Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Grunkle Stan’s Not Happy.

Grunkle Ford startled Mabel a little. Down in the basement, just as Grunkle Stan reached out with open arms toward his brother, Ford’s fist landed square on Stan’s face, making a heavy sound that instinctively made Mabel hide behind Soos.

She’d never seen her family fight before. Until now, she didn’t even know family could fight like that. Sure, she and Dipper would sometimes scuffle, but it was always in fun or to settle who was the “real” older twin. But nothing like Grunkle Ford and Grunkle Stan—no smiles, each punch aiming to hurt. She had never seen that expression on Stan's face, so bewildered, as if something had come crashing down. She realized that Stan wasn’t invincible—he could be hurt.

Even after they finished telling their story, Grunkle Ford still looked angry. When they came up from the basement, Grunkle Stan walked a few steps behind, reassuringly holding Mabel’s hand as he whispered that everything would be okay. In the dim hallway, his smile looked comforting, as if he was sure everything would be fine. The next morning, when they all sat down for breakfast, Ford joined them at the table, and Mabel felt a small thrill. Stan had worked for years to get to this point—having Ford back at the breakfast table, eating as a family. His dream of a complete family had come true.

But Mabel quickly noticed how unusually quiet Stan had become. He didn’t chide Dipper for reading at the table or comment on her feeding Waddles breakfast. When Ford ignored Stan’s questions about pancake flavors, casually steering the conversation toward Dwarven economics, Stan didn’t complain or tease. Instead, he simply turned away and gripped the skillet, as if he wanted to leave and not be seen by anyone.

After that, Grunkle Stan became withdrawn. He spent less time working in the Mystery Shack, lost his zeal for his Mr. Mystery role, and started handing more responsibilities over to Soos. When Wendy asked to leave early, he didn’t protest, even allowing her to cut her shifts short whenever she wanted to hang out with her friends. Yet he didn’t use the extra free time to relax or have fun; instead, he seemed to just sleep and stare off into space. At night, Mabel would catch him wandering around the Shack alone, watching TV by himself. He’d stopped going down to the basement in the evenings, and without something to do, he seemed aimless.

Not even money could lift Uncle Stan’s spirits. It was obvious to everyone—even Sheriff Blubs asked her if anything was up with him since he hadn’t been in town all week. With no one reporting minor thefts or any usual mischief, the townspeople almost seemed lonely.

Dipper, meanwhile, noticed nothing. Aside from mealtimes—when he was mainly worried about his jam splattering on his books—Dipper had his head buried in Ford’s first and second journals. At night, when Mabel lay in bed talking about it, Dipper only seemed puzzled by her concerns. Why would Grunkle Stan be upset about Grunkle Ford? They hadn’t argued, and Ford was joining them at least for breakfast, which had to mean things were fine.

“They’re not fighting,” Dipper said. “Ford has an infinite-dimension microwave down in the basement. He doesn’t even have to come upstairs for meals—he could get anything he wanted with it.” His eyes went dreamy. “It has to be a controllable black hole or something even more advanced. It’s incredible.”

Outside, Grunkle Stan sat on the Shack’s sofa, staring at the forest alone, Ignoring the visitors waiting to be swindled out of their money. She sighed.

Stan was even spending less time at home. One morning, he didn’t even show up to make breakfast. Thankfully, Grunkle Ford came upstairs, complaining a bit about Stan’s “irresponsibility” before grabbing the skillet and taking over. When Mabel asked him about Stan, Ford seemed unconcerned. Aside from breakfast or occasionally throwing out guests, he didn’t know much about Stan’s routines.

“He’s probably just busy with some border business,” Ford remarked casually, patting Mabel’s head before returning to frying the bacon.

Dipper, oblivious to who was cooking, continued reading. So Mabel quietly handed him all the burned bacon, which he ate without looking up.

So if it wasn’t Ford, then why was Stan acting so strange?

Soos was worried too. He told Mabel that Stan had been acting odd lately. The previous weekend, Stan had asked Soos to drive him to town without saying why. The other day, he even saw Stan heading over to Gideon’s place.

What was Grunkle Stan doing at Gideon’s? Was he being blackmailed? Possessed? No sane person would willingly go there, so Stan must’ve lost it.

The mystery unraveled a few days later, when Stan drove back to the Shack in an RV. He parked it on the lawn, came inside for lunch, and called Soos over to clean it. The RV was a bit worn, with a white exterior that was beginning to rust. It was old, definitely secondhand, but big, with floral curtains hanging in the windows.

“Mabel, what do you think of the RV?” he asked.

She turned, glancing at it through the window. “It has character,” she said. “But Grunkle Stan, whose RV is it?”

“Mine,” he replied.

They exchanged a look.

“Alright, but why’d you buy it? You already have a car.”

“Well…” Stan shrugged. “I bought it because I’m planning to leave the Shack.” He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her reaction.

She gasped. “What? You’re leaving?” She jumped off her chair, hugging him tightly. “Grunkle Stan, you can’t leave here! How could you leave the Shack? You can’t go.”

“I’ve made up my mind,” he said.

“But I can’t accept it! The Shack needs you! What are we supposed to do without you? Where would we go on summer vacations?”

Stan comfortingly wrapped his arms around her. “Ford’s still here, so you can always come visit him, right? And Soos and Wendy aren’t going anywhere, so it’s pretty much the same as it was before.”

Mabel clung to him, burying her face in his shirt.

“Without you, it won’t be the same.” Her voice was muffled. “I don’t get it, Grunkle Stan. Why are you leaving?”

Stan patted her back and gazed out at the Shack’s sign.

“Well, I’ve always wanted to travel,” he said. “I saw this great ad about the Grand Canyon the other day. It looked amazing. I just can’t wait to see it! You understand, right?”

“And after you see the Grand Canyon, will you come back?”

“Not right away. I want to see the country, go wherever I can before these old bones give out. Small-town life is just too dull. Your Grunkle needs some excitement.”

“So you’re really saying goodbye to Gravity Falls? Even the Mystery Shack?”

“Yeah, I think I am.”

“Does Soos know?”

“Not yet. And don’t tell him for now, either—I want to keep it a secret for a bit so he doesn’t get too upset.”

“…I’m already upset.” Mabel said quietly. Stan gently stroked her hair, and she clung to him even tighter. “I just don’t understand why you have to leave.”

“There’s still so much I haven’t tried yet. I can’t tie myself down to the Shack forever, right?”

Mabel looked up, her eyes red. “...Maybe,” she admitted reluctantly. “But if you leave, we won’t get to spend vacations together anymore, and I don’t like that.”

Stan looked surprised. “Who says we won’t? With this RV, I can take you all on road trips across the country! Just think: winter down south, summer up in Canada. Mabel, do you like Canada?”

She pouted, thinking it over. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’ve never been to Canada.”

“Well, once I take you, you’ll know. Road trips with family, playing homemade mixtapes, eating snacks, honking at the cars next to us—it’ll be amazing.”

She glanced out at the RV, where Soos was swatting a possum out of the engine. “Will it really be that fun?” she asked skeptically.

“Want to give it a try?” Stan raised his eyebrows.

So they decided to take the RV for a test road trip around a few nearby towns to get a taste of Stan’s future adventures. The Shack would be closed for a few days, and Soos insisted on joining, while Mabel invited Candy and Grenda. But the day before they were set to leave, Mabel realized that Stan hadn’t actually invited Ford to join them.

“But it’s a family road trip!” she protested.

Stan shrugged. “If you can get him to come along, I won’t stop you,” he said, patting his ear and pretending not to hear her, which he kept up until she stomped off.

She went down to the basement, her first time visiting since Ford returned. The room looked different, with new curtains covering parts of the lab. The control room was lined with books, and the microwave Dipper had mentioned was sitting on a shelf. Stan’s family photo had been moved, replaced by a circuit diagram. Ford seemed surprised to see her. Putting down his notes, he turned toward her.

“Mabel, is something wrong? You’re not supposed to be down here. Stan would be disappointed.”

She put her hands behind her back and flashed her sweetest smile. “

Actually, he’s the one who sent me down here,” she said evasively—it wasn’t exactly true, but close enough. “We’re going on a road trip with Grunkle Stan. Do you want to come, Grunkle Ford?”

Ford raised an eyebrow. “A road trip? Now? Why?”

“Grunkle Stan bought an RV! We’re all going on a family trip together. You should come, too, Grunkle Ford. You can even write notes in the RV. Dipper will be thrilled when he finds out you’re coming.”

“He bought an RV?” Ford murmured, looking puzzled. But before Mabel could answer, he shook his head. “No, I’m busy. You all go without me.”

