Chapter Text
Dipper had an eyebrow rather permanently raised as Grunkle Stan greeted the newcomer, pushing himself off of the couch on the front porch and looking as happy as when the Shack was super busy and people were paying him lots of money.
The man had driven up to the Shack on a motorcycle, and the back of his leather jacket read “Death Snakes” and had a snake skeleton stitched onto the back of it. Pointy metal studs were sticking out of the lapels and shoulder pads. He had a long beard and smelled like cigarettes.
“Jimmy! Long time no see!”
They actually shared a hug, which wasn’t something Dipper had been expecting. He thought tough guys were against hugging in public - or at all, period.
Dipper was still unsure and suspicious of the newcomer, despite Mabel embracing the visitor with an open mind. Part of it was that it just didn’t feel right. But another part was that Stan was … acting different.
It was a little hard for Dipper to pinpoint what it was exactly.
Stan shared stories of the days where he was a part of the “Death Snakes,” and Stan went all out with the food and was showing cooking skills Dipper and Mabel hadn’t even known that he had had. (Even if Jimmy didn’t seem as appreciative of it as the twins did; Stan acted like it was normal, that that was just how Jimmy was and that he was just joking, but it still didn’t sit right with Dipper. The fresh-baked bread was good.) Then at the end of the day, Jimmy was still there, and Stan was shooing the twins upstairs to bed.
As usual, Dipper couldn’t sleep, so eventually, Mabel was sleeping just fine and Dipper kicked the covers off and tiptoed down the stairs.
He could hear Jimmy and Stan in the living room, and he quietly cursed under his breath. At least they weren’t in the kitchen; that would make it impossible to get a midnight snack. He hoped there was some of that bread still left. But sneaking past them if they were right there in the living room was going to be a little challenging.
Dipper pushed against the wall and peeked into the living room, trying to see when would be a good time to sneak over into the kitchen to make sure he wouldn’t be spotted.
Dipper soon forgot about that as he watched Jimmy Snakes’s arm slide its way around Grunkle Stan’s waist and pull him closer to him on the couch.
“I bet you’re wonderin’ why I showed up all of a sudden.”
“Well, the question did occur to me, especially with, ah, how the last time we saw each other went, but hey, I wasn’t gonna bring it up in front of the kids for, ah, obvious reasons.”
Was Grunkle Stan blushing? Just what was going - ?
“I actually need a favor from ya, Stan.”
“What kind of favor?”
Stan‘s face showed a little bit of disappointment.
“Well, y’see, I made this deal with this really powerful guy, and it wasn’t the best deal, and I need help to get out of it.”
“Deal with who?” Stan asked, eyebrows furrowing. “You being here isn’t putting the kids in danger, is it?”
“That’s a bit rich, coming from you.”
“Hey - !”
Stan made to stand up, but Jimmy grabbed him tightly and made him sit right back down. Stan didn’t resist, but he didn’t look happy either.
“I mean it, if the kids aren’t safe with you here, I want you out!”
“Just hear me out, and if you really want me gone, I can be gone by tomorrow. Just hear me out, okay? You owe me that much, Stan.”
Dipper’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t care what their history was, he didn’t like the sound of this one bit.
Stan relaxed into the couch, but he crossed his arms.
“What is it?”
Jimmy took a deep breath.
“The guy I made the deal with … he was a bad guy. A real, real bad guy. And … I’ve been having to do some terrible things. But I’ve got a shot getting out of it, and I need your help to do it.”
“All right,” Stan said, looking like his usual grumpy self. “What is it I’ve gotta do?”
“You have to agree to help me.”
“I’m not agreeing to nothing until you tell me what it is I’m gonna be doing.”
“Stan, please -”
“I’m not being unreasonable, Jimmy, just tell me what it is before I agree to it! It’s common courtesy!”
Jimmy Snakes stood up by this point and put his hands onto Stan’s shoulders.
“I can’t tell you until you’ve agreed to help me! Please, sweetheart - for me?”
Dipper didn’t have time to question why Jimmy would be calling Stan sweetheart. Stan looked like he was starting to break a little.
“Jimmy -”
“I know I’ve asked for a lot from you in our time together. And I know I didn’t always deserve it. You’ve always been so good to me, Stan, and here I am, making even more demands. But I really, really need your help this time, kitten baby.”
“Dammit, Jimmy….”
Stan sat there in awkward silence, trying to come to a decision.
Dipper didn’t like the sound of Stan agreeing to do something when this guy hadn’t even said what it was yet. And the stitching on the back of Jimmy’s jacket was starting to … move? Oh no.
“Grunkle Stan?” Dipper said, his voice deciding to crack. He stepped out from his hiding place.
Stan pushed Jimmy away from him, causing the biker to stumble, and quickly stood up.
“Dipper! W-what are you doing up?”
“I couldn’t sleep and thought a snack might help. What’re you doing up? Don’t you have a pre-scheduled tour early tomorrow?”
“Y-yeah, I do, you’re right. Uh, c’mon, let’s get you that snack and back to bed with you.”
Dipper made eye contact with Jimmy as Stan crossed the doorway and into the hallway. As Dipper followed Stan, he brought his hand up to his face, pointed at his own eyes with two of his fingers, then pointed those fingers at Jimmy. He then followed Stan into the kitchen, but he did catch a red glowing from Jimmy’s eyes before the man disappeared from view.
No matter what, Dipper was not going to let Grunkle Stan make that deal. Even if he was Jimmy’s … “sweetheart kitten baby.”
It actually took Dipper a while to realize what the nicknames meant.