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A tall, scruffy looking man stood out in the gravity falls cemetery, looming over his tombstone. He had done it. All the cons he'd ran, all the cold Columbian nights, it was all preparing him for this. Stanley pines had successfully faked his own death. He thought more people would've been at his funeral, but he was practically the only person there. A sigh escaped the man's lips. Welp. Life goes on. He had a tourist trap to run and-
"Stanford?"
Stanley tensed, before realising that whoever was behind him wasn't talking to his brother. He quickly cleared his throat and shoved his five-fingered hands into his coat pockets before turning around. Nothing could have prepared him for who he saw. "Ma?" He said softly, in a voice that was closed enough to his brother's. His mother smiled apon seeing him, but the expression didn't quite reach her eyes. The woman had changed since he last saw her, but at the same time had stayed exactly the same. Her hair had begun to gray, a few strands of silver entertained with the rest of her dyed locks, and a few wrinkles had formed on her face. Whether they were from stress of time, he couldn't't tell you. She also looked tired. Really tired. The dress she wore was much more modest than her normal attire, and was of course in black. Stan was pleasantly surprised that even a single member of his family still held a pinch of respect towards him; if his father was here, he'd be decked out in rainbow, practically singing with joy.
His mother began to speak after a long episode of silence, "I thought you lived around here." More silence. Neither knew what to say to eachother.
"Would... you know why he was here?"
Stan didn't know how to respond. He had to think of a lie and quick.
"He, um, came over a few weeks ago. Asking for help. We got into a bit of a fight. I hadn't heard from him before it happened and I only found out the day after ... he.." turning away, Stan began to shake. Must've been colder than he thought. He jolted when his mother placed a hand on his shoulder.
"It was nice of you to put this together. I know you two haven't always gotten along." Stan turned towards his ma to reply, but didn't get a word out before the mother began to tear up.
"Oh my baby please don't cry."
His eyes widened. He had no idea he was crying. He wanted to reassure her, tell her he's fine, but he doesn't want to lie more than he already has. He finds he doesn't fight back when his ma holds his face in her hands and wipes away his tears. He doesn't squirm when she holds him tight in her grasp. Instead, for the first time in years, he let himself properly cry. Screams and wails are ripped from his throat, he holds onto his mom as if she would disappear the moment he let go. His mother shushes him, whispering sweet nothings into his ears.
"It's alright baby, mama's here"
"I miss my brother."
"I miss him too."