“But it’s a *family* trip! The whole family should go,” Mabel insisted, emphasizing “family,” unable to understand why they didn’t seem to get it.

“Stan will be there with you, right? That should be enough. I’ve got work to do, and I can’t leave here just yet.”

“But Grunkle Stan’s been really down lately. I thought we should keep him company,” she said, hoping to sway him.

Ford hesitated, clearly remembering Stan’s recent behavior, but ultimately just said, “I’m sure he’ll be fine. With such caring nieces and nephews, he won’t stay upset for long.” Then, he turned away, rifling through a cabinet, as Mabel stood there, deflated.

Frustrated, she turned and stomped back toward the stairs.

“Mabel, wait.” Ford called.

She turned back, hoping he’d changed his mind. Instead, he held up a small pouch. “Take this with you. Hang it up in the RV—it’ll ward off any unwanted creatures, especially Ohioan vegetarian vampires. And I noticed Stan hasn’t been eating well. I think he’s probably grumpy from low blood sugar. Make sure he eats, alright?”

She left without saying goodbye. But she couldn’t help it—she was just too mad.

On the day of departure, Dipper was the last one to board. He said Grunkle Ford had called him aside and handed him a few protective charms. He passed them out to everyone, then spent ten minutes rambling about how Grunkle Ford used his magical microwave to make him a twelve-scoop ice cream. Stan rolled his eyes, tossed his charm onto the storage rack, and urged them to get moving.

Grunkle Stan’s RV was indeed spacious, even with all of them inside, there was still plenty of room, and it didn’t feel crowded. Outside, deep green woods blurred by as Candy opened a window to let in the fresh air. Soos sat beside Grunkle Stan, looking at the map, while the girls gathered around the table, seated in the booth.

Grenda had been lying across the seats, enjoying the luxury of being able to stretch out. By the time Mabel was halfway through her story, though, Grenda had sat up, looking serious. When Mabel finished, Candy lowered the brochure she’d been holding.

Placing her pamphlet back on the rack, Candy adjusted her glasses. “Wow, if it’s true, this is huge,” she said.

“Right?” Mabel slumped over in frustration. “But no one listens to me! Only Soos believed me—well, I haven’t told anyone else, but still, this is serious, and we’ve got to do something about it.”

“I think Mabel’s right,” Grenda agreed, glancing at Stan up in the driver’s seat. “Mr. Pines hasn’t seemed happy lately. The last time I invited him to watch TV with us, he said he had work to do, but it was a Tuesday night. What could he have to work on? And didn’t you guys notice, Mr. Pines doesn’t even tell his corny grandpa jokes anymore?”

Mabel gasped, “Oh my gosh, he really hasn’t! I was wondering why breakfast had been so nice and quiet lately! Oh, Grunkle Stan, what’s wrong with you?”

“Maybe Mr. Pines is just tired?” Candy guessed. “From all the signs, it just seems like he’s exhausted. He’s getting older, after all, maybe he just needs more rest.”

They all thought for a moment. Mabel nudged Dipper, who looked up from his journal.

“Not likely,” he said. “The other day, when we were messing around at the Shack and Wendy invited Grunkle Stan to join us, he suddenly said he had taxes to do and left. I went to his room to get a lightbulb and saw he wasn’t doing taxes at all—he was just lying there, staring at the ceiling. I watched him for twenty minutes, and he didn’t move or notice me. He lied to get away from us.”

“That is strange,” Candy said. “Wait, you watched him for twenty minutes?”

“And now he says he’s leaving Gravity Falls, like he hates everything here.” Mabel bit her lip sadly. “I don’t get it. Why would he suddenly want to leave town, so unhappy, just when he finally accomplished all his life goals? What’s going on in his head?”

Grenda spoke up, “I can’t believe Mr. Pines would leave the Mystery Shack—and they’re shutting it down? I grew up seeing tourists bused in every day for the Shack. I can’t imagine this town without Mr. Mystery. And with his brother back too… What about the other Mr. Pines?”

“I don’t think Grunkle Ford knows,” Mabel replied. “Grunkle Stan told me to keep it a secret. Oh, and you guys keep it a secret too.”

“Yeah, the other Mr. Pines,” Grenda said, suddenly struck with an idea. “Mabel, maybe the other Mr. Pines can help him!”

“Grunkle Ford doesn’t think anything’s wrong with Grunkle Stan; he thinks he’s just cranky because he’s hungry.”

“Is Mr. Pines not eating either?” Candy asked.

Mabel nodded, “Lately, he’ll make dinner, but barely touches it before he leaves, especially if Grunkle Ford’s cooking for us. Sometimes he doesn’t even stay.”

“Mabel, Mr. Pines’s strange behavior sounds…” Candy said slowly, “kind of like signs of depression.”

Mabel gasped, “Grunkle Stan would never be depressed!” she said loudly.

In the front seat, Soos turned around to give them a puzzled look.

“Grunkle Stan isn’t sick; he’s a really optimistic person,” she whispered urgently.

Candy didn’t budge. “Depression doesn’t depend on optimism. Besides, depression’s actually pretty common in older adults. I’m not saying Mr. Pines has a mental health issue.”

Mabel looked to Dipper for support. “Dipper, really?”

Dipper didn’t look up. “She’s right. Depression doesn’t depend on personality; it’s like the flu. Anyone can get it.”

Mabel looked like her heart was breaking. Candy added, trying to be reassuring, “But that’s just a theory. Maybe Mr. Pines isn’t depressed; maybe he’s just feeling down. As long as the cause is dealt with, that can go away quickly.”

They exchanged a look.

“Fixing this problem is urgent,” Mabel declared.

They quickly found out what was troubling Grunkle Stan.

Dipper was still buried in Ford’s journal during the trip, ignoring the travel and not even bothering to help sabotage the Mystery Shack’s competitors. To get Dipper away from the books, Stan decided to give him some other lessons—things every teenage boy should learn: how to properly flirt with girls.

He announced, “Every guy girls like has one thing in common: confidence. Dipper, you’re failing with Wendy because you don’t have enough of it.”

“Of course, there’s also money. But at your age, you don’t have to deal with that harsh reality. You’ll learn later.” He added.

Though Dipper was visibly reluctant, Stan insisted he go practice the art of flirting with girls. He confiscated Ford’s journal and placed it on a high shelf, out of Dipper’s reach, taking Dipper’s unwillingness as proof he wasn’t over Wendy. He shooed Soos to the back and made Dipper sit in the passenger seat so he could lecture him on why men shouldn’t be loyal to one girl.

“The best way to get over heartbreak is with another romance! Look at Mabel—she never lets herself get stuck on one guy. She never ties herself to one tree.” Stan thought for a moment. “Maybe Mabel is the only smart one in the Pines family.”

At the logging park, the girls had already dashed off to play. Dipper hesitated, thinking about joining them, but Mabel’s words made sense—he should keep Grunkle Stan company to cheer him up. Reluctantly, he stayed, listening to Stan lecture on why making your crush angry is a good way to build affection.

After a while, to prove his point, Stan successfully flirted with Darlene, the ticket girl. She had lovely blonde hair, tanned skin, and a Miami-beach look that reminded you of sun and sand. She invited Stan to take a walk somewhere private. Darlene was beautiful, with a charming accent, and Stan jumped at the chance. Dipper felt queasy but watched Stan give him a proud thumbs-up, as if to show off his skills.

It was only when they discovered that Darlene was actually a giant spider that they realized their mistake. It took a lot of effort to rescue Stan from her, mostly thanks to Grenda, who knocked Darlene out with one punch, giving them time to get Stan out of the web. Darlene chased them down the mountain until they finally trapped her under a statue’s foot. Beneath the lumberjack statue, she sneered at Stan’s flirting skills.

“With that lousy pickup line, you really thinksomeone would fall for you?” she mocked, her voice shrill as she laughed. “Even after only three hours, I can see right through you—you’re hollow, a liar. You don’t even know yourself. Who would ever love you, your arrogance? Your insecurity? Your broken personality?” She pointed one long-nailed finger at Stan and laughed, the sound echoing through the Widow’s Peak mountains. “Stanley Pines, the one you love doesn’t love you back, and nobody ever will! Nobody will ever love you!”

Dipper gasped. Mabel shoved Stan, shouting up at him, “Grunkle Stan, she’s a liar!” she yelled.

Grunkle Stan just stood there, frozen, staring at Darlene. His jaw was clenched, his fists tight. He looked defeated, staring at her as though he was being judged.

Soos snapped out of it first, pushing Stan’s back, hurrying him away from there. Darlene’s laughter echoed around them, lingering even as they left her crushed under the statue.

On the way back to the RV, Stan apologized to Dipper, admitting that he didn’t actually know anything about the “art” of flirting, that he wasn’t someone women found particularly attractive, and that when it came to love, he’d been a failure his whole life. His tone was so genuine, so raw, that it was hard not to feel sorry for him, because he truly believed every word he was saying. Once they got back to the RV, Stan didn’t say another word. Soos took over the wheel, and Stan leaned against the glass in the passenger seat, falling asleep quickly.

“That lady was so mean. She said all that stuff just to make Grunkle Stan feel bad,” Mabel muttered angrily.

“I don’t get it,” Dipper said, lying back against Ford’s journal. “Even if I didn’t love his advice, it was still useful. I’ve got six girls’ emails now, and they keep messaging me—I don’t even know what to do with them. If Grunkle Stan’s advice was so wrong, I wouldn’t have this problem. Darlene was lying. Why did he believe her?”

“Mr. Pines can be really charming when he wants to be,” Grenda remarked thoughtfully. “It’s amazing—where’d he learn that stuff? I’ve never seen Mr. Pines actually flirt with someone.”

Candy nodded thoughtfully. “Exactly. Mr. Pines never flirts, and he’s never had a real relationship. My mom says he’s one of those people who just cares more about money than love. Why would he suddenly decide to start dating now?”

Sitting there, Mabel blinked, piecing together all of Stan’s recent strange behavior—his gloominess, his sudden decision to leave Gravity Falls, and his relentless lectures to Dipper, all connected by one line he kept repeating.

“You know what the best way to get over a heartbreak is? Another romance!”

All at once, the clues linked up, shedding light on everything they hadn’t understood before.

“Oh my gosh,” she gasped, frantically shaking Dipper’s shoulder. “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh—Grunkle Stan’s heart was broken by someone here in Gravity Falls! That’s why he’s been so down lately!”

Grenda’s eyes widened. “Oh my gosh,” Dipper said slowly, his mind catching up. “Mabel’s right.”

The three shared a look of realization.

Their excited screaming startled Soos so badly that he nearly yanked the steering wheel off, and they swerved right into a pine tree.

Two days later, on a bright morning, Grunkle Stan set down the last batch of pancakes on the table. Mabel glanced over at the elevator, but there was no sign of Ford. It was past nine, so she decided to stop waiting for him—he wasn’t coming up to join them.

“Good morning, Grunkle Stan,” she said, using her sweetest voice.

“What’s up, Mabel?”

“Oh, nothing, Grunkle Stan, I just wanted to chat with you a little.”

Stan gave her a suspicious look. “You never talk like this when you don’t want something.”

Mabel blinked innocently at him. “Can’t your niece just say good morning?”

Stan glanced at Dipper, who didn’t look up from his book. “Give it up, Grunkle Stan,” he mumbled. “You know she always gets what she wants.”

“Mabel, just spit it out,” Stan said, already looking tense.

Mabel took a deep breath. “Okay, here’s the thing. Remember how I told you that my biggest dream this summer was to become a successful matchmaker?”

“Yeah, I remember. You said it about twenty times at Gompers and Waddles’ wedding. Why?”

“Grunkle Stan, um, actually, I was thinking, maybe I could—uh…”

“Mabel, just say it,” he interrupted.

"Can I—could I, you know, try setting you up again?”

He blinked. “Again?” Stan said loudly. “Kid, give your Grunkle a break! I’m way too old to be dragged into dating by an eleven-year-old girl.”

“Grunkle Stan, I’m twelve now!”

“Can’t you just keep matching up the non-human folks?”

“It’s not as fun. Last time I tried to set up the gnomes, they stole my socks! And the worst part? I found out they were siblings! I wasted my time! I want to set you up, Grunkle Stan! Last time I tried with Lazy Susan, it didn’t work. I need redemption!”

“Sweetie, no one’s keeping track of your ‘matchmaker record.’”

“Well, I am! There’s nothing more wonderful than watching love bloom.”

“Then go read a romance novel. Your Grunkle is way too old for that.”

“Romance novels are all ridiculous misunderstandings and people yelling at each other, only to end with the guy grabbing the girl, kissing her passionately, and the girl, who previously had every right to reject him, just suddenly forgives him. It makes no sense. Romance novels are boring. I want to see you kiss someone passionately, Grunkle Stan.”

“Oh!” he exclaimed. “Is that something a little girl should be saying?”

Mabel gave him a pitiful look. “Please, Grunkle Stan, I swear it’ll be the last time I ask for anything this summer! I just have this one wish: let me find you a match. Let me find you love. If you don’t let me, I’ll never be happy again.”

“I’m leaving Gravity Falls soon anyway. What’s the point of you setting me up with someone here?”

“You never know if there’s a point until you try, Grunkle Stan.”

Stan sat down, resting one hand on the table, sighing. “Mabel, don’t you think I’m a little too old to be thinking about love?”

“Nonsense! No one is ever too old to find love. And you did like Lazy Susan, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I did—uh, I thought I might,” Stan admitted, looking embarrassed. “But that wasn’t love. I just wanted to give it a shot, you know? Try something different, see how it went. I’m satisfied with being single; if I weren’t, I wouldn’t be single now, would I?”

“You mean you don’t like dating? Then why did you try flirting with Darlene?” Mabel asked, confused.

“Flirting and dating are one thing, but love is another,” he said. “I just don’t think relationships are worth the effort. It takes a lot of time, and I’m busy. I don’t have time to commit to someone. Women are complicated; the stuff they like doesn’t interest me. I’d rather be out doing things guys do, fishing, or watching sports.”

“But you have fallen in love before, right? I mean, not like Lazy Susan or Darlene—something serious, with butterflies in your stomach. Maybe recently?”

“When I was forty, I married my ex-wife in Vegas. We got divorced a day later. Failed love. Aside from that… I remember loving a woman once. She was a librarian, a Southern girl with glasses. If you looked closely, she was actually very pretty. To this day, I don’t know why she agreed to go out with me. That must’ve been when I was in my twenties,” Stan thought for a moment. “Wow… it’s been so long. Time flies.”

“So, in Gravity Falls, Grunkle Stan, in all the thirty years you’ve been here, you haven’t loved anyone?”

“No.”

“Grunkle Stan, this is a safe space,” Mabel raised her eyebrows. “You can tell us the truth. Dipper and I won’t tell a soul.”

“Mabel, really, no one. I’ve been too busy—running the Shack during the day, figuring out how to save your Grunkle Ford at night. I’ve had a lot to do; I didn’t have time to fall in love.”

Mabel looked thoroughly unconvinced.

“Well, if you don’t want to tell us, you don’t have to,” she said skeptically, studying him. “But now that Grunkle Ford is back, you’ve got time to focus on yourself. You bought that RV to go see the Grand Canyon! Now, you’re the priority. So let me find you someone to date!”

This seemed to resonate with Stan. He thought about it and said, “You know what, Mabel? You’ve got a point. Since I don’t have to worry about saving that knucklehead anymore, I’ve got plenty of time and energy for myself. I finally have time to do things I enjoy

. Mabel, you’ve convinced me. Go ahead and find me a love interest.”

“Really? That’s great!” Mabel hugged him, overjoyed at his agreement. After a while, once she’d calmed down, she looked up and asked, “So, Grunkle Stan, what’s your type?”

Stan scratched his head awkwardly. “I don’t really know. I’ve never met a woman I particularly liked. They all seem the same to me.”

Mabel nodded thoughtfully. “Let’s start with the basics, Grunkle Stan. Do you prefer tall women or short women?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Do you like gentle women or women with a strong personality?”

“Gentle, but a bit of personality would be nice, too. Adds some excitement.”

“So would a gentle woman with a bit of personality make you want to marry her?”

“Oh, no! Your Grunkle Stan is a free spirit, kid.”

Mabel frowned, chewing her thumb. “I don’t get it. Dipper, what do you think?”

Dipper looked up. “Sounds like he’s a soloist.”

“A soloist?” Stan asked. “What’s that?”

“It means someone who doesn’t want to be in a romantic relationship.”

Mabel turned to him, “Grunkle Stan, are you a soloist?”

“Oh no, definitely not. I know I’m not… well, it’s hard to explain, but I know I’m not.”

“Maybe we should widen the scope,” Mabel mused, “Grunkle Stan, how do you feel about dating a man?”

Stan blinked in shock. “A man?”

“Yeah, a man. Men can date men now, you know?” Dipper informed him.

“I know men can date men, but that’s… unusual. You shouldn’t talk about that; people might say things.”

Mabel drew a deep breath, “Grunkle Stan, it’s not unusual at all! No one thinks there’s anything weird about it anymore. They’re just regular people looking for love.”

Stan gave her a skeptical look. “Really?”

“No one has a problem with Officers Blubs and Durland being together. Do you think they’re unusual?”

