you…did you just call Ford?” she blurted nervously.

Stan took a deep breath. “Yeah kid, I did.”

She gave him a few seconds to continue, and then felt her heart skip a beat when he didn’t.

“Is…is everything okay? Are we still going to Gravity Falls?”

Huh, so that’s what that town was called, Stan thought bleakly.

He slowly turned around to face her, fortifying himself to deliver the bad news, and was met with Mabel’s petrified expression. She was holding her breath, he realized, literally on the edge of her seat with fear…

You know what? Screw Ford.

“Yeah Mabel, we’re still going. Don’t you worry, we’re gonna get help, sweetie.”

Mabel let out a shuddering breath that she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding. Seeing Stan trudge away from that phone, and then having him hesitate to tell her the news…it had scared her deeply. But it’s okay, she thought, we’re still going to Oregon.

“So Ford said we could come?” she let herself brighten, assured by Stan’s confirmation that they were still on their way.

He gave a small cough, and dodged her gaze. “Ford knows that his brother called needing help, so we’re goin’.” he muttered harshly.

Before he could fully register the confused look Mabel was giving him, he swung back around, turning the key in the ignition and creeping the car out from the lot. The early sun shone in his face as he pulled onto the main road, and he flipped down the car shade to shield himself from its glare.

Mabel’s first drawing fluttered down into his lap, and he almost winced.

“Hey kid, why don’t you come keep me company up here in the front seat?” he said, attempting to rid his voice of its earlier bitterness. “You’ve got a sweater to finish, remember?”

She hopped over the divide and buckled her seatbelt with one hand, the other busy clutching a mass of yarn and needles.

She nervously played with a loose strand of yarn and then swivelled her head to look at Stan.

Mustering her courage, she hesitantly opened her mouth to speak.

“I know it was probably really scary to call your brother after all this time. And I know that taking care of me hasn’t been easy…” here she looked at the scabbed-over wound on his forearm.

She sighed and stared ahead, frustrated. “I just want to say…ugh, the words ‘thank you’ don’t feel big enough for what I want to tell you! I wish I had better words!” Her eyes fell back to the bundle of yarn in her lap, and she continued. “But anyway… thank you Stan, for all of it.”

Looking up, she caught him just in time to see his hand dash up to scrub a tear from his eye. He glanced down at her with a crooked smile, and replied softly,

“Hey kid, anything for you. Really. Lately you’ve started to feel like the only real family I’ve got; you mean the world to me and I’m gonna keep tryin’ my best to help ya.”

She gave him a loving smile, trying to fill it with all the things her ‘thank you’ just wasn’t big enough for, and he returned it gratefully.

“Alright then,” Stan sighed, forcing cheer into his voice as he declared, “Oregon or bust!”

“Yeah! To Gravity Falls we go!” Mabel resounded.

And with that they left behind the dusty little Nevada town and moved forward into the gaping chasm of the future.

____________________

Gradually the landscape began to change as they made their way into west-central Oregon. Unfortunately, so did the climate.

Mabel had put the finishing touches on her new sweater shortly after they’d passed the Oregon border, and shrugged into it now as a light November snow descended upon them. She’d been pleased to see she had a whole ball of extra yarn, and so had made use of it by crafting a scarf for Stan.

Eventually, the winding, tree-lined roads began to assume a strange familiarity for Mabel, like the memory of a dream or a strong case of deja-vu. And then, a definitive landmark appeared on the side of the road ahead.

“Look, look!” Mabel shouted, tugging on Stan’s sleeve and pointing ahead. “That’s the sign! We made it!”

Sure enough, a large “Welcome to Gravity Falls” sign came and went as they sped along the ever-snowier road.

“Whew, good thing too,” Stan huffed, nervously glancing at the dimming skies. “Looks like we’ve only got a little bit of daylight left.”

Mabel was entranced by the bizzaro-world past version of Gravity Falls they were driving through. It was the same town she knew and loved, but everything was slightly off, slightly newer. Some trees were shorter, and the cars were all different models than ones she was used to seeing. But it was the first familiar place she’d been in for days, and she was ecstatic. At least she was in the right place now, if not the right time.

Stan tried not to feel weird taking driving directions from the kid, who already seemed to know the town like the back of her hand. Though he had accepted her claim to be from the future as truth, he realized he hadn’t really let himself think about it too much; now, with all her uncanny knowledge of the town’s twists and turns, it was striking a chord how strange Mabel’s circumstances really were. Stan tried to ignore the unease in his gut that this knowledge gave him.

With Mabel’s instruction, they wound their way further away from the main drag of the town and into the dense pine forest. Before too long the trees gave way to a wide clearing, and a lonely wooden house sat nestled ahead in the fresh snow.

“That’s it,” Mabel breathed. It was the Mystery Shack, or at least what it had used to be. There were no signs pointing to the gift shop, and the roof was free of any large letters, but sure enough it was the house she’d spent her last few months in.

Stan’s heart was pounding so hard in his chest that he felt sure Mabel could hear it. He stopped the car as far away from the house as possible and cut the engine, eyes widely staring ahead at the wooden dwelling.

“Ten years,” he almost whispered. “I’ve been apart from Ford for ten years, wondering where he was and how he was doin’. And now he’s just there ahead of me, inside that house,” he said, gesturing toward the structure with his hand.

He let out a shuddering breath, and then felt a small hand fall on his.

He looked down to see Mabel gazing at him with comforting eyes. “I’ll hold your hand the whole time, if you want,” she offered softly.

He gave her hand a squeeze.

“Thanks, sweetie,” he smiled weakly. “I might take you up on that.”

They both made their way out of the car, Mabel bundled up in Stan’s jacket and Stan looping his newly-made scarf around his neck. Just as she’d said she would, the girl held tightly onto Stan’s hand as they trekked their way to the cover of the porch, the wintry light of dusk casting disquieting shadows all around them.

The floor of the porch groaned under their weight as they approached the door.

“Well,” Stan inhaled, eyes staring widely at the door in front of him. “Here goes nothing…”

______________________________________

The evening light was dying, forcing Stanford Pines to abandon his open journal at the kitchen table as he rose to turn on the overhead light. He was caught by surprise as a tenuous knocking sounded from the back door.

He glanced at his watch and peered out the kitchen window at the now steadily-falling snow.

The knocking grew louder and more urgent.

“Alright alright, hold on,” he mumbled, making long strides toward the door.

Ford unbolted the door and swung it back, letting in a flurry of unwelcome cold air, and was met with a sight that made his jaw drop and his breath catch in his throat.

Standing not four feet in front of him was his twin brother, wearing a grungy white t-shirt and an almost comically bright green scarf.

But even more confounding than seeing his brother was seeing the young girl clasped onto his hand, staring up at Ford with bright round eyes and wearing a jacket that engulfed her entire form.

“Hello, Stanford,” Stan addressed him tersely. “We’re here for your help.” 

Chapter Text

Ford could physically feel his jaw drop at the sight of his brother and the strange girl next to him.

A long couple of seconds passed as he stood there in the entryway, eyes darting back and forth between his twin in the distractingly green scarf and the small girl who was practically buried beneath an avalanche of a jacket.

The frosty air nipped at Stan’s skin, and he felt Mabel start to shiver next to him.

“ ‘S pretty cold out here Poindexter, why don’t you let us in.”

Ford felt his head nod up and down, and he took a slight step out of the way as his brother and the girl filed into the warm indoor air. He grabbed Stan’s elbow as he passed.

“Stanley, is that…” he shot a glance at Mabel. “Is that girl your… daughter?” he huffed under his breath, eyes wildly staring into his brother’s.

Overhearing this aside, Mabel let out a guffaw in spite of how nervous she was.

Stan cocked an eyebrow at his twin.

“Ford, how old do you think she is?”

Still flabbergasted that any of this was happening, Ford was left speechless.

“Uh…”

“Mabel, sweetie, how old are you?” Stan asked pointedly, still looking at Ford.

“I’m twelve!” she piped up from her position a few feet away.

“Hear that, Ford? She’s twelve. You’re a smart guy, you can probably do the math and come to the obvious conclusion that no, she is not my kid.”

“Of course,” Ford mumbled, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that standing here in his living room right now were a) his long-estranged brother and b) some twelve-year old girl, apparently named Mabel.

He forced himself to tear his gaze from Stanley and instead turn to the girl. She offered him a tenuous smile, and his eyes softened. He took a step towards her and then knelt down on one knee, extending his hand.

