Actions

Work Header

Waiting Drives You Crazy

Summary:

Stanford Pines will fix the mistake he made no matter what.

Shermie Pines just wants his brother to move on.

Dipper and Mabel just want to know what was going on.

Stanley finally gets to come home.

Notes:

Hey y'all hope you enjoy the stangst, this is based off a Tumblr post I read like a month ago and cannot find for the life of me. Title from Radiohead.

Chapter 1: Chapter 1

Chapter Text

The ground shook as another round of weightlessness ended, floorboards creaked and groaned, as the walls themselves seemed to heave under the strain. A symphony of rattling metal echoed throughout the cavern, bolts and nuts pulling against their placement 

T-Minus, 2 Minutes, a robotic monotone voice announced, as an otherworldly contraption shown a variant pinwheel rainbow upon the room. The dust particles thrown up by the quakes seemed to dance a strange waltz, being pulled into its unnatural glow and yet trying to escape back to the sanctity of the ground.

  “It's almost time…” Whispered the man in the center of the room, staring up at the machine with a reverence almost reserved for holy worship. His gaze filled with a hundred emotions, fear, anticipation, longing, worry, and guilt-guilt-guilt. But most of all, as he looked up at both his greatest creation and greatest failing, his eyes were filled with Hope. A deep hope to rectify one of his deepest sins.

“GRUNKLE FORD!”

“GREAT UNCLE FORD!”

“STANFORD!”


   The man whipped his head around to see the source of the trio of cries. Twins figures and one that towered over, two sets of warm hazel eyes and one of weathered gray. Their chests heaving with exertion, lungs seemingly trying to escape the cage that the ribs created. Younger faces were filled with a mix of worry-confusion-Fear. The older’s face filled with exhaustion-worry-confusion-Anger-fear.


   He knew that he deserved nothing less than the looks they were giving him. That he betrayed them the moment he came down here and began repairs on this forsaken machine. And even before that, when he let his ego and curiosity get the better of him.
       
 When he ignored the warnings etched into cave walls, when he fell for simple words of flattery and praise. When he refused to listen to friends' worries and cost him his mind. When he made that stupid, STUPID DEAL.

When he killed his brother.

  That doesn't matter right now! The man thought, squeezing his eyes shut,  reaching up and tugging harshly on his hair in an attempt to clear his mind.

“Stanford,” The oldest in the room began, hands held in front of him in a placating manner, “What is this? What's going on?” His eyes, gray and deep like a stormy sea, flicker back and forth from him, to the cacophony of swirling colors that pour unyieldingly from behind, back to him again.

“This,” The man says, voice clear and unwavering, “is a hole punched through space-time.” His gaze never leaving the group in front of him.

“And it's how I'm going to fix my greatest mistake.”  







      Sherman Pines had seen and lived through a lot in his life. He'd seen the birth of several of his loved ones, and the death of even more. He had  watched his son grow up and start his own family, he saw his little brother get as many PhDs as he had fingers on his unique hands. He lived through his wife getting sick and he lived through the treatment, and he lived through her funeral. He lived through both of his parents' funerals, he'd seen his grandchildren be born.

He lived through losing his youngest brother twice, once to the harsh world his father had thrown him into, without so much as a second glance. And once to the fate that awaits every living thing.

Sherman Pines had lived through his remaining brother losing his mind. He'd watched as his brother was interrogated about what he had done to his twin. About the blood staining his house and the car abandoned in his driveway. As he was declared insane and locked in a ward.

He had watched as his brilliant, genius, creative little brother retreated into himself. Watched as he withered away into a husk, until the staff decided that there was nothing else they could do and released him to his family.

He'd seen the look in Stanford's eyes the day he came home, the glassy, thousand yard stare. The way he'd sit there for hours without saying anything, either reading the same book over and over, or looking out the window to the ocean.

A longing for a dream he could never again achieve.