“Those two dummies are just friends.”

“Yeah, ‘friends,’” Mabel said, making air quotes. “Friends who live together.”

“Oh,” Stan said slowly, considering this, “Oh… wow.”

Stan still looked half-convinced. “The world’s getting weirder and weirder,” he muttered.

Mabel studied him. “Grunkle Stan, what if I find you a nice guy?”

“What? I don’t want to date a guy.”

“But you said you didn’t want to date a woman, either. You said they’re boring. You’d rather do ‘manly things’ with a guy. You could go play pool together as a date! Isn’t that what you want?”

Stan opened his mouth, but no words came out.

“Here’s an idea,” Dipper sighed, “Grunkle Stan, imagine you’re kissing a guy.”

Stan thought about it, his face growing awkward. “I, uh… well, I’m not sure what to say.”

“It’s settled, then!” Mabel clapped her hands excitedly. “Grunkle Stan, I, Mabel Pines, will find you the perfect guy!”

She skipped away, leaving Stan sitting there, looking defeated.

Beside him, Dipper took a bite of his pancake. “Told you, she always gets what she wants.”

Chapter Text

Finding a suitable man was harder than Mabel imagined.

First, she considered all the acquaintances in town. There weren’t many single men around Uncle Stan’s age; just Tyler Cutebiker , Toby Determined, and Fiddleford McGucket.

Tyler Cutebiker was Stan’s competitor and had successfully defeated him to become the town’s mayor. Stan was a very competitive man, so dating someone who had beaten him wouldn’t appeal to him.

Fiddleford had a good personality, and he was sincere. He already had a close relationship with them, which was a plus. But he had been married, had a son, and was an engineer. Stan had once mentioned that he didn’t like scientists because they were always condescending, talking about things like “you can’t plug extra power strips into an adapter”—too much hassle.

As for Toby—oh, forget it. Nobody liked a person with such a antisocial personality.

So, she decided on another method: stopping every passerby on the street to ask if they were single. This plan quickly turned into a disaster; the first twenty people refused to answer, and then people began to avoid her. Eventually, Officers Blubs and Durland showed up, informing Mabel that someone had reported a little girl harassing people on the street.

After listening to Mabel’s explanation, Officer Blubs nodded understandingly. “That’s really touching; you’re a good kid. I always thought Stanford should find someone. He’s been single all this time, and that’s not ideal. And there’s nothing more heartwarming than watching love bloom.”

Mabel’s eyes filled with hope.

“—But you need a different approach, Mabel; you can’t just grab someone off the street to check them off the list. That’s not how you find a good man, and, Mabel, you’re scaring people. See, even Officer Durland doesn’t dare come near you.” He pointed to Durland, hiding behind him, shaking his head.

At that moment, she felt utterly hopeless. She dropped to her knees and raised her hands. “Why?” Mabel cried. “Isn’t there a good man in this town of 2,000 people—someone around fifty to seventy, owns a house, has money, a good personality, likes jokes, can tolerate snoring, is single, and loves kids?!”

“Oh, young lady.” A pair of clean Oxford shoes stopped beside her, interrupting her cry.

She looked up and saw a man with dark brown hair, glasses, a shirt, and a tweed jacket looking down at her. He seemed amused by her.

“Pardon my curiosity. I just couldn’t help but wonder, what drives a charming young lady like yourself to make such a desperate plea in the middle of the street?” he asked.

Mabel gasped.

“James is just perfect! He likes kids, has never married, and came out as gay in his twenties. He’s dated men before, knows how to date men, and was with his last partner for eight years until they broke up. He used to live in England, moved to take care of his mother when she got sick, and only came to the U.S. after both parents passed away. So, he doesn’t have many close friends or family here, and his accent is perfect. He loves outdoor activities, enjoys romance movies, and isn’t shy about it. He’s a pharmacist, so he’s smart, but not so smart that it would intimidate Grunkle Stan. He and Grunkle Stan are made for each other!”

Mabel sat on the cash register, chattering excitedly.

It was afternoon, and the shop was empty. Soos was cleaning, and Wendy sat beside Mabel, listening. Dipper was absent, saying Grunkle Ford needed help with an experiment. Ford had been in the basement for forty hours straight, and Dipper for eighteen. No one knew what Ford was working on; Mabel suspected they might just be playing games.

“And he even bought me ice cream and stickers,” she said happily, pointing to her cheek. “Look! It’s puffy, has glitter inside, and moves around, like those snow globes!”

“Wow, James really does sound perfect.” Soos sighed dreamily.

Stan stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his bowtie. “Soos, cut it out,” he said, a little red-faced.

Wendy smirked. “Yeah, Mr. Pines, sounds like James is perfect. Plus, he’s a pharmacist; he can get you all the prescription meds you want, so no more stealing—endless painkillers and ether for life.”

“Wendy, stop exaggerating.”

“You never know,” Mabel said. “I have a feeling, Grunkle Stan, that you’re about to find your perfect match.”

“You’re putting pressure on me.” Stan sighed, undoing his bowtie to try again. “I’ve never, uh, dated a man before. I don’t know what I should do. What if he realizes I don’t know anything?”

Mabel hopped off the counter, walked to Stan, and made him crouch. As she helped him with his bowtie, she said, “Grunkle Stan, there’s nothing to worry about! You’re a very charming person. And, James told me he likes straight guys. I told you, you two are a great match.”

Stan raised an eyebrow. “He told you that?”

“Not voluntarily. I’m an expert interrogator; I’m good at getting people to tell the truth.” She smiled proudly.

Stan sighed, frowning rather than smiling, looking a bit downcast.

“No one here can tell you what to do, Mr. Pines, because none of us are experienced gay men, unless Soos has some secrets he hasn’t told us,” Wendy glanced at Soos, who shook his head. “So, none of us have a clue. But I think Mabel’s right—just relax. If you don’t know how to date a man, start by becoming friends. That’s how most straight people do it.”

Stan nodded hesitantly. Mabel stepped back, admiring her work. “Now, go meet James in town and bravely pursue love on behalf of your niece!” she said, patting Stan with a firm hand.

Stan walked off, deep in thought.

“So, uh,” Wendy said, “can someone explain to me exactly what’s going on here?”

According to Mabel, Grunkle Stan and James’s date was set for six o’clock. They planned to have dinner, then call it a night because, being older, they preferred an early bedtime. But by eight, Grunkle Stan hadn’t returned. Mabel kept looking out the window until nine, but there was no sign of his red car.

Wendy had gone home, Soos had left, and Dipper and Ford were still in the basement, leaving the shop empty. At ten, Stan quietly walked in, trying not to wake anyone, but the lights flicked on, startling him. Mabel stepped out from behind the wall.

“Grunkle Stan!” She raised an eyebrow. “Look who’s coming home at ten! You’d usually be asleep for the second time by now. Did you have fun?”

Stan grinned, surprised. “Actually, yes, I had a great time. I planned to come home earlier, but we kept talking. I didn’t even realize it was this late.”

Mabel clutched her chest. “Oh, this is so romantic! Kindness really pays off; heaven answered my prayers. This is the best thing that happened to me this summer! Do you like him?”

“He’s very smart and knows a lot. Talking to him was enjoyable.”

“Does he like you?” she asked eagerly.

“Well, I don’t know; I didn’t ask.” Uncle Stan suddenly looked a bit nervous. “It’s been so long. I don’t remember how to date. We had a great time, but I’m not sure if he has any—well, I don’t know what he thinks. Maybe we’ll just be friends. Are you disappointed?”

“Well, were you happy tonight?”

“Happy.”

Mabel hugged her great-uncle. “Then that’s all that matters,” she said.

The next morning, Grunkle Stan was up earlier than usual. When Mabel walked into the kitchen yawning, Grunkle Stan was already making breakfast. He was frying eggs, the sizzling sound and delicious aroma filling the room.

“Good morning, Mabel.”

“Good morning, Grunkle Stan,” Mabel said, watching him cook. He seemed much more relaxed than before, at least not his usual frowning self.

“How did you sleep?” Grunkle Stan asked, setting a plate of food in front of her.

“It was kind of boring,” Mabel said. “Dipper hasn’t come up from the basement, so I had to sleep alone.”

“He sure loves science, doesn’t he?” Stan said nonchalantly.

“I don’t get Dipper at all.”

“You don’t get why he likes all that nerdy stuff?”

“I get that he likes science. He’s loved reading since he was little. But what I don’t understand is how he can be so obsessed with it that he can skip fun, food, and sleep, like nothing else matters,” she pouted, “including us.”

Stan paused. “Well, everyone has their own pursuits. You know he cares about you, and that’s enough.”

“Grunkle Stan, do you know what they’re working on down there?”

“Something about alien communication technology, I think. He mentioned it to me the other day, but I didn’t really listen; it’s not my thing.”

Mabel sat up straighter. “I thought Grunkle Ford didn’t talk to anyone?”

“Well, we’re brothers, aren’t we? Of course we talk to each other; it’s not like we’re enemies.” He turned away. “It’s just that I don’t matter as much as other things, that’s all.”

Mabel looked at him in confusion. “Does Grunkle Ford know you’re planning to leave Gravity Falls?”

“He does.”

“Is he going to travel with you?”

“No.”

“So… you’re going to say goodbye again?”

Stan shrugged.

Mabel slumped over, sighing. “I don’t understand you guys at all.”

Stan smiled as he turned and scooped the scrambled eggs onto her plate. “Then don’t try to figure it out,” he said. “Just eat.”

Stan’s cooking was excellent, and Mabel devoured a big plate of scrambled eggs with toast and drank a full glass of Mabel juice. Although Stan still didn’t look particularly cheerful, at least he wasn’t as downcast. When Mabel started talking about why Ducktective was better than any human detective, he even joined in the conversation. Just as her excitement was peaking, the phone in the lounge rang.

They exchanged a glance.

“Do you know whose phone that is?” Mabel asked.

Stan shook his head.

Mabel set down her fork and jumped off her stool, walking over to the phone. By the time she reached it, the call had ended, but a few seconds later, it rang again.

It was James calling.

“James!” Mabel said excitedly. “Good morning! Mr. James, what brings you to call us?”

“Good morning, Mabel,” James said. “Are you home alone?”

“Nope, I’m having breakfast with Grunkle Stan.”

“I see.”

They paused for a moment. “May I ask what this call is about?” she asked.

“It’s about your Grunkle Stan.”

James’s tone was hard to read over the phone. “Oh,” she said, recalling Grunkle Stan’s usual behavior around others. “Did he… do something?”

“This is a bit embarrassing,” James said, making Mabel’s heart sink. “We had such a good time chatting yesterday that I forgot to get Stan’s phone number; all I have is the contact number you gave me. I just wanted to let him know I had a wonderful time last night and see if he’d like to go out again. Could you ask him to call me back on this number? I’ll be ready to answer right away.”

“Oh,” Mabel blinked. “Oh! That’s so sweet!”

“To be honest, Stan is one of the most charming people I’ve met. He’s truly wonderful. Do you think he’d agree?”

“He absolutely would! Since he got back last night, he hasn’t stopped talking about you.”

“Really?” James sounded a bit flattered.

“Absolutely. I’m sure he’d love to go out with you again. Just to confirm, you mean a date, not just hanging out as buddies, right?” she asked. After getting a positive answer, she put down the receiver excitedly. “Grunkle Stan! Grunkle Stan!” she yelled, running back to the dining room. “James is totally smitten with you! He wants to know if you’d go on a second date!”

She bumped right into Grunkle Ford.

“What?” he said.

Dipper sat at the table, listlessly poking at his eggs. His hair was a mess, with dark circles under his eyes, and he had a distinct smell. Grunkle Ford didn’t look much better. Though he wasn’t as disheveled, his dark circles were even deeper than Dipper’s, and there was oil on his sleeves. He was holding a half-eaten piece of toast and a cup of coffee, looking down at her with a puzzled expression, as if she had suddenly transformed into some rare creature worth studying.

“‘James wants to know if you’d like to go on a second date,’” he repeated slowly. “What?”

“Uh, I—” Mabel took a step back, suddenly realizing that no one had told Grunkle Ford about Grunkle Stan’s date. She wasn’t sure if it was intentional on Grunkle Stan’s part, so she glanced at him nervously. Grunkle Stan abruptly lowered his head, gripping his fork tightly and staring determinedly at his eggs.

Grunkle Ford stood there, motionless. He looked around, as if hoping someone would provide an explanation. Dipper absentmindedly prodded his scrambled eggs, and Grunkle Stan still refused to look up. So he turned back to Mabel.

“James wants to date Stanley.”

“Um… yes,” she answered cautiously.

“James… that’s a man’s name.”

“Is there a problem, Grunkle Ford?”

“But—” he said, looking at Grunkle Stan. “This means—”

He frowned slightly, his expression hard to decipher. Before Grunkle Ford could say anything more, Mabel interrupted impulsively. “It was my idea for Grunkle Stan to go on a date. I just thought he should try something new; it doesn’t mean—”

“Yes,” Grunkle Stan lifted his head, “I’m dating a man. So what?” He stared at Grunkle Ford defiantly.

Grunkle Ford opened his mouth, then looked away, thinking.

“Are we sure he’s not an evil minion possessed by Bill?” he asked.

Grunkle Stan gave a bitter laugh, stood up, and left the table with his breakfast.

Mabel sighed and climbed back into her seat next to Dipper. Grunkle Ford lowered his gaze to his coffee cup, as if noticing it for the first time.

Grunkle Ford stayed in the shack all afternoon. Though he had been back for three weeks, this was Wendy’s first time seeing him. He slipped into the shop quietly, looking particularly reluctant as he glanced around, staring at the fake monster specimens and pacing around. Every time a visitor came in exclaiming how amazing the place was, he would sigh, looking as though he was reaching his limit.

“That mermaid specimen is completely biologically inaccurate. Monkeys and fish are entirely different taxonomic groups, with distinct anatomy, skeletal structures, and physiology. Simply stitching their body parts together to create a specimen lacks any scientific basis and goes against biological principles. If Stanley wants to make a fake mermaid, he could at least put more effort into it. This is just laziness and deception,” he grumbled to Soos as he passed by.

After scaring off yet another kid who called him “Mr. Mystery,” Wendy closed her magazine. “This isn’t going to be good for business,” she whispered to Mabel.

“Uh, Ford—Grunkle Stan?” Mabel called, greeting him. “I’ve never seen you in the shack at this time. Is there something you need?”

Grunkle Ford set down the bobblehead in his hand. “I’m looking for Stanley,” he said.

Mabel looked around the shop. “Grunkle Stan isn’t here.”

“Oh. Uh, is he… on a date?” he asked, hesitating over the word “date,” clearly uncomfortable with it.

Wendy narrowed her eyes, watching him. “Mr. Pines is taking a nap,” she told Grunkle Ford.

“Oh.” He stood there, unmoving.

“Anything else we can help you with, Mr. Ford?” Wendy asked.

He glanced around. “I suppose not,” Grunkle Ford said slowly, then turned and walked out.

The next day, Grunkle Ford was on time for breakfast and showed up again at lunchtime. He made lunch, drank a glass of Mabel’s homemade Mabel Juice, and chatted with her, offering a few suggestions to improve the taste. Grunkle Stan sat beside them, occasionally interjecting to defend Mabel’s original recipe. They talked and ate. Everything seemed normal; there didn’t appear to be any issues.

Except, in reality, everything was not okay.

That evening, Stan drove away from the shack. A minute later, Grunkle Ford walked out of the shack, sitting on the couch out back, watching as the red car disappeared into the distance.

“I don’t get them. I really don’t understand what’s going on,” Mabel said, standing in the attic, looking down at Grunkle Ford as he stared into the distance. “It’s obvious they’re both affected by all this, but they choose to pretend nothing happened, letting it keep bothering them. Why?”

Dipper was fiddling with a part he’d brought up from the basement, lying on the floor as he studied it and took notes. “Maybe they’re not affected by it,” he said absentmindedly.

Mabel tapped the glass. “This isn’t being affected?” she asked, pointing to Grunkle Ford below, who was sitting with a bottle of Pit Cola, staring at the forest. “When was the last time you saw Grunkle Ford just standing outside?”

“Five days ago, when he asked me to go with him to dismantle parts from the alien ship.”

“When it wasn’t for work?”

“Never.”

“Never.” She repeated. “Grunkle Ford, who’s always busy with work, has been wandering around the shack these last couple of days. And Grunkle Stan’s been in a worse mood these past two days than he was before he went on a date with James. Soos said Stan yelled at him about the placement of the T-shirts, then immediately apologized and left. Grunkle Stan actually apologized. When has he ever apologized? I think Grunkle Ford’s reaction at breakfast really hurt him.”

“Why don’t they just talk about it? I don’t understand,” Mabel said, walking away from the window. “If you told me you were going to date a boy, I’d just ask for his Facebook and make you introduce us. I wouldn’t say anything negative; what’s the big deal?”

“Ford and Grunkle Stan are from a different time. Back then, orientation was a much more serious matter.”

“I don’t even think Grunkle Stan is gay. He’s dated women before, right? I think he said it just to annoy Grunkle Ford. Maybe he’s bi or something.”