“Stanford Pines,” he introduced himself. “It’s nice to meet you, Mabel, was it?”

“It sure was!” responded the girl, reaching out a still-cold hand to shake Ford’s. She briefly had a flash of deja-vu; hadn’t she just done this same routine with the older Ford days ago? She shook it off.

Feeling Stan’s eyes burning into his back, Ford rapidly stood up.

“Um, please, make yourself comfortable,” he said, gesturing to the living room couch.

The scientist made a concentrated effort to keep his eyes on Mabel; he couldn’t even begin to believe that Stan had showed up here against his explicit instruction not to. But he tried his best not to let the mounting frustration show on his face, for the sake of the child in front of him.

Stan and Mabel made their way over to the living room couch, where Mabel shrugged out of the enormous jacket and folded it next to her. Ford noticed that the sweater she was wearing appeared to be made of the exact material as the scarf around Stan’s neck.

“It’s uh…pretty frosty out there, I think I’m going to start a pot of coffee.” Ford announced, giving his brother a heavy look. “Stan, why don’t you come to the kitchen to help me?” he said through grated teeth, jerking his head toward the other room meaningfully.

“Oh, I’ll help!” volunteered Mabel, springing up from the couch and disappearing into the kitchen. She poked her head from behind the wall. “You coming, Ford?”

Ford gazed, stupefied, at this girl who used his name as if she were already familiar with him. He swung his head to look at Stanley, who just shrugged with a snarky grin.

Reluctantly, Ford glided into the kitchen to find the girl stretching up in an attempt to open a cabinet she was too short to reach. “Could you please help me open this so I can get the mugs?”

“Oh, they’re actually in that cabinet over there,” Ford gestured to the adjacent cupboard. “Here, let me help you out…”

Opening the door, he retrieved two mugs, and then stopped to shoot a wondering glance at Mabel. “Do twelve year olds like coffee?” he wonderingly asked her.

“Eh, this one doesn’t.” She shrugged.

“Oh, um…I have some milk you could have instead?”

“That sounds great! Could I still have it in a coffee cup though?”

Ford chuckled in spite of himself. “I don’t see why not,” he replied, grabbing a third mug and pacing over to the refrigerator to fill it with the aforementioned milk.

He handed it to Mabel and then proceeded to prepare the coffee pot. As the water dripped through the filter, he and the girl leaned against the counter in a somewhat awkward silence.

Mabel cleared her throat. “So, um…you’re doing research here in Gravity Falls right?”

“That’s right…” Ford answered cautiously. “But how did you know that?”

“Oh…oh, I think Stan mentioned it…” Mabel choked on a sip of her milk, trying to cover for herself. She had gotten too comfortable with Stan knowing she held all this future knowledge; she’d forgotten that Ford didn’t know that at all.

“Yes, my primary research is in anomalies,” Ford answered after a moment.

“That sounds really interesting!” Mabel exclaimed. The man gave a sudden smile, pleasantly surprised at her opinion.

“Yes, it’s been quite exciting!” he babbled, becoming more animated with the subject of his work. “I’ve discovered all sorts of new phenomena, and my work on inter-dimensional paradigm theory has really just started to get off the ground! And-“

“Oh, is that like the portal and stuff?” Mabel blurted, so happy that she’d been having a pleasant conversation with Ford that caution had momentarily slipped her mind.

Ford veered his head sharply toward her, brow furrowed and mouth agape.

“How…how could you possibly know about that?” he said in a rasped whisper.

Mabel gulped, seeing the spark of unexpected frenzy in Ford’s eyes.

“I’d better go keep Stan company!” she squeaked, and then took hurried steps toward the living room, being careful not to spill her milk.

Ford watched her go, a metallic ringing growing in his ears. He took a few quick breaths, trying to think. He’d mentioned his research on the phone with Stanley, but he knew he hadn’t let word slip of the nearly-completed portal in the basement…

A loud beeping came from the coffee machine, jarring him from the runaway thoughts coursing through his mind. He shook his head and poured two steaming cups of black coffee, and turned toward the living room.

When Stan looked up to find Mabel returning to the living room, he was alarmed by the worry he saw etched into the girl’s face. From his position on the couch he hadn’t been able to hear any individual words of the conversation going on in the kitchen, but he’d been okay with that. He’d figured that maybe if Ford got a chance to warm up to the kid before they dug into everything, that maybe things would go more smoothly. But now seeing the fretted expression plaguing Mabel, he wasn’t so sure he’d made the right call.

“Hey, what’s the matter sweetie?” He said, moving aside the coat and scarf folded on the couch so that she’d have room to sit. She put down her mug on the side table and then hopped up, keeping her eyes down.

“I’m-“ she began, but her mouth snapped shut as she saw Ford enter the room, a mug of coffee in each hand. To her relief, he didn’t have the same frenzied look in his eye anymore, but she still had a churning feeling deep in her gut.

Ford handed Stan a mug, and then perched himself into a nearby armchair.

“Okay, Stan. I need you to tell me what this is all about.”

Stan cleared his throat. “Well, Ford, I called you this morning saying I needed your help. But really,” here he gestured a hand at the girl next to him, “it’s Mabel that needs your help.”

“Okay,” Ford drew out, giving his brother a long look. “But who even is she? Why is she even with you in the first place?”

Mabel winced at the disbelief in Ford’s tone, and took a deep breath. “I’m your guy’s great-niece…” she timidly spoke, “…from the future.”

Ford gave her a hard stare, and then raised his eyebrows at his brother. “You’ve got to be kidding me with this, Stan,” he said flatly.

Mabel inhaled sharply. “No, it’s true!” she shrilly exclaimed, fishing the tape measure from inside the jacket next to her and holding it out for him to see. “There was an accident with my time-travel device, and I got sent back and it broke, so now I have no way back-“

“Stan, don’t get me wrong, she seems like a nice kid,” Ford interrupted her. Frowning, he motioned toward Mabel and the tape measure in her hand. “But our niece? From the future? And is that tape measure her supposed time travel device?? Time travel is purely theoretical, there’s no scientific way to send even one molecule back through time, let alone-“

“Will you stop and listen to yourself for one second, Ford?” Stan roared. “When we were kids you spent all your time reading stupid stories about all sorts of weird stuff, and now you won’t believe this? She’s family, and-“

Ford slammed his mug on the table, hot liquid sloshing over the side. “I don’t know how she ended up with you, Stanley, but there is no possible way she’s family!”

There was a blur of green as Mabel launched herself from the couch, tears streaming down her face. She bolted from the living room and turned left in the hallway, instinctively headed up the stairs for the attic.

“Mabel!” Stan called out after her, standing up and reaching his arm out in the direction she’d run.

Fury in his eyes, he turned to his brother.

“What is wrong with you, Stanford? Your own brother calls for help and you turn him away like garbage! And now this!”

Ford rose, anger contorting his face as well.

“I told you not to come because I can’t risk the chance you’ll mess things up for me again! And now you’ve dragged some kid into the mix-“

“Dammit Ford, I’m your brother,” Stan heaved, “and I’m tryin’ to tell you that that girl is telling the truth! She is your family, and now you’ve turned her away too.”

With this he stormed away in the direction Mabel had headed. Before entering the hallway, he turned on his heel and shot his brother a look filled with anger and…and a creeping amount of heartbreak.

“You know that I’m your family, Ford,” his broken voice resonated. “So why won’t you trust me?”

With that he disappeared up the stairs, and Stanford Pines was left standing alone in his empty living room with nothing but a folded jacket and spilled coffee as evidence of the sudden turn his life had just taken.

Mabel slammed the attic door behind her and was surprised at first when she didn’t see two twin beds on either side of the familiar room. It was another of a somewhat-endless series of punches to the gut reminding her that this wasn’t her time, that she didn’t belong.

There is no possible way she’s family! echoed again and again through her head, a broken record stuck on the same dissonant chord. Looking around she found the small closet to the left of the attic door and threw herself into it, creaking the door shut behind her. There were odds and ends lining the small space, boxes of old notes and textbooks stacked high. She squirmed into a small cave formed by all the boxes, and held herself in a tight ball while the tears engulfed her.

She realized that the tape measure was still clutched in her hand.

I even showed him this, and he didn’t believe me…

She felt her cheeks burn with shame, and she felt so incredibly stupid for letting herself think that Ford would believe everything she’d tell him. And she felt stupid for getting herself into this mess in the first place.

“Oh, Dipper…” she sniffled between hushed sobs, “why did we have to fight?”

She held her breath as she heard the pounding of footsteps ascending the stairs, and drew herself as far back as she could into the corner.

The door to the attic was thrown open.

“Mabel?” Stan’s worried, out of breath voice called out. “Mabel it’s me, it’s Stan…”

He scanned the dusty attic; by the dim light filtering in through the triangular window, he was alarmed to find that Mabel was nowhere in sight.

“Sweetie, where are you?” he called out breathlessly, desperately checking behind old boxes and odd corners. Eyes spotting the narrow closet door, he opened it and sighed with relief at the small bit of green sweater visible through the gaps in the boxes.

Careful not to upset the tedious stack, Stan removed a box to find a tiny, balled-up Mabel in the corner. His heart broke as he saw the anguish on her small features.

Stan reached his arms out. “Come here, Mabel,” he said softly, and she slowly crept out of her hiding place and into his embrace. A fresh wave of sobs overtook her.

“He…he didn’t believe me…he said we weren’t family…” she choked out. Stan’s arms tightened around her, trying futilely to bring a sliver of comfort to this nightmare of a situation.

“I’ve got you, sweetie,” he murmured, patting her back rhythmically. “It’ll be okay…I’ll…We’ll think of something…”

She sat there crying in his arms until the light all but died from the room. Neither of them noticed the soft footsteps of the man making his way up the stairs, and when Ford Pines reached the top he had a clear view through the open door of his twin brother comforting the small, weeping girl in his arms.

Ford felt himself wince at the scene, at the grief he’d inflicted on the poor girl. He’d really had no ill intent toward her, and now, after seeing the way Stan cared for her and how much she seemed to trust him…Ford began to wonder if maybe in his frustration with Stan he’d jumped to conclusions too quickly. He still found it hard to believe that this girl was his niece, but… he’d spent his entire time in Gravity Falls witnessing mindboggling anomalies; who was he to say what was ultimately possible and impossible?

He guiltily looked on, hesitant to approach after seeing the effects his declaration had had on Mabel. Gathering himself, he stepped forward and gave a small knock on the doorframe. Both heads jerked up at the sound, and Stan’s face twisted into a scowl. “What do you want, Ford?”

Guiltily looking down at his hands, Ford responded, “I came to apologize to Mabel…I may have my doubts about the plausibility of the situation,” he said softly, daring to look up. “But it was rash of me to claim that what you said was impossible. And I’m sorry that it came out sounding so harsh.”

A heavy silence hung in the air, and Mabel slowly rose to her feet, looking Ford in the eye with a pleading expression. “So…you’ll help me get back to my own time?” she asked, voice trembling.

Ford offered a small, sad smile. “You have my word that I’ll do what I can for you.”

The girl’s breath caught in her throat in response to the overwhelming sense of relief that flooded through her. A small, almost hysterical giggle escaped her as she stumbled toward Ford and hugged him.

“Thank you, Great Uncle Ford,” she sputtered through residual tears.

Ford, caught off guard by both the sudden display of affection and title of great uncle, gave her a couple quick pats on the shoulder.

“Um, there there now…” he said, hopefully but awkwardly. Mabel stepped away and returned to Stan, who still eyed his brother warily.

Ford caught his brother’s look and his face turned stony for a brief second. Taking a breath, he forced himself to put on a neutral expression before addressing both of them.

“It’s getting late, and it sounds like you’ve been through a lot today,” he remarked, businesslike. “I don’t have any spare beds in the house, but you’re both welcome to sleep in the living room for tonight.”

Stan gave a stern nod, and, grabbing Mabel’s hand, followed Ford back downstairs.

Mabel had been prepared to take the living room recliner, but Stan insisted she take the couch. They’d had trouble finding any blankets, but Ford had ultimately been able to dig out a faded old patchwork quilt from who knows what year, and Stan had insisted Mabel take this as well.

She snuggled down into the couch under the musty old quilt, the emotional flux of the day beginning to hit her hard.

Stan crouched down next to where she was laying, making sure the blanket was tight around her. “You get some good sleep, okay kid? It’s been a long day.”

She nodded tiredly, eyes already beginning to flutter shut.

“Goodnight Stan,” she mumbled sleepily. “Make sure to tell Ford I said goodnight, too, okay?”

Stan swallowed. “Of course I will. Sleep tight, sweetie.”

He stood up to see Ford lurking around the hallway corner, giving him a quick wave of his hand to indicate he should come over. Stan sighed with irritation.

He stalked his way quietly across the room and into the hallway.

“What is it, Ford?” he asked in an irked whisper.

“I’m letting you stay here for Mabel’s sake,” Ford rushed, keeping his voice down. “But I need you to know that I’m conducting some very sensitive research, and that it can not be jeopardized in any way. I need to know that you’ll respect that, and that you’ll do as I say while you’re here. I still don’t know if I completely believe your situation,” Ford said, casting a sidelong glance, “but I wasn’t lying when I said I’d try to help.”

Ford looked back to see his brother casting him a callous glare.

“Are you done?”

Ford blinked. “Yes.”

“Good. Because our niece is in there, and I’d feel more comfortable knowing she’s not alone.”  With that he turned away and settled himself in the recliner next to the couch where Mabel was soundly sleeping, not giving his twin a second glance.

Ford sighed and made his way back to his room.

The cold north wind buffered ominously against the sides of the house, and Mabel’s eyelids began to twitch as dreams overtook her.

Chapter Text

The colors around her were muted but somehow also more vivid than normal. The sound of a softly falling waterfall bubbled in the distance, and all around were flowers and towering trees of every color and shape and texture. Small birds and dewy-winged insects flitted here and there, always just out of sight but delightful nonetheless. 

Mabel wandered through this whimsical landscape, stopping here and there to admire the particular color of a flower petal or at how the clouds seemed to seamlessly blend with the treetops.

A particular specimen of flora caught her attention, a golden blossom with the oddest angular petals. Stopping, she bent to inspect it.

Without warning, the petals of all the flowers around her began to turn ashy and wither, disintegrating before her horrified eyes as the golden bloom grew sharper and more angular, blade-like. She drew back as the monstrosity lifted from the ground, rising several feet into the air and growing in size.

There was a whoosh of air and a flare of burning light, causing Mabel to shield her eyes. When the light died down, an overbearing and snide voice rang through the area.

“Well, Shooting Star, making a bit of an early appearance, aren’t we?”

Mabel gasped.

“Bill!” she huffed, her voice taking on an angered tone. “What are you doing here?”

“You’re forgetting kid, I RULE the mindscape, remember?” the floating demon bellowed. With a snap of his fingers, suddenly the withered plants transformed, thorny tendrils forming nasty barricades in every direction. Mabel yelped and shrank away, then shot a disoriented look at the triangular figure.

“But what are you doing here in this time? I-“

“Whoa whoa whoa, what am I doing here? It’s YOU who’s in the wrong time! And not having agood time of it either, from what’s gone down so far! What, between putting one uncle in constant danger and having the other not believe a word you say, it’s beginning to look like you’re a bigger screw-up than we both thought!”

Mabel felt her cheeks burn. “Those things aren’t true!” she tried to sound fierce and unafraid, but her distress was hard to conceal.

“Oh, aren’t they?” The lid of the single eye dropped slightly, a cynical gaze burning toward her. Suddenly, shadowy forms appeared a few feet away. Mabel recognized them as Stan and the thug from the lot in Las Vegas, and here they were, fighting again. A gleam of silver appeared in the opponent’s hand, standing out in the haze of the scene. There was a flash, and the specter of Stan hunched over on the ground, clutching his middle as a red stain bloomed there.

“Seems like good old Stanley’s had some close calls since he’s had to start watching over you, huh kid?” jibed Bill.

Mabel cried out at the scene and flung herself away, trying to wipe the image of a dying Stan from her eyes.

“And don’t forget about the other uncle!” taunted the demon. “Though maybe you shouldn’t get too used to calling him that, seems he isn’t too keen on it…”

Another shadowy figure appeared right in front of her, this one was very distinctly Stanford Pines. His brow was furrowed and his mouth tilted in a sickening scowl, and in his hand he held a glowing replica of the tape measure.

“He doesn’t even believe you’re his own niece! What makes you think he’ll help you fix anything if you can’t even convince him of that?” echoed the ever more powerful voice.

Mabel stumbled back in fear as the shadow Ford took a menacing step toward her, deliberately raising the hand with the tape measure. With unnerving speed and power, the figure cast the device on the ground where it shattered on impact. The ghostly Ford turned to glare at the girl threateningly before dissolving into a wispy haze.

“Face it, Shooting Star,” Mabel spun around at Bill’s voice over her shoulder. “There’s nothing for you here! At this rate, your own family will tear itself apart before you get a chance to do anything! And won’t that be fun to watch!”

Mabel felt her fists clench. “You stay away from my family!”

The single eye seemed to constrict with amusement. “Oh, that’s rich! Sorry kid, I’ve got big plans for your family, and nothing YOU say is going to stop that! Besides, what are you going to do? No one here seems to believe anything you say anyway!!”

Mabel’s ears grew hot and she felt her bottom lip start to tremble at this last statement. Seeing her reaction, the demon cackled and raised his arms skyward, where terrifying streaks of light began to blaze through the clouds.

“You know what they say about Shooting Stars, they burn so bright but they’re gone so soon! AHAHAHA!”

Mabel sat bolt upright, hands clawing at the blanket as she struggled to catch her breath. She frenziedly looked all around: no blazing lights, no thorny branches, just the pale, dim light of early morning seeping through the windows and a snoring Stan in the nearby recliner.

She sat for a few moments and regained control of her breathing; the shadowy images of her great uncles danced on her eyelids whenever she blinked, and she desperately tried to rub them away.

Mabel took a deep, shuddering breath and realized how parched she was. She moved slowly out from under the quilt and felt her socked feet hit the carpet. She froze as Stan snored loudly and shifted his weight in the recliner. He’d fallen asleep using his jacket as a blanket, and had contorted his body to try and fit as much of himself under it as possible.

Mabel winced at the sight and quietly lifted the still-warm quilt from the couch. As lightly as she could, she flung the blanket out over Stan’s sleeping form until it settled over him. Satisfied that everything below his neck was covered, she turned toward the kitchen to continue her quest for water.

Once in the kitchen, Mabel was stopped in her tracks by the sight of a stranger sitting at the table drinking coffee and reading a newspaper. He glanced up at her and smiled kindly. She gave a small smile back, feeling she’d seen this man somewhere before…

“You must be Mabel,” the stranger said with a slight Southern accent. Seeing the confused glint in her eye, he continued. “I saw you guys sleeping in there when I came in this morning, had to be careful not to wake you. At first I thought it was Stanford sleeping on the chair, but the hair was much too shaggy to be his. Then Stanford told me about you guys visiting.”

“What did he say about me?” Mabel asked in a small voice, subconsciously sinking back behind a kitchen chair in worry.

“Oh, just that you’re a family friend travelling with his brother,” the man responded, and Mabel felt her heart sink. Bill’s voice echoed again in her mind, his threats about Ford not accepting her as family. If Ford hadn’t even told this guy she was related to him, what did he really believe himself?

“Hey there, why the long face?” the man said with concern.

Mabel sighed. “Oh, I guess I’m just still a little sleepy.”

The man gave a compassionate grin. “Well, some breakfast might wake you up a bit. How’d you like some eggs?”

Mabel felt her stomach rumble at the suggestion; her diet of peanut butter sandwiches had grown old after a couple days. “Eggs would be great!” she nodded, letting a smile break across her face.

He rose from his chair and started toward the stove.

“Eggs it’ll be, then. Oh,” he paused, turning around, “my name is Fiddleford McGucket, pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Luckily he turned back around before having time to see Mabel’s eyes grow wide. It all came flooding back to her, the Society of the Blind Eye, Old Man McGucket’s video of his former self…

Her mouth hung open, trying to comprehend that this kind, soft-spoken man currently making her breakfast was the same person as the crazy old goon that haunted Gravity Falls. She felt her heart break at the thought, and then her blood ran cold as she remembered the reason for his tragic transformation: the very portal he was helping to build.

She was so wrapped up in these thoughts that she didn’t immediately realize that he’d started talking to her again.

“Oh sorry, what was that?”

“I just asked how you’re liking Oregon this time of year!” Fiddleford’s voice came over the sizzling of scrambled eggs. “I just know it’s a little colder than what I’m used to, is all.”

The girl smiled at how nice this man was being. “Oh yeah, I’m from California and we don’t ever get snow, so this is kind of nice! I don’t have a jacket though, so I can’t go play in it or anything.”

“I know what you mean, before I was working with Stanford up here I was working on some projects of my own in Palo Alto! The winter sure can be pretty here.”

He brought her over a plate of scrambled eggs and a fork, and sat back down to his coffee across the table from her. She thanked him heartily and dove in, savoring the taste.

They talked across the breakfast table for a bit; nothing too deep beyond friendly small talk, but Mabel found herself comforted by Fiddleford’s genial nature.

“So,” he said as she was finishing up the last of her breakfast. “Stanford seems to have really taken a shine to whatever that doodad was that you brought along with you; all this morning he kept taking breaks from our work to stop and look at it.”

Mabel paled slightly; she hadn’t noticed that the tape measure had been missing from where she’d put it on the side table last night. Ford must have picked it up while she was asleep! But a part of her grew hopeful. Maybe if he looks at it closely, he’ll be able to tell it’s really a time machine!

She realized that Fiddleford said he and Ford had been working; if she remembered future Ford’s story correctly, that must mean…

“So you and Ford are working on the portal today then?” Mabel bravely asked, fearing that Fiddleford’s reaction to mention of the portal would mirror Ford’s frenzied one from yesterday. To her relief, he did nothing but raise his eyebrows in surprise.

“Oh, didn’t know you knew about that! Did Stanford tell you about it yesterday?”

“Um, something like that.”

“Well, technically the portal is pretty darned near done; we were actually getting ready to test it this week, but I expect that while Stanford has visitors he’ll probably want to delay.” Fiddleford took an untroubled sip of his coffee, not seeming to be bothered at all by the haphazard way Ford ran his schedule.

Mabel felt her stomach drop; if the portal was finished enough to be tested, it meant that everyone she cared about’s lives were close to changing for the worse! It meant that the thoughtful, soft-spoken person sitting across from her was about to have his life shattered and his memories ripped from him; it meant that Ford was going to be sucked into it and Stan was going to spend thirty lonely years trying to get him back!

It was there that Mabel made a bold decision, a core choice that she knew it was her solemn duty to make: she had to stop the portal from wreaking havoc on her family.

Mustering her courage, she did her best to keep an even voice. “Do you think I could go downstairs and say good morning to Ford? That tape measure of mine that he was messing with is actually broken, and he told me he’d help me fix it!” Remembering what Stan had told her about using her puppy-dog eyes, she put on the sweetest face she could manage.

Fiddleford hesitated, obviously conflicted. “I don’t know if the lab is the safest place for a little lady such as yourself to be…” he started, and then caught a glace of her expression and grinned. “But if you promise not to touch anything dangerous-looking I’m sure we can make an allowance.”

“I promise!” Mabel sang, thrilled that it had worked.

“Alrighty, right this way,” the lanky man beckoned, and they made their way to the other side of the house. It was strange to see the room empty of Mystery Shack merchandise, and the door to the basement had no vending machine to cover it.

Mabel felt her mouth go dry as the elevator descended to the basement level; she knew now that she had to convince Ford to not follow through with the portal, but what was she going to say?

Before she had the chance to change her mind, the elevator dinged and the doors opened on the laboratory.

“Hey Stanford!” Fiddleford called out genially. “Brought some company!”

Mabel followed her guide past tall towers with blinking lights and posters of diagrams with formulas scribbled all over them, and saw Ford at a desk ahead of them.

His head was bent over something, but a moment later he seemed to register what his partner had said. “Company? What do you mean–“

Turning around, he was left speechless at the sight of the twelve-year old girl standing in the middle of his lab.

Fiddleford breezed by him on his way to an adjacent room. “She wanted to say good morning to you, isn’t she a peach? I didn’t think you’d mind too much.”

Mabel watched Fiddleford leave the room, and was suddenly nervous to be alone with Ford, especially here in his lab. She swallowed.

“I uh, Fiddleford said you’d had a chance to look at the tape measure?” she squeaked out.

Ford shook himself out of his stupor and brightened, beckoning the girl over to his desk. Mabel saw on its surface that Ford had delicately popped one of the charred side panels off, and neatly layed out a set of tools and magnifying lenses next to the inner workings of the device.

“It’s really quite remarkable, Mabel,” Ford spoke softly as she took in the device. Sitting at his desk chair, they were eye-level, and he turned to look at the girl with wonder in his eye. “This kind of technology, it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen! I’ve been tinkering around with it, and a lot of it has been compromised, but from what I can see, there does appear to be a time signature etched into the remaining circuitry…”

Gently, he placed a hand on her shoulder and his eyes softened. “The last registered temporal location is 2012. The future,” he affirmed.

She felt her heart leap in her chest. So Ford had seen it, had come to his conclusion that she really was from another time!

A smile broke out across her face and she gave a series of little bounces as she asked, “So you believe me then? You know I’m telling the truth?”

Ford gave a warm smile. “Mabel, I have no evidence not to. I’m…” he sighed, ashamed. “I’m sorry for the way I treated the situation. And if…if you’re really my niece…” he faltered, trying to find the words. “Then I’m sorry all the more.”

Mabel launched herself towards him, hugging him as tightly as she could. “Oh thank you, I was so worried you wouldn’t believe me!” she exclaimed, her heart racing with joy. She pulled away, suddenly worried again.

“Is… do you think there’s any way to fix the tape measure?” she questioned nervously.

Ford’s face grew somber. “Based on the remaining time signature from the journey here, I do think there’s a way to feed that exact time through the inner workings again. But,” he said gravely, “I think that at best it will be a one-time use.”

“One time is all I need!” Mabel practically wept with relief. This had gone better than she’d dared to hope!

“Well, I still have to do some re-assembly, and I have a lot on my plate with my main project…”

Here Mabel felt dread once again make her stomach sink. Now that she knew there was a definite shot at getting home, it was more pressing than ever that she stop the portal from ruining the fate of her family.

Inhaling sharply, she forced herself to make her statement before she could chicken out. “Great Uncle Ford, I know this is going to sound crazy, but I need you to stop working on your portal.”

She could see Ford physically freeze up. To her alarm, his eyes once again took on a fevered shine as he asked, bewildered, “What are you talking about?”

She drew away in fear, but made herself continue. “Ford, please, the portal is dangerous and… I can’t let you use it!” the words rushed from her mouth; too late she realized how forceful they’d sounded.

Ford stood up, obviously expending great effort to keep himself looking calm, but his eyes were still flashing with agitation. “Mabel, you can’t know what you’re talking about, this is my life’s work. If I don’t have this, I have nothing.”

Mabel felt herself start to shake, felt the bond she and Ford had begun to share only moments ago start to slip away from her, with nothing she could do about it.

“You have us,” she whimpered, “you have your family,”

Ford continued to stare tensely at her, unmoving. 

Fiddleford suddenly strode into the room, head buried in some papers. “Hey Stanford, I—“ Looking up, alarm spread across his face as he took in the scene in front of him. “Stanford? What’s the matter?”

Ford drew himself upright and took an indignant breath. “Mabel was just on her way back upstairs, and I was going to go over some things in my study,” he huffed out. “Would you please be kind enough to show her the way out?”

At a loss for words, Fiddleford guided the equally speechless Mabel back to the elevator, leaving the frosty, silent Ford behind them. Mabel stared blankly ahead as they ascended, trying to play back the past few minutes in her mind. Things had taken such a sharp turn, so quickly…

“I don’t know what got into Stanford back there,” Fiddleford worriedly mumbled. “He’s usually warmer than that…”

The door to the not-yet gift shop swung open, and the two stepped out, lost in their own thoughts. Fiddleford paced around anxiously for a few moments, and then looked at Mabel with confusion in his eyes. “I…I don’t think Stanford looked like he was in any state to go on with more work at the moment. If you see him again, would you tell him I had to go home for a bit to organize some notes? I’ll be back later on today.”

Mabel felt herself nod, still in a daze about what had just happened, and watched as Fiddleford strode quickly out the door. She suddenly found herself alone in a big empty room, shoulders heavy with a burden the likes of which she’d never felt before.

Ford sat at the desk in his study, eyes staring blankly ahead at the now-reassembled tape measure he’d brought with him. His mind rapidly replayed the exchange he’d just had with Mabel. Immediately after she and Fiddleford had left, he’d felt awful for the harsh manner in which he’d sent her away; it reminded him of his father.

In his mind were two trains of thought, each moving at perilous speeds and in danger of derailing. On the one hand, he’d seen the time travel device with his own two eyes, seen the evidence that Mabel was, indeed from the future. And if she was telling the truth about that, then why would she have reason to lie about being related to him?

But on the other, she had told him, no commanded him to shut down the portal! After he’d gone to such great lengths, after he was so close! He’d poured so much effort, so many late nights into this project; he’d even had it confirmed, it was his destiny to build this portal! With the help of a friend, of course…

Almost on cue with this thought, Ford felt his hands and legs go numb and the world around him was leeched of color as a familiar voice made itself heard.

He blinked his eyes and suddenly wasn’t in his study anymore, but rather the unbounded plane of his mind. “Hey there, Stanford! What’s going on, friend? Thought we were on track to fire up that project soon?”

“Bill! I wasn’t expecting to meet with you. Well, there’s been a sort of hold-up,” Ford stumbled over his words, made nervous by the recent events.

“There’s a reason I decided to meet oh-so-unexpectedly, and I think we both know who she is! In fact, I wish I’d gotten here earlier to warn you!”

“Warn me, about what?” Ford’s eyes grew wide.

Almost imperceptibly, Bill’s eye constricted with sly delight, and then resumed an urgent expression.

“The girl who keeps claiming to be your ‘niece’”, Bill responded, putting sardonic emphasis on the last word. “Don’t tell me, she’s probably tried already to stop you from flipping the switch on the big project?”

“She…she has! How did you know?” Ford asked wildly.

“Well she wasn’t lying about being a time-traveller, friend, but not for the reasons I’m sure she’s told you! Haven’t you wondered why she got all buddy-buddy with your brother first instead of coming straight to you? It’s ‘cause she knew she could sneak her way into his soft little heart, that he wouldn’t be clever enough to see her true game like you would! She knew she could use him to get to you!”

“But…but why would she need to?” the man puzzled, running his hands roughly through his hair. “What is she here for?”

“She’s here from the future to sabotage all you’ve worked for, to stop you from ever turning on that portal! She’s not your niece, Stanford! She’s an enemy agent! She’s here because the people in the next millennium can’t stand that you figured it all out first! ”

Ford felt something collapse in his chest, a vacuum where all the things he’d thought he was sure of were suddenly vacated, thrown to the wind. “But, but she and Stan, they were so close…and she was so kind to me, and she got along with Fiddleford…”

“Don’t you get it, Sixer? If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times,” the demon insinuated. “There is no one but me that you can trust!” 

Chapter Text

Stan Pines was sleeping comfortably for the first time in what felt like forever. In his groggy state of waking, he found that it was because all of his limbs were stretched out to their content, and somehow still warm.

This is new, the sleepy thought curled lazily through his mind. He let his eyes open a sliver, and was greeted by the pale light of a cloudy winter day. Looking down, he saw that he was covered haphazardly in the quilt Mabel had slept under in the night.

But then, where’s Mabel? His eyes snapped open, recalling the events of the previous day. He sat upright, and the recliner jolted forward at his movement, nearly throwing him to the ground. He swung his head over to the nearby couch, and his heart skipped a beat with the realization that it was empty.

Stan scrambled out of the recliner, trying to untangle his legs from the old blanket that had somehow ended up on him in the night. Heart pounding, his worried thoughts flew a million miles per second: Where is she? She can’t be far, we were both in the house last night! Come on, Stan, you can’t lose her now…  

He hurriedly peaked his head in the kitchen, and his heart rate increased when he found it empty. In fact, the whole place seemed eerily empty…

Stan shook his head of the thought and continued to make his way through the house in his search for the girl. He was in such a hurry, in fact, that he almost missed the sight of Mabel hunched over against the wall in a nearby room.

Sighing with relief, he felt his hand fly to his heart as he exhaled. “There you are, kid! Jeez, I woke up and you weren’t there! I guess I panicked a little—hey,” he stopped, seeing her state of distress. “Sweetie, what’s wrong?”

She looked up at him, eyes wide and hollow. He realized with alarm that she was gasping in short, uneven breaths. “There’s…there’s so much happening and everything’s about to go wrong, and nothing I do will stop it…”

Her mouth hung open as empty words tried to escape, but no speech came out.

Stan felt his veins go cold with worry. “Mabel, what are you talking about? What’s going on?”

Mabel felt like there was a leaden weight sinking to the bottom of her very being, dragging her down an endless well with nothing she could do to stop it. Ford wouldn’t listen to her, he wouldn’t stop the portal, and soon everyone’s lives were about to be ruined, and no matter what she did she couldn’t stop it…

Her heart was racing and she began to quiver. “There’s too much…there’s too much…” she gasped, swaying a bit on her feet as lightheadedness took over.

“Mabel!” Stan clamored, catching her feeble form as she fell. Quickly, he lifted her into his arms and carried her back to the living room, finding his way to the couch. He sat down and hugged the distraught girl close to him.

“Hey sweetie, hey, try taking some deep breaths now, we’ll do ‘em together,” he murmured. He made sure she was looking at him, and then took an exaggerated breath. Shakily, she followed along with him.

He continued with her like this for a while, until she stopped shaking and her breathing was back to a normal rate.

Mabel looked up at him. “Thank you, Stan,” she said softly. “I just… started to panic and I couldn’t stop…”

“Hey don’t mention it kid,” Stan replied with a small smile, patting her shoulder. “But what happened to make you feel that way?” His eyes clouded with anger as he followed up “And where’s Ford? Was it something he did?”

Mabel hesitated, trying to decide the best path to take. She’d tried to convince Ford on her own to shut down the portal, and it hadn’t worked. Maybe it was time to tell Stan the devastating truth about what was going on right beneath their feet…

She swallowed, and then began.

“Stan, right before I got zapped here from the future, well…”

He patiently waited for her to arrange her thoughts.

“In summer 2012, my twin brother and I come here, to this house, to spend the summer with our great uncle…”

“So in the future, your family comes to visit Ford?” Stan asked quietly, hurt by the thought that even his future family chose his brother to spend time with.

“Not exactly… it’s…it’s you.”

“Me? But this is my brother’s house, why would I be here?”

“Because of what Ford’s built in the basement!” Mabel blurted out.

Stan sat, mesmerized, as Mabel went on to tell the story of how Ford had built a portal to other dimensions in his basement laboratory, and how some time from now he was supposed to have called for Stan to dispose of its instructions. His eyes grew wide as she told him of their fight, of how in a moment of anger, his twin would be drawn into the very machine he’d built and be lost for thirty years.

“And you had no way of getting him back, except for to try and rebuild the portal! And it took you thirty years, which is why you’re still here in 2012, when Dipper and I come to spend the summer! You had to fake your own death and take over Ford’s identity while you figured out the portal, and the night I got sent through time is the night you were finally able to bring Ford back!” she sputtered, eyes shining with emotion.

Stan fell against the back of the couch, dazed. “I…I lose my brother because of some stupid fight?” he breathed, head reeling.

“But, you’re able to get him back,” Mabel said softly, placing her hand on top of his.

He blinked, and turned to look at her.

“So in Ford’s basement, right now, is some portal deathtrap he’s built?”

Mabel nodded solemnly. “Before you were awake today, I went downstairs with his partner Fiddleford, because that’s where he was working on my tape measure. And he said he finally believed that I was from the future, because he’d messed around with the inside of it and saw that it really was a time machine! He said he’d be able to get me back home…” she sighed. “But then I knew that I had to tell him to stop building the portal, because I can’t let all that happen to my family! And, he…he…”

She coughed, trying to keep her voice from breaking. “He wouldn’t listen. And now I’m afraid that all these bad things are going to happen and it’s all my fault, because I couldn’t stop it…”

Tears began to roll down her cheeks. She felt two hands gently fall on her shoulders, and looked up to find Stan with a determined look in his eyes.

“Mabel, nothing is your fault. If what you say really happened…happens…whatever, then it’s because of me and my brother. Not you.”

She sniffed and wiped away her tears with her sleeve, giving Stan a watery smile.

Sighing, they both slumped slightly into the couch, weary from their emotional dialogue.

“So,” Stan huffed after some time. “It sounds like my brother needs a little heart-to-heart about why he shouldn’t go around building portals.”

Mabel looked at him, eyes wide with worry. “But what if he still won’t listen?”

Just as Stan was about to answer, the entire house took a sickening lurch. Stan yanked Mabel and himself out of the way of an object falling from the shelf above.

“What was that, an earthquake?” he yelped, taking a few paces back from the couch. The walls began to practically buzz with a sinister energy.

The back door suddenly burst open and a lanky man sprinted in.

“And who’s this?” Stan gestured at the newcomer.

“It’s Ford’s partner, Fiddleford,” Mabel raised her voice over the hum of the house. Turning to him, she called out, “What’s going on?”

Fiddleford made his way over to where they were standing. “Stanford just called me and told me to get over here right away, something about Bill saying now was the right time to start the portal!”

“Bill??” Mabel cried out. “But…why is Ford listening to Bill?”

Fiddleford’s eyes rolled, as if annoyed at the mention of the name. “Oh, you know, whatever hispartner says, goes!”

Mabel gasped. “You mean…Ford is working with Bill?”

“I thought you just said this guy was Ford’s partner!” Stan said, gesturing to Fiddleford. “Who’s Bill?”

Mabel swung around to face both of them. “Bill’s a dream demon! He can get into people’s heads, and he possessed my brother once! If he’s working with Ford, then it must be because he tricked him into making a deal!”

The two men stared blankly at the girl for a moment.

“Ford’s messing with demons now?” Stan shouted, bewildered.

Fiddleford scratched his head, at a loss. “Stanford always referred to Bill as a muse, but it never did seem quite right to me…”

The house shook violently again, and the furniture began to lift off the floor before crashing back down a moment later.

The girl yelped at the commotion, then looked up at Stan and Fiddleford. “Ford must be starting the portal! We have to go down there and stop him!”

She bolted across the room and through the house to the basement door, with Stan and Fiddleford on her heel. As they descended the stairs to the elevator door, the ominous humming sound grew louder.

Stan’s eyes widened as the elevator doors closed around them, astounded that all this was beneath the seemingly normal house. As they descended, there was a terrifying jolt and the elevator shaft shook, bowling the three into each other.

“It’s too early, the portal is still too unstable! It’s not meant to be used yet!” Fiddleford cried out as he shakily rose to his feet.

After what felt like a horrible eternity, the elevator reached the laboratory. Mabel threw herself out as soon as the doors were open wide enough and skidded to a halt at what she saw.

The control desk had its various levers and knobs flipped on, and two bright vertical beams of light were illuminating the portal room through the window. Outlined against this light was Ford, his coat flying out behind him.

Mabel felt a flicker of hope when she saw that the actual portal was not yet active, but still sparking to life. Taking a sharp breath, she barrelled forward and threw open the door to the portal room, with the others following suit.

Ford whipped around at the sound of the door, his eyes wide and crazed. But to Mabel’s relief, they were his own eyes and not the vertical slits of Bill’s.

“Ford! What are you doing, are you completely crazy!” Stan roared over the whirring of the machinery around them.

“I’m doing what I was born to do, Stanley! This portal is my crowning achievement, and nothingshe can say will make me stop it!” Ford sharply jabbed his index finger in Mabel’s direction.

“Stanford, please, this isn’t safe!” Fiddleford pleaded.

“NO! It has to be done now, before it can be meddled with! I have to do this before anyone can stop me!”

Ford rapidly turned and took panicked steps toward the lever protruding from the center of the floor. Mabel’s eyes widened in alarm as she realized what he was about to do.

“No! Stop!” she cried, feeling herself begin to race over to the lever. Without pausing to think, she lept up and onto Ford, knocking him off balance and away from the lever.

“Ford you can’t do this, you’ll ruin your life! You’ll get sucked in!” Mabel shrieked, trying to hold back his arms.

“I was a fool to believe you once, I won’t let it happen again!” Ford bellowed, and with one swift move, heaved the girl away from him.

Almost as if time had been slowed down, Mabel felt herself fly to the ground in slow motion. There was an odious thud as her head made contact with the floor, overshadowed by the noise of the portal.

She saw stars for a moment and her ears began to ring; she felt something warm begin to trickle down her ear, and when she reached her hand up to feel her head, speckles of blood painted her fingers.

Looking up she saw the horrified expression spreading across Ford’s face. He staggered and gaped down at her, and then at his own hands.

He took an unsure step toward her, horrid disbelief at his own actions contorting his face.

“I…what have I done–”

He was cut off as a lumbering figure crashed into him from the side. Mabel watched, dazed and horrified, as Stan began to throw punches at his twin on the ground.

“You don’t ever touch her!” Stan thundered between punches.

“I…I don’t know what’s become of me!” Ford cried out in shame. “This isn’t who I am!”

Stan froze and pulled back.

Blood dribbled down from Ford’s nose as he curled upright. “I just harmed a child,” he choked, “what’s wrong with me?”

Stan was still brimming with rage. “You just hurt your own niece! I’ve thought it since you let dad throw me out, and now I know,  you don’t care about your family at all!”

Ford took a sharp intake of breath, and his eyes grew wide with shock. 

“Stanley, that’s not true!” he exclaimed.

“Not true?! You let your own brother be thrown to the curb for a dumb mistake I made when I was eighteen! And then, nothing! For ten years! Do you know how many times I tried to call, tried to make sure that my brother was alright? Only to stop at the last minute out of fear he’d ignore me again?”

Tears were freely rolling down Stan’s face now, his face revealing ten years of hurt. “I missed you, Ford, and you felt nothing.”

Abashed, Ford felt a hand reach out to his brother.

“Stanley, I’m so sorry,” he said, voice raw with emotion.

Stan’s head jerked up, ringing with the apology he’d yearned for for ten long years.

“I let my pride get in the way all those years, Stanley, I… I should have been there for you. I’m such a terrible brother, and now I let this portal get in the way, I let it take over my life…”

He looked forlornly up at the whirring machinery.

“Hey!” Stan shouted, shaking Ford’s shoulders and bringing his gaze back.

“Listen, we have to turn that thing off! Mabel really is your niece, poindexter! And she told me that if that thing stays on, you’re gonna get sucked up into it! That’s why she tried to get you to shut it down!”

“But, but that means that Bill lied to me,” Ford babbled, as if suddenly waking up from a vivid dream. “It means…he was just using me…”

Bolts of electricity began to spark from the portal machine, and with alarm Stan felt himself being slightly tugged upward, as if gravity were growing lazy in its grip. Mabel began to lift several feet off the ground, her long hair floating in all directions around her.

“Ahh!” she cried out as gravity returned. Stan and Ford watched with horror from their position several yards away as Mabel plummeted back to the ground.

A blur of white flashed by as Fiddleford dashed to her, reaching his long arms out to catch her as she fell.

Letting out a ragged breath, Stan turned back to his twin. “This is dangerous, Ford! We need to shut it down!”

“You’re right, Stanley,” his brother nodded. Stan rose to his feet and turned toward the annex, but felt a hand on his shoulder before he could move. Turning back, he was met with Ford’s pained, sorrowful eyes.

“I meant it, Stan, I’m so sorry. For everything. Can…can you ever forgive me?” 

Stan let a wild grin break across his face. “Sixer, I’ve been dreamin’ of hearing you say that for ten years! Of course I forgive you! But right now we’ve got a portal to shut down!”

Eyes lighting up, Ford nodded. “We need to get back to the control room!”

They hurried over to where Fiddleford and Mabel were huddled. Mabel shrank back from Ford without thinking, even after witnessing his apology to Stan.

“Mabel, I’m so sorry!” Ford called over the basslike hum of the machine. “I never meant to hurt you! I see now you were just trying to do what was right!”

Mabel’s heart leapt to hear this. “So you’ll shut it down?”

“I will! I see now that it’s dangerous and that I was deceived!”

They all turned to the doorway between the portal room and the annex, when without warning the doorway drained of all color.

“Aw, how cute, a little Pines family reunion!” laughed a snide, echoing voice above the din of the portal. The demon manifested in the doorway, the anger in his eye betraying the tone of his voice.

Mabel shrank back at the voice, latching onto Stan’s arm in fear.

“Bill!” Ford roared. “You swindled me like a fool! You turned me against my own family!”

“Your family’s a real piece of work, Sixer! And they were just about to let you throw away all my hard work! Well, I’m afraid I can’t let that happen…”

The demon’s triangular shape suddenly transformed into a column of blue flame, which whirled and twisted its way toward Stanford Pines.

Ford let out a chilling, inhuman scream and collapsed to the ground as the blue flame overtook him.

“A deal’s a deal, Sixer!” rang out a menacing voice overhead as the flames extinguished.

“Ford!” Stan yelled, sinking down to his brother.

Ford remained chillingly motionless for half a second, before his eyes snapped open to reveal demonic slitted pupils and a yellow gaze.

“Sixer’s out at the moment,” Ford’s voice spoke madly, a wicked grin overtaking his face. “And I’ve got a portal to open!”

Chapter Text

Ford’s eyes shone like embers as he rose to his feet. He turned his yellow gaze down toward Mabel. “So close, Shooting Star, but Fordsy here played right into my game! Time for me to finish the job!”

Fiddleford lunged forward from where he was standing and grabbed Ford’s coat by the lapels. “Stanford, if you’re in there, you’ve got to–”

“Oh, shut up!” Ford’s voice droned sardonically, and with lightning speed, he twisted and threw his elbow up into the unsuspecting Fiddleford’s jaw. The lanky man flew backward and crashed to the floor, not rising again.

“Stupid hillbilly,” Ford spat.

Mabel gasped in terror at this violence. Leaning in, she tugged on Stan’s arm.“We’ve got to get to the control room!” she whispered urgently, hoping desperately that the demon wouldn’t hear.

Ford’s head snapped up. “Sorry kiddo, no can do!” cried his crazed voice.

“Go!” Stan bellowed, pushing Mabel back toward the doorway.

“Not so fast!” the demon possessing Ford’s body shot forward, crashing into Stan just as he reached the doorway. Mabel was knocked to the side, heart sinking as she realized she was still on the wrong side of the doorway.

The two brothers were locked in combat in the threshold between rooms.

“You let my brother go, you demon freak!” Stan roared, trying to get ahold of Ford’s arms. Desperate, he threw a weak punch toward Ford’s chest, but the demon easily dodged.

“Oh come on Stan, worried about hurting your precious brother? He didn’t seem to be worried about hurting his family!”

Ford shot a powerful kick at Stan, propelling him back into the side of the desk. Strolling over, Ford squinted down at the man on the ground.

“You were always in the way, you know. Do you know how old it got hearing your name bounce around in Sixer’s head? Ugh!” Ford’s voice scoffed. “Months of pent-up frustration on my end! So I think I know a way to blow off steam…”

Ford’s foot launched forward into Stan’s chest, pushing him back into the white-hot grate behind him.

Stan let out an animalistic scream as the heat burned through his shirt and into his shoulder, a sickening cloud of smoke rising from the contact. A wicked leer grew across Ford’s face as he took in Stan’s pain, and he pressed harder.

Mabel cried out when she heard Stan’s screeches, when she saw what Bill was doing to everyone she loved. She had to get into the room, had to put all of this to an end…

She rose to her feet, determination and adrenaline flowing through her veins. Sprinting forward, she barely had time to register the confusion on Ford’s face as she launched herself over the two brothers in one long leap.

She’d put a lot of power into the jump, concerned about clearing the two men and the doorway without getting stopped. She sailed over Stan and flew several feet into the control room, rolling to a stop near the elevator doors.

Ford drew back as he registered this, and Stan fell forward, the sizzling skin on his shoulder blade now puckered and discolored with the pattern of the grate.

“You!” Ford’s voice growled as he turned to face Mabel. “You’ve been a bigger pain than Stan here! Oh, the fun I could have getting rid of you…”

“NO!” rang out an enraged Stan. From his position on the ground, he swept his legs out and under Ford’s, knocking his twin off balance and sending him to the floor. Ignoring the searing pain of his shoulder, he threw himself forward, feebly pinning Ford.

“Mabel, shut it down!” Stan’s raw voice echoed through the room.

Mabel scrambled to her feet, looking around her. In the corner she saw a counter with various tools and supplies spread across it. Her eyes lit up as she saw a large metal mallet leaning against the table’s leg, and dashing forward, she swiped it up.

She could see Stan struggling to keep his brother pinned as she flew across the room, and alarm filled her as she saw Ford begin to break free. Madly, she began to flip back all the levers, and sure enough the sounds of the portal machinery began to sputter out and die down all around them.

“NO!” Ford shrieked as Mabel lifted the mallet above her head. She shot a flitting glance at him.

“No one messes with my family and gets away with it!” Mabel resounded, and then brought down the mallet with all her strength. The lights in the portal room began to flicker and die as the girl madly dealt damage to every lever and button her eyes saw. She laid into the controls with a final devastating blow, and the panel crumpled and began to spill smoke beneath the weight of the mallet. The beast was dead.

“What have you done?” screeched Ford’s voice with inhuman anger. Shoving Stan off of him, he bolted into the portal room toward the still-humming lever in the center of the floor.

Mabel lept over to Stan’s side, stooping under his arm to help him stand up, and wincing at the pained sounds he made when his right shoulder was moved. They hobbled into the portal room to find the possessed Ford madly wrenching the lever back and forth, with no result.

“Agghhh!” raged Ford. He spun around to face Mabel and Stan. His jaw clenched and his eyes grew wide and raving with fury. The demon took a single stalking step toward the two of them.

“DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU’VE COST ME?” he screamed, his voice ragged. His glowing yellow eyes seemed to flicker with flame, and then a lunatic grin began to break across his features. Ford’s voice started to snicker maniacally.

“You’ve destroyed everything I’ve worked for, Shooting Star,” he leered, reaching into an inner coat pocket. “So I’m going to return the favor…”

Mabel’s breath caught in her throat as she watched Ford pull out the tape measure and toss it back and forth from hand to hand.

“Say goodbye to your future!” Ford’s voice rang out as he hefted the device above his head.

“No!” Mabel tore away from Stan’s side and launched herself up at the tape measure in Ford’s hand.

What happened next was so terribly quick, and yet Stan felt that it happened slowly, as if he watched it frame-by-frame.

Stan looked on in horror as the small girl jostled with the demon for control of the device, scrabbling up his arm to reach for it. He watched in shock and fear as Mabel’s hand slammed down on the top of the tape measure, depressing one of the buttons protruding from it.

The device began to emit a bright blue flash, and Stan’s ears rang with the sound of Mabel yelling his name before the light engulfed both her and his brother…

A blinding, burning blaze of blue light, a column of blue flame, and then nothing.

In shock, Stanley Pines staggered over to the spot where, just seconds before, the two people he loved most in the world had been standing. Nothing was left but a smoldering brand in the ground, the burnt etching of a triangular figure in the exact place Ford had been standing.

The portal room was silent.

Stan felt his knees give way, and he fell to ground in front of the wretched portal. “I…she’s gone. And Ford’s gone,” the words bubbled to his lips as tears began to flood down his face. The burn on his shoulder seared with every small movement he made, a constant reminder of the events of…could it really only be the past few minutes? It felt like a lifetime.

“I just got him back!” Stan sobbed into the emptiness. “I just got both of them, I can’t lose them now!”

In a frenzy, he banged his fists against the spot where seconds earlier they’d both stood, as if his pain would make them materialize there once more. Sobbing, he collapsed into the spot, the last image of Mabel and Ford burning into his eyelids.

He lay there motionless for a long while, snippets of time rolling through his mind like old film. Ford’s apology… Mabel being lifted into the air as gravity disappeared…Ford’s demonic yellow eyes…Mabel leaving his side at the last minute…

Suddenly, Mabel’s voice was in his head, the ghost of something she’d said earlier.

“In summer 2012, my twin brother and I come here, to this house, to spend the summer with our great uncle…”

Stan’s breath hitched in his throat. 2012. The night when Mabel came back through time, it was thirty-something years from now, in this very house. If that’s where she had left from, maybe it was where her tape measure would return her…

It was the smallest, most painful sliver of hope, but Stan felt the ember of the possibility flicker within him.

“Summer 2012,” he breathed shakily to himself. “I just have to make it to summer 2012…”

_____________________________________

Mabel opened her eyes not to the cavernous world of the portal room, but to the twilight air of the Mystery Shack attic. Her head was pounding and there was a small cluster of flames burning on her sweater sleeve, which she rushed to pat out. She turned her head to find the young Stanford Pines laying on the floor beside her, painfully blinking his eyes open. Leaning over, she saw that they were his eyes once more, and not yellow or slitted in the least.

“Mabel!” she heard a familiar voice yelp. Swinging around, her heart flooded with joy as she saw Dipper rushing toward her.

“Dipper!”

“Mabel, I…” her brother was dazed and blinking, unsure of what had just happened. “We…we were fighting about something, I…I don’t even know what, and then you were gone!”

She hugged him close, her tears spilling onto his shirt. “I’m back, I’m back…” she cried, sinking into her brother’s arms.

Ford began to stir next to them, leaning up on his elbows and taking in the room around him, stunned.

“Who…who is that?” Dipper whispered frantically, pointing as the man on the floor rose to his feet.

Before Mabel could answer, there was a pounding series of steps rushing up to the attic, and the door flew open. Stanley Pines stood in the threshold, breathing heavily.

“You’re both back,” his voice rasped, tears glistening in his eyes. “Mabel, Ford…”

She ran to her great uncle, throwing herself into his embrace.

The old man wept. “For thirty one years I waited, I never forgot…thirty one years…”

They both looked up as they heard Ford rise to his feet, bewildered at the sight of his now much-older twin. “Stanley?” he whispered.

Stan took shaky steps toward the center of the room. “It’s me, Ford,” he reached out his arms. “A lot older, but still me…”

Ford choked on his breath and rushed forward, grabbing his brother. “I’m so sorry, I saw it all, what Bill did to you…I couldn’t do anything to stop it!”

Stan let his tears fall onto his brother’s tattered coat. “I waited for more than thirty years, I didn’t even know if you’d make it back…”

Ford pulled back and smiled, glancing down at Mabel. “We both made it,” he nodded.

Dipper looked back and forth between the two men, one seemingly the older version of the other.

“Mabel, who is that?” he whispered to his sister, amazed.

Stan turned to face the younger twins, arm around his brother. “The person I’ve been waiting three decades to meet again,” he said with joy.

“My brother.”

THE END

_____________________________

Author’s Epilogue:

-Bill was ripped from Ford’s body when he began to travel through time.

-The events of the summer still pretty much remain the same leading up to the events of the story. Stan still formed the Mystery Shack to pay his brother’s mortgage and the twins still came to see him in Summer 2012. The older Stan was thrilled when Mabel arrived on his doorstep, but had to constantly remind himself not to bring up the time travel for fear of messing with the timeline and not seeing his brother again.

-Dipper still found a journal, just not in the woods. Ford had written two complete journals and had just started on the third when the events of the story take place. After finding them, Stan hid them throughout the Shack in hopes that no one would question where they came from.

-Fiddleford was able to recover from his injury, but was hit hard when Stan told him of the events that had taken place. He had to get away from Gravity Falls, it was haunted for him. After Ford and Mabel return, Fiddleford comes back to see them for himself.

-Stan kept Mabel’s two drawings pinned up in his room, to remind himself that his time with her and the events that happened were real, and to convince him to keep on going when the days got rough.

-In addition to the drawings, Stan found himself occasionally staring at the scar on his arm that he got defending Mabel in Las Vegas. At one point early on in the summer of 2012, pre-time travel Mabel asks him how he got it and is confused when he can’t answer and leaves the room shaking.

-Ford had to watch, horrified, as Bill was possessing his body. He could do nothing but bear witness as his partner was knocked out, his brother was branded, and his niece was threatened. He realized when she was fighting for control of the tape measure that if she managed to activate it while they were both holding on, that there would be a thin window of opportunity to get back in his own body as Bill was ejected. He managed to.

-Stan has kept a weary eye out for Bill since, getting rid of all of Ford’s relics of the demon. Bill has not made any appearances in three decades, but Stan stays alert…

-The rest of the summer is spent with Stan and Ford reconnecting, the younger twins catching Ford up on thirty years of technology and pop culture, and Mabel knitting matching family sweaters for the four of them.

-Stan still has the scarf that Mabel made for him. It’s worn and threadbare after three decades, but she’s thrilled to see he kept it. Stan and Mabel never really talk about her time with his younger self, but there is a comfortable understanding between them, and Stan is relieved to no longer feel like he’s going crazy, that there’s now another person who remembers the events.

-The town thinks that Ford is just some distant Pines relative; Stan and Ford never really try to convince anyone that they’re brothers. Who would believe them?

-Ford sticks with his brother for years, eventually taking care of him in his old age. He’s thirty years younger than Stan, and that fact eats away at him in the later years.

                                   All is forgiven, all is at peace.