Sherman Pines had seen the way his brother seemed to brighten up around his grandkids. How he would smile at Dipper's ghost stories, how he would chuckle at Mabels jokes. How he would wear every sweater she'd knit him, no matter how itchy.  How he discussed conspiracy theories with Dipper when he was upset about someone making fun of his birthmark.

He'd watched as his brother slowly started to piece himself back together. As he started to laugh again, as he started to play DDMD again, and even correct people's grammar. He lived through his brother's attempts to poison him with what he called ‘cooking’. As he started to write again like when they were kids, even if it was more equations and codes he couldn't understand then doodles of cryptids and monsters.

Sherman Pines had lived through bad days, Stanfords and his own. He'd lived through the times where his brother became that shell of a person again. He'd lived through the days where all he wanted to do was lay in bed again and never move again, to join his wife and parents and brother.

   He'd lived through the good days where Stanford would ramble on about some science book he'd read or documentary he'd watched. He lived through the days where he would forget for a while that there was anything else in life other than joy, comfort, and Love.


So, when Stanford had meekly asked one cool spring evening that maybe, they could spend the summer at his old home in Gravity falls. For some closure, he'd said, fiddling with the hem of his sweater and looking away from his face. He'd sat  quietly processing it for a few minutes, before sighing and saying he'd think about it.

     He'd thought about it as he searched for houses for rent in that small town. He'd thought about it as he booked the next three months at a surprisingly cheap cabin that had reviews saying it was haunted. He'd thought about it as his son begged him to watch the kids for the summer, because he and his wife were fighting and he didn't want to make the kids have to listen to it.  

He'd thought about it the day he told Stanford and saw a glimpse of something he hadn't seen in his brother in 30 some years. He'd seen his brother's eyes lose the slight glassy sheen that they still held, even after all this time. How they'd gained a certain determination and will.

Sherman Pines hadn't understood what that look meant at the time, but looking down at his brother and the impossible machine that stood behind him. As he floated through the air, arms swinging every which way, in an attempt to get any control over what way he was facing. As he and the twins were suddenly pinned against the wall, breath leaving him all at once. He finally understood this is what Stanford had planned all along.


“Ford! I don't know what you mean by ‘your biggest mistake’ but whatever it is, this CAN'T be the only way to fix it, or-or undo, or something!” Shermie shouted, gesturing as best he could with his arms pinned against the wall. “I might not understand the mechanics behind what you're doing, but I can tell this thing is dangerous! You have to shut it off!”

“No, NO! I won't, I won't fail him again!” Ford yelled back over the unnatural hum that had overtaken the basement, clinging to the pole on the ground just in front of the strange machine. “I have to keep it on, he's in there I know it! I know it and I will show you!”

Shermie’s stomach filled with dread as the final puzzle piece clicked into place. Anger mixed with it as he realizes what his brother is trying to do.

“Ford, Stan's gone! He's been dead 30 years and you have to accept that! Whatever you think this will do, it won't!” He screams, tears starting to prick at the corner of his eyes. “He's gone and you have to move on!”

“No, I cannot, I WILL not!”

“But he is! WHY CAN'T YOU ACCEPT THAT!?”
 
“Because!”

T-Minus 10 Seconds.

“Because why Stanford?! Because why!?”
 
9

 8

  7

   6

“Because…”
 
     5

“Because!”

      4

        3

           2

 “BECAUSE THEN I WOULD HAVE BEEN THE ONE WHO KILLED HIM!”

  Silence reigned king for a moment, before a cool robotic voice said, with a finality typically only found in songs, 1.


And

everything

went

white.

 

 

 

 

Stanford, upon awaking from his unconscious to the sound of coughs and groaning, had two things on his mind. The first being Oh, ow. Everything hurts.

The second, and the one that caused him to sit straight up was Did it work? Searching the wreckage around provided him with the sight of the twins in different states of rising, and his older brother coughing harshly on the ground. Both parties were around 4 or so meters away from where the portal had thrown him. A part of him relaxed at seeing that his family was okay. Turning away from them and to the otherworldly glow of the portal his heart Clenched.