“Maybe.”

“Even if he is and Grunkle Ford doesn’t like it, so what? They’re brothers. Brothers don’t hate each other. I’m sure you’ll do something dumb in the future, but just thinking about not being able to talk to you makes me feel sad. No matter what you do, I’d forgive you. I believe you’d accept my life unconditionally, too. Aren’t they the same? I believe whatever’s going on between them will get better if they just talk it out. There’s no hatred in family.”

“Not necessarily,” Dipper mumbled, biting his pencil as he examined a strangely shaped piece of metal.

“Not necessarily?”

“I don’t think I’m suited to be an engineer,” Dipper said thoughtfully. “I thought this was a nail, but now I think it’s a connector. What is this?”

“Dipper!”

Dipper jumped and looked up.

“You just said ‘not necessarily.’ What do you mean?”

“Uh,” he thought for a moment, “oh. Grunkle Ford said they’d already been fighting.”

“What? When?”

“When he first came back.”

“Did Grunkle Ford say what they were fighting about?”

“He doesn’t know what they’re fighting about.”

“He doesn’t know what they’re fighting about? Then how does Grunkle Ford know they’re fighting?”

“Actually, before we were about to leave on our road trip, Grunkle Ford brought it up to ask if I knew anything. He said Grunkle Stan hasn’t been treating him kindly, and you said Grunkle Stan’s been in a bad mood. So he knows they’re fighting, but since they haven’t really argued, he doesn’t know why Grunkle Stan’s unhappy.”

“And then?”

“I said I didn’t know either, so he didn’t ask again.”

“You knew they were actually fighting all this time, but you didn’t tell me? You came back telling us about twelve-scoop ice cream instead?”

“Uh, was it important?”

Mabel thought back to the day after Grunkle Ford returned, seeing how tired Grunkle Stan looked, like he hadn’t slept all night. It seemed that was when he’d started being down.

“So that’s why Grunkle Stan’s been in a bad mood lately? Not because of a breakup? Have I been guessing wrong this whole time?”

Dipper shrugged. “But Grunkle Stan’s been a bit happier these past few days, right? Plus, James lives in town, which helps with your goal of getting Grunkle Stan to stay in Gravity Falls.”

“He’s happier, but not enough,” she said, frowning. “Not nearly enough. My goal is for Grunkle Stan to be happy. He’s still not happy—he’s fighting with his brother. How could he be happy? Dipper, do you think we should help Grunkle Ford and Grunkle Stan reconcile?”

“If I say we shouldn’t, would you listen?”

Mabel nodded. “Good point.”

She thought for a moment. “To be safe, let’s keep observing and then decide when we should step in.”

Dipper grunted, jotting down something in his notebook. Mabel turned on the room’s light, then flopped onto her soft bed and turned on the radio. Waddles kissed her, and she giggled, hugging him tight. “Maybe we’re overthinking this. They’ll work it out themselves,” she murmured, snuggling into her cool, soft sheets, deciding to nap before dinner.

Outside, the wind swept through the forest, pine needles softly rustling, and the sky grew dark. In the distance, the Greasy Diner sign lit up. Grunkle Ford got up and walked back into the shack.

Mabel didn’t know when Grunkle Stan had come back, but it must have been late because she hadn’t heard him come in before she went to sleep.

The next day, when they came downstairs, both Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford were already in the kitchen. Grunkle Stan was frying pancakes, and Grunkle Ford was fixing a lightbulb.

“Good morning, Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford,” they said. Grunkle Stan waved a hand behind his back to show he’d heard, while Grunkle Ford looked down at them, nodded, and said, “Good morning, Dipper and Mabel.”

Dipper hopped onto a stool, clutching his book, and began reading. Mabel sat there, watching Grunkle Ford replace an old, worn-out socket. “Grunkle Ford, I’ve noticed you’ve been hanging around the shack a lot these days. Did you finish all your work in the lab?” she asked.

“Work in the lab is never truly finished,” he said, pausing. “But the portal’s mostly dismantled, and the rest can wait. I noticed the shack’s electrical system has some major issues, and a lot of things are outdated, so I decided to take a few days to work on repairs around here.”

“Start with that broken freezer you bought ages ago. It can’t keep anything cold. I’d cool things faster just by blowing on them,” Grunkle Stan said lightly, setting down a big stack of pancakes as he took a seat.

Grunkle Ford stepped down from his stool, turned to grab a stack of plates and forks from the cabinet, and handed them out. He sat down beside Grunkle Stan, taking a few pancakes. “Alright,” he replied, passing the syrup to Stan. “Anything else?”

“The diesel generator’s busted, too.”

“I used it last week. It works.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Fine, I’ll check it later,” Grunkle Ford told Grunkle Stan, then looked down and started eating his breakfast.

Everything still seemed perfectly normal. Mabel narrowed her eyes, studying them carefully.

Chapter Text

A few days later, everything seemed to settle down. Grunkle Stan had shortened the Mystery Shack’s business hours, and by now, everyone had mostly adjusted to the new schedule. Grunkle Ford stayed upstairs, working on renovations and occasionally chatting with everyone. He spent time fixing things with Soos, teaching him about mechanics, and Soos admired him more than ever. Meanwhile, Grunkle Stan started packing up his belongings around the Shack, wandering here and there. Occasionally, he and Grunkle Ford crossed paths. They exchanged a few words now and then, but more often than not, they just stole a glance at each other’s backs when the other wasn’t looking, without saying anything.

One afternoon, Mabel finally got a chance to speak with Grunkle Stan alone in the living room. She leaped out from behind the door. “Grunkle Stan!” she shouted.

Stanley, holding the phone receiver, jumped in fright. “Mabel! Don’t do that—you almost gave your Grunkle a heart attack!”

Mabel smiled sweetly. “Okay. Grunkle Stan, what are you up to? Why are you being so sneaky?” she asked, grinning.

“I’m about to make a call.”

“To who? Is it James?”

Stanley hesitated, then reluctantly nodded.

“Oh, that’s so romantic!” She clasped her hands to her cheeks. “Are you two officially dating now?”

“What? No. We’re just… going out.”

“Talking on the phone like middle schoolers—you’re totally head over heels in love!”

“No, not like middle schoolers, and no, I’m not head over heels,” Stanley declared. “James is out of town, in Minnesota, so we’re just keeping in touch.”

“How many times have you called him in the past two days?”

“Twice.”

“Grunkle Stan, you’re completely smitten! Even Cupid would have to admit you’re officially in love.”

“Twice is a lot?” Stanley looked at her, confused.

“Not for most people, but for you? That’s a ton.”

Stanley looked a bit nervous. “Maybe. I guess,” he admitted. “It’s just… I’ve been feeling stressed, alright? The Shack, the monsters, that triangle thing messing with people’s minds—it’s all a bit much. It’s nice to talk to someone normal, someone who isn’t tangled up in magic and conspiracies.”

“When he gets back, will you keep seeing him?”

“Maybe. I think so.”

“Does that mean you’ll give up your travel plans?” Mabel asked hopefully. “Maybe just go for a couple of months, then come back, sell the RV, and stay in town to date James?”

“Travel plans?” Stanley blinked. “Oh, you mean the Grand Canyon. Maybe I’ll stay in town; I’m not sure. But I’m definitely not selling the RV.”

“Why not? Are you still planning to leave? Grunkle Stan, long-distance relationships don’t work! Plus, if you stay in town, I can visit every vacation and join you and James on your dates! You haven’t invited me yet, but I’m sure you will.”

Stanley squinted at her. “Mabel, did you set me up with James just to get me to stay in town?”

“Maybe,” she said, looking away. “Is it working?”

“Well…” Stanley scratched his head, looking around awkwardly. “I guess it’s time I told you the truth. I lied to you before because I was worried you’d take it badly or start judging your Grunkle Ford. But I’ll come clean now, so you don’t try anything else like this. But you absolutely cannot tell Soos, got it? He’d lose it.”

Mabel hesitated but nodded.

“About me leaving the Shack,” Stanley said, sighing. “It wasn’t my decision. It was your Grunkle Ford’s. The night he came back, he told me he wanted his name and his house back. You know, he’s never liked the Mystery Shack, and the shop has to close. Once your summer vacation ends, I’ll be leaving too. That’s why I bought the RV—so I’d have somewhere to go.”

Mabel blinked. “Grunkle Ford is kicking you out?!” she asked loudly. Stanley quickly clapped a hand over her mouth. “Shh, keep it down! Don’t let anyone hear that.”

Mabel bit down hard on his hand, and he yelped, letting go. “Grunkle Ford is kicking you out?” she hissed. “How could he do that?”

“Well, it’s his house and his life.”

“Why would you agree to it?”

“He doesn’t like all the conning and trickery. I never asked for his permission to open the Shack. If he wants his life back, I have to respect that.”

“But you did all of this to save him! You spent thirty years bringing him back, and now he’s kicking you out the moment you do?”

“People see things differently, Mabel.”

“I can’t believe this,” she said. “I thought Grunkle Ford was a good guy—a little nerdy, sure, like an old version of Dipper, but Dipper would never do this!”

“Your Grunkle Ford *is* a good guy,” Stanley said firmly, pausing for emphasis. “You know he cares about you. This is just an issue between us grown-ups—it’s got nothing to do with you. Don’t let it bother you, okay?”

Mabel shook her head. “I can’t accept this. It’s too unfair,” she said, then stormed out of the room.
"I’ve been trying so hard to cheer up Grunkle Stan all this time, but the one who’s been making him sad has been right here with us,” Mabel said.

“That seems a bit extreme,” Dipper replied.

“Right here with us! Every morning, he sits at the breakfast table, reminding us he’s the rightful owner of this house.”

“I’m pretty sure Grunkle Ford is just here for the food.”

“He’s been hanging around the Shack a lot lately. I thought it was because he wanted to make up with Grunkle Stan, but all along, he’s been planning to kick him out,” Mabel said, gasping. “Is that why he’s been renovating the Shack? So he can write his name on every single wire?”

“Mabel, you’re exaggerating,” Dipper said.

Mabel stopped pacing in the middle of the attic. She turned and glared at Dipper. “Grunkle Stan is about to be kicked out of the Shack, and you’re calling me exaggerative?”

Wendy, quick to act, reached out and held Mabel back before she could storm over to Dipper. “Whoa there, little tiger. Calm down,” Wendy said.

“I just think there’s a misunderstanding,” Dipper said defensively. “It doesn’t make sense. Grunkle Ford wouldn’t do something like that.”

“A misunderstanding?” Mabel pointed out the window. “Grunkle Stan even bought an RV!” she said, her anger giving way to sadness. “Grunkle Stan can’t live in an RV forever just because he has nowhere else to go. That’s so unfair. We have to do something.”

“A protest? A parade?” She pondered. “What’s the quickest news station we can get in touch with?”

“Mabel, Grunkle Stan isn’t going to be homeless,” Dipper said. “If it comes to it, we can bring him back to California. Mom and Dad won’t say no—they like Grunkle Stan. Now calm down. Let’s think this through. I just have a feeling there’s some kind of misunderstanding here.”

“What kind of misunderstanding could there possibly be?”

“I don’t think Grunkle Ford would do that to Grunkle Stan. He really cares about him, I can tell. And he’s not the type to pretend to care about someone he doesn’t like. Neither of them are.”

“But he’s still kicking Grunkle Stan out of his home,” Mabel said, her frustration growing again. “We have to do something!”

“What do you want to do?” Wendy asked.

“Yell at him, tell him he’s a terrible person, make him regret his decision… or something. I don’t know! But we can’t just let Grunkle Ford kick Grunkle Stan out!”

Wendy exchanged a look with Dipper. Dipper shook his head. “I still don’t think Grunkle Ford would do this,” he said hesitantly.

“Wendy, let’s call Candy and Grenda. We can figure something out together.”

“Mabel, actually, I think Dipper might be onto something,” Wendy said.

Mabel froze. “What?”

“First off, Mr. Pines has an RV, savings, and he’s dating someone in town who owns a house. He could move in with James if he wanted. And if it comes down to it, you could bring him back to California. So he won’t be homeless. We don’t need to worry about that, right?”

“Maybe,” Mabel admitted grudgingly.

“Second, you said the two of them have already discussed this arrangement, and Mr. Pines agreed to leave because Grunkle Ford asked him to. Is that right?”

“There’s a misunderstanding,” Dipper interjected.

“Sure, there might be a misunderstanding,” Wendy continued. “But essentially, the two of them are already working on this. None of us really knows what’s gone on between them—it’s complicated. I think the best thing we can do is let them figure it out.”

“I can’t accept their solution! There has to be something we can do. Maybe we can get Fiddleford to invent a reconciliation ray? Or a ‘good brother’ tie?”

“Mabel,” Wendy said gently, “as the world’s greatest matchmaker, you know you can only create opportunities. Perfect love happens naturally—you can’t force it.”

Mabel nodded reluctantly.

“Don’t you think it’s the same with family?”

Mabel hesitated, doubt flickering across her face.

Wendy reached out and pulled her into a hug. “I know you love Mr. Pines, and we all care about both of the Mr. Pineses,” she said. “But some problems they have to solve on their own. Promise me, you won’t interfere, okay?”

Mabel reluctantly nodded.

A week later, James returned to Gravity Falls. The day after his return, Grunkle Stan left early in the morning, carrying his fishing gear and a box of worms. Recently, though Grunkle Stan sometimes missed breakfast, Grunkle Ford always arrived in the kitchen on time. They had grown accustomed to Grunkle Ford preparing breakfast for everyone. During the meal, Ford set aside a plate of toast and baked beans for Stan. When Stan didn’t show up, Ford silently cleared the untouched plate.

It wasn’t until the end of the lunch break that Ford walked into the gift shop, looking perplexed.

“Stanley hasn’t shown up all day. I checked his room earlier, and he’s not there. Do you know where he went?” he asked. Wendy and Dipper exchanged a glance and shook their heads.

“It’s dangerous out there right now. My enemies have their eyes on this place,” Ford said, looking a bit uneasy. “He still has his protective charm with him, right?”

“Oh, hey, Mr. Pines!” Soos greeted him cheerfully. “ Mr. Pines’s on a date today. He told me to watch the shop.”

Ford paused, clearly startled. “Oh,” he said, setting down the dried pufferfish in his hands. “They’re still dating? I thought that had ended.”

“ Mr. Pines seems to really like James.”

“James was away on a business trip. He just got back yesterday,” Mabel chimed in.

“And today, they went out together,” Ford said.

“ Mr. Pines must have really missed him,” Soos added. “Otherwise, he wouldn’t have left so early this morning.”

Ford’s expression darkened.

“And it’s their third date!” Mabel said excitedly.

“What’s significant about the third date?” Ford asked.

“Oh, come on, Grunkle Ford,” she giggled. “We all know what happens on the third date, right?”

Wendy and Soos immediately turned to Mabel, looking alarmed. “Whoa!” “Mabel!” they said simultaneously.

“What?” Mabel blinked, startled by their reaction.

“That’s not something someone your age should be talking about,” Soos said. “I think this topic is a little too grown-up for you.”

“What?” Ford asked nervously. “What happens on the third date?”

Mabel looked puzzled. “I can’t say ‘kiss’?”

Wendy and Soos exchanged a relieved glance.

“Oh, uh—” Wendy said, nodding quickly, “Yeah, that. Kissing.”

Watching Wendy and Soos’s behavior, Ford suddenly looked anxious.

“I should go find Stanley,” he said. “For safety reasons. Vega and Altair are aligning with Deneb today, which makes it a very dangerous time. The creatures in the woods will be restless. I need to make sure he’s safe. Soos, do you know where he went?”

Soos shook his head. “Grunkle Stan didn’t tell me last night.”

Mabel frowned, clearly thinking hard. “I don’t know, Grunkle Ford,” she said, then her eyes widened as if she’d just remembered something. “But when I got up for water early this morning, I saw Grunkle Stan’s car heading toward town. Maybe they went out to eat?”

Ford nodded and gave her a small smile. “Thank you,” he said before turning to leave. Wendy gave Mabel a disapproving look, and Mabel guiltily averted her eyes.

The morning had started out bright and sunny, perfect for fishing, but by mid-afternoon, around three or four o’clock, the sky had grown overcast. The weather turned heavy, hot, and oppressive. Dipper, Wendy, and Soos were still in the shop, while Mabel was alone in the living room, watching *Ducktective* with Waddles.

Heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway as Ford passed by the living room, then stopped. “Oh, Mabel, you’re here,” he said.

Mabel sat up. “Hi, Grunkle Ford,” she replied.

Ford still had sweat on his face, his hair was disheveled, and he looked tired. “Grunkle Ford, have you been looking for Grunkle Stan this whole time?” she asked, guilt creeping into her voice.

Ford nodded dismissively. “May I come in?” he asked.

“Of course, Grunkle Ford. What’s wrong?” she asked. Ford sat down on the floor, and she joined him.

“Stanley cares about you a lot, and you clearly care about him. You’re a good kid,” he said. Mabel shifted uncomfortably. “Did you introduce James to Stanley?”

“Uh, yeah. It took me a lot of effort to find him. No one we know really suited Grunkle Stan—they’re either scientists, more successful than him, or a weirdo who’s never dated anyone. No way was I letting my Grunkle Stan near people like that.”

Ford seemed to consider her words thoughtfully. “Yes, I suppose that type wouldn’t be a good fit. So, what do you think of James?”

“James is really nice. He wears those elbow-patch jackets, and he actually looks good in them, not dorky at all. He’s only met me once, but on their last two dates, he sent Grunkle Stan back with gifts for Dipper and me. He’s smart and charming.”

“And how does he treat Grunkle Stan?”

Mabel shook her head. “I haven’t really seen them together. But Grunkle Stan told me James is patient and a great listener. On their dates, they always do things Grunkle Stan wants to do, and James just quietly supports him.”

“He sounds like a good man.”

Mabel hesitated before carefully asking, “Grunkle Ford, hasn’t Grunkle Stan told you any of this?”

Ford shook his head. “Actually, we’ve never talked about it.”

“Not even once? But,” she paused, “isn’t that kind of weird? Dipper and I share everything we experience.”

“Our way of caring for each other isn’t through communication,” he said with a wry smile. “I guess we’re just not good at talking. Since I’ve been back, we’ve hardly had a real conversation. Is Stanley happy these days?”

“Of course. These past few days are the happiest I’ve seen Grunkle Stan in the last three weeks. James makes him really happy.”

“You’ve all been telling me that Stanley hasn’t been happy lately.”

“Well, yeah, kind of. He’s been in a bad mood and down ever since…” she hesitated, glancing awkwardly at Ford.

“Since I came back,” Ford finished for her.

Mabel avoided his gaze and nodded.

“Don’t feel bad,” he told her. “It’s okay to acknowledge tension within a family. Honestly, I prefer it. It’s healthier than pretending everything’s fine. I grew up in a household like that, and it wasn’t good for anyone.”

“Grunkle Ford, do you care about Grunkle Stan?”

Ford looked slightly startled. “Of course,” he said.

Mabel mustered her courage. “Then why are you making him leave? That’s really cruel.”

“Making him leave?” Ford looked shocked. “I’ve never wanted him to leave. Why would I want to kick my brother out?”

“But Grunkle Stan said that the night you came back, you told him you didn’t want him to stay here. You said you didn’t like him turning this place into a tourist trap, or using your name for it. You told him to give the house back to you.”

“I did say that.”

“Then why—”

“I mean, I do want the Mystery Shack to close. Now that I’m back, Stanley doesn’t need to keep working. I have enough money to maintain the house for both of us. I don’t like the Shack, but I never meant to make him leave.” He put a hand over his face, then chuckled bitterly. “Is that how he interpreted it? He must think I’m a terrible person.”

“You mean you never clarified something so important?”

“So that’s why he bought the RV,” Ford said. “This could’ve been cleared up with a single conversation.”

Ford looked frustrated. “We used to tell each other everything. We were like you and Dipper—no words needed to understand each other. But now, we barely talk at all. I’ve been avoiding it because I’m afraid we’ll just argue, that I’ll make things worse. These days, every conversation just feels like we’re hurting each other.”

Mabel watched Ford with sadness. So, Dipper had been right all along. It was just a misunderstanding, and it really did stem from Grunkle Ford. She thought back to everything they’d done over the past few weeks—the trips, the matchmaking, all to cheer up Grunkle Stan. Then, she remembered something.

“Grunkle Ford, I just realized, even dating James hasn’t made Grunkle Stan completely happy,” she said.

“What?”

“This summer, one morning, we were setting off fireworks on the roof. For some reason, he was laughing, so carefree. Now I finally understand why,” she said. “That was the morning before you were supposed to return. That was the happiest I’ve ever seen Grunkle Stan.”

She leaned forward, grabbing Ford’s sleeve. “Go talk to him, Grunkle Ford. Go find him at the lake. I know once you clear things up, everything will be fine between you two,” she said earnestly.

Ford smiled faintly. Outside, the sky was dark and heavy, birds skimming low across the ground, everything tinged yellow-gray.

“It’s too late. There’s going to be a downpour at the lake,” he said.

A few days later, they spent time together inside. With weather like this, there were no tourists, so they closed the Mystery Shack early and gathered on the carpet to play *Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons* with Stanford. Soos couldn’t figure out his character stats, while Wendy got far more into the game than she would ever admit. They chatted about cheerful things, but Grunkle Ford barely said a word. No one brought up Grunkle Stan’s date.

They played for two hours until a sudden car horn sounded outside. Soos set down his grid paper and walked to the window. Headlights cut through the heavy rain, casting a broad beam across the Shack. Through the fine sheets of rain, a red car came into focus.

“It’s Mr. Pines,” Soos observed, peering outside. “He’s back.”

Stanford paused mid-action.

Soos kept watching. “I see Mr. Pines getting out of the car. He’s carrying a big bag and wearing a raincoat—they must’ve gone fishing. That’s great! Mr. Pines has wanted someone to fish with him on a boat for ages, and now he finally found someone. Wait, why’s he heading back to the car? Oh, another door’s opening—someone’s getting out. A man in a blue raincoat… oh, is that James?”

Stanford stood up. “Wait, Grunkle Ford,” Dipper said, dropping his paper and pen as he reached for Stanford’s coat. “Grunkle Ford.”

Soos turned back to notice Stanford moving toward the window. “Oh, Mr. Pines, do you want to see what James looks like too?” he asked.

Stanford walked straight past Soos. He opened the front door, and in an instant, wind and rain surged into the house, soaking the newspapers near the doorway. He stepped outside, and the door slammed shut behind him, leaving the house in silence again.

The group exchanged looks, then scrambled to the window together.

The sun hadn’t yet set, but the sky was dark and gray, everything cast in muted tones. Through the downpour, a beige figure moved briskly toward the car. His stride was purposeful. The two figures outside stopped when they saw him. James took a step back. They stood still for a moment as Grunkle Stan set down his fishing gear, clearly exchanging heated words.

Suddenly, Grunkle Stan gestured wildly, protectively grabbing the shoulder of the blue-clad figure with one hand while emphatically gesturing with the other, shouting over the rain. His mouth moved, but the sound of the storm drowned out his voice. James raised his hands, placing them between Stan and Stanford, seemingly trying to calm Stan down.

Stanford stood firm, not stepping back. He turned to speak to James. They exchanged a few words before Stan froze for a moment, seemingly taking a deep breath. Then, he abruptly pulled something from his pocket, handed it to James, and gestured toward the car. James accepted it, and the two spoke briefly in the rain before James turned to place his belongings in the trunk. He then got into the car and drove away.

James’s headlights illuminated his silhouette and Stanford’s back as he reversed, then disappeared into the storm. Grunkle Stan watched the car fade into the rain until it vanished completely. Then, he turned around and punched Stanford square in the face.

Stanford didn’t dodge, letting the punch land solidly. Grunkle Stan shoved him to the ground, muddy water splashing around them. Then, almost simultaneously, they both raised their fists, swinging at each other. In the pounding rain, their movements became difficult to distinguish. The dimming light blurred their figures until they almost merged into one. Stanford hardly fought back, focusing instead on defending himself. Eventually, Grunkle Stan gained the upper hand, pinning Stanford beneath him. With one hand gripping Stanford’s red sweater tightly, he raised his fist.

Lightning struck the lightning rod on the Shack, flooding everything in stark white light. In the glaring flash, Grunkle Stan stared down at Stanford, muscles tense, eyes wide.

Thunder roared, but Grunkle Stan’s punch didn’t land. Instead, he hesitated, his fist lowering slightly. Stanford suddenly leaned forward, throwing his weight into Grunkle Stan.

The force knocked Grunkle Stan backward, but Stanford reached out, catching him. His solid frame shielded Grunkle Stan’s, and then he wrapped his arms around him tightly.

Grunkle Stan froze. Stanford clung to Grunkle Stan’s raincoat, opened his mouth, and said something.

They embraced in the pouring rain.

Inside the house, Dipper exclaimed, “Wait, what?”

Soos had already started crying and was standing by the front door, ready to give them both a hug as soon as they came back inside.

“Did you guys see that? Did you see that?” Mabel said excitedly. “I made Grunkle Stan happy again, and I made Grunkle Ford happy too! I’m the best matchmaker in the world! Wait, no, they’re not a couple.”

Wendy smiled at that.

The lights in the Shack flickered on, casting a warm yellow glow through the windows and faintly illuminating the lawn. The rain continued, fine and relentless, sweeping across their surroundings.

A moment later, the outdoor lights clicked on, brightening the scene. Everything looked clean and crisp, and they could see clearly how tears mixed with the rain as they fell onto the ground.