Standing there in the blue light and crackling wires was a man. He was wearing a familiar faded red jacket, hood pulled up, with a scarf covering his mouth and nose, and sturdy, dark, looking goggles covering his eyes. A bag was slung over his shoulder and a large knife was attached to his belt.

Ford would have continued to stare silently, unmoving until the end of time, if Dipper hadn't chosen to speak.

“Wuh-? Who is that?”

“It's who I've been looking for.”

The man, in a movement so smooth it's clear he's done it a thousand times, pulls his hood and scarf down, goggles off. Revealing a face almost identical to the one he sees whenever he get the braves to look in the mirror.

“My Brother.”


Chapter 2: Reactions & Reunions

Summary:

30 years and now he's back.

What the heck is a Mystery Shack?!

Notes:

Hi y'all, back with the comfort to the hurt. Thanks for all the love on the last chapter. Also I found the post I was looking for! https://www.tumblr.com/sharksfrommars/776641509925715969/reverse-portal-au-but-the-reason-ford-cant-bring?source=share

Enjoy!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Dipper Pines could only stare in shock at the stranger that his great uncle claimed to be his brother. It was one thing to know that Great Uncle Ford had, you know, had a twin brother, it was entirely another thing to see an identical stranger walk out of a sci-fi doomsday portal. Like he felt like was about to have a stroke, kind of other thing.

The existence of Stanley Pines had been a kind of unspoken secret in his family. The most Dipper knew about him was this.

  1. His name was Stanley Caryn Pines.
  2. He was Great Uncle Ford's twin.
  3. He'd ‘passed’ sometime in the 80’s.
  4. Great Uncle Ford was involved in this, in some way.
  5. He used to box.
 

It wasn't a lot to go off of, plus whenever he'd try to ask anything more he was usually shushed and told not to bother Great Uncle Ford about it. He had, in fact, bothered Ford about him once and had gotten a sad distant look and “He's gone because of me, but I know he would have loved you.” in response.

  Frankly ominous statements aside, Dipper had been trying to solve the mystery of his other uncle all summer, as he had learned before leaving California that this was where he died.

 And he had! Well-in a way, he had learned more about his living uncle than his dead one. Like how used to be a researcher (or as the older townsfolk called him a ‘spooky science man’), or that he used to own the cabin Grandpa Shermie had rented! He’d also found out that the fancy,(and slightly smelly), car that Grandpa drove sometimes used to be Stanley's.


That was probably why Great Uncle Ford looked so sad whenever he did.


Anyhow, to see a person that he's literally, you know, visited the grave of, squint at the room at large through glasses that seem to be held together by hopes and prayers, and mutter, “Ah shit, where the hell-” Before being rather abruptly cut off via aforementioned Great Uncle tackling him in a move college recruiters dreamed about.

“STANLEY!”

Was, well. Rather jaring.






Mabel Pines was having a rather weird day. First, gravity started to just turn off randomly well they were out on a hike. So, you know. Only fun for a second before becoming rather terrifying, as she was reminded that the ground was still a thing that existed. So, you know.

Not cool beans.

Secondly, when they finally got back to the cabin after a few more impromptu trips through moon gravity Grunkle Ford was gone. Not like dead gone, but like, we have no idea where he is and Grandpa's was freaking out, gone. So, you know.

Not cool beans.

The opposite of cool beans actually, which was probably hot waffles or whatever it was Grandpa said. She was having a bit of a hard time thinking straight at the moment. Probably from the moon gravity scrambling her brain or something.

Thirdly, after another trip swimming through the air and slamming back down, part of the wall near the front of the house fell off, revealing a secret door.

 A secret door leading to a secret staircase, leading to a secret elevator, leading to a secret basement, leading to her Grunkle.
   
   Her Grunkle, that was standing in front of what looked like the world's largest recreation of the rainbow pinwheel of death that the computers at school would sometimes show when you clicked on something.


Now, Mabel knows that like logically, her Grunkle probably wasn't the most stable and/or sane person out there. He had to go to therapy once a week, every week or somebody would get called. He had brain medicine he had to take everyday, or Grandpa and his therapist would start to get stressed about it. He wasn't allowed to be alone for long periods of time or shave with razors.

Not that he did anyway, he always just lit his face on fire. Apparently it was both faster and something he'd been doing since he was a teenager. She wasn't entirely sure how it was in any safer than just letting him have a razor-but what did she know? She wasn't a doctor, so maybe it just was.

The point is, Mabel knew that Grunkle Ford wasn't all right in the head, and it had something to do with what happened to her other Grunkle in the 80's. And while unlike her twin, she wasn't obsessed with finding out more either. Something bad had happened, and it scared her more than anything else to wonder what it was.

So she tried not to. She tried not to wonder about the reason why Grunkle Ford looked at the ocean and the boats by the docks, like they held something precious that he couldn't reach.
   
At the way he would wake up screaming sometimes, a name at the tip of his tongue. Or how he would lay his hand on the hood of Grandpa Shermies fancy red car, the one with the license plates that read STNLYMBL, like it was his last connection to earth.

She tried really hard not to think about the reason he would look at her and Dipper when they were playing in the yard or messing around, with a face filled with nostalgia and Grief.

But as she got up from being thrown around like the snow in a snow globe, and saw him sprint to the new person. (His brother? She was pretty sure that was what he said, her ears were still ringing a little.) 

Faster than she thought possible for someone his age and activity level. As he caught the stranger in a flying hug that would almost put her to shame, and shrieking a name she'd believed impossible all the way.

“STANLEY!”

Mabel started to think maybe she should have pressed the subject a bit more than she did.




Sherman Pines was pretty sure he was dieing of an aneurysm. Either that or he'd accidentally drunk his granddaughter's beloved ‘Mabel Juice’ and was hallucinating.

 That was the only way he could rationalize the scene unfolding before him. A man with an impossible face had stepped out of what Ford had called a ‘spacetime hole puncher’ and was currently being squeezed to death by him.

“STANLEY! Stanley, your back! It worked! Your back and you're alive, and I'm sorry it took so long please believe me I triedandimsorryimsorryinsorryimsorry-”

Sixer, Ford, Buddy I need to breathe.” The man croaked in a raspy, gruff voice. Ford quickly unlatched the death grip hug he'd had around the man.

“Oh my gosh! Right, I'm sorry, are you okay? Are you hurt? I didn't see anything wrong when you came through, so I assumed you were uninjured. I didn't hurt you, did I? I was just so happy to see you and-” He gushed out as he started to look the stranger over, one hand still clenched on the fabric of his jacket. Like he was afraid that if let go, the man would disappear.

“I'm fine Poindexter ya just crushed me for a second there.” The man said as he took a deep breath, chest rising and falling in a dramatic show. “Now that that's done.” He paused, “COME ‘ER AND LET ME GET ME A LOOK AT YOU!” He swept the other into his arms, laughing while lifting Ford off the ground.

“WUH-What the?! Stanley! Put me down!”
 
If he wasn't sure this wasn't real before, Shermie was now. The sound coming from his brother was one he hadn't heard since before he left for college. One he thought he'd never hear again.

Unrestricted, unburdened, joyous, laughter.

“I knew you could do it! I knew you would get that thing to work again!”

“Yes I did it, I did it and your Back!”

His brother and the stranger with his face (it couldn't, could it?) mashed their foreheads together.

They looked like it was the best day of their lives.


“Hi, Mabel here. Quick question, WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON?!”

 

Notes:

I feel like Mabel tends to avoid feelings that she overly uncomfortable with. I also think that Dipper misses stuff that's in plain sight sometimes.

Shermie don't have a canon anything so I'm going off my on vibes with him.

Come talk to me on Tumblr!
https://www.tumblr.com/thesnakelord?source=share

Series this work belongs to: