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There was a magical tear in reality bleeding a thousand colors at once, and it was Stanley’s Great Aunt who was to blame for it, ‘cause she recited some crazy spell like a crazy witch trying to curse the world or something. Or maybe it was Ford’s fault, ‘cause he was right there with the key to put in the old stone door in the middle of the clearing, and when Grauntie Mabel screamed “Turn it, please, I can’t wait until the next alignment!” and Stanley screamed “No!” Ford listened to Mabel.
Stanley might’ve started fuming about that, but then Ford unlocked the door and there was a blast of color and buzzing magic that sent his brother tumbling back and Stan was too busy trying to catch him before he rammed into a tree and cracked his head open to get properly mad. It was a near thing, too.
And then he was so busy making sure Ford didn’t break something he almost missed the door opening into a giant tear in the first place. It’s only Ford’s gasp that tells him to look up.
It’s freaky-looking. It looks like it shouldn’t exist. Stan’s so, so, so sure the world is about to end in like ten seconds because of this that he almost shouts in shock when something starts coming through the bright light.
For a second he thinks it’s a monster. But then the silhouette gets bigger and clearer and it turns out it’s a man that steps out of the blinding light in the middle of the clearing.
The man looks up, his face cast in shadow from the glow of the tear in the middle of the air. He looks...
Stanley isn't afraid of anything. He never has been and he never will be. But the haggard grooves of the stranger's square face and the deep shadows hiding his eyes spook him the same way Pa's glower sometimes spooks him. The stranger looks like he could hurt someone real bad.
Stanley makes sure Ford is behind him. Stanley can handle a few hurts. That's what he does.
He wants to make sure Grauntie Mabel gets behind him too, not because she's a lady (he's been hugged by her a lot, he knows her strength), but because she's family.
But before he can say a word she's dropped the weird magical necklace in her hands and is running to the man.
"Dipper!" she says, and there's so much in her voice, fear and relief and sorrow and hope and a dozen other things.
Stanley hears Ford breath "Dipper?" like it means something, like it explains everything. It doesn't mean anything to him. That's not too weird, though. Stan doesn't get a lot of stuff.
The man's head jerks up. His eyes go wide. Then he smiles , big and goofy and astonished and all at once he isn't the least bit frightening. He doesn't look a bit like Pa.
"Mabel!" he shouts back, and all of his tense body language drains away as he flings his arms open wide.
Grauntie Mabel crashes into those open arms with all the force of a sudden onset storm, wild enough to send lesser men tumbling down onto the ground. And the man almost tumbles down, but he rights himself at the last second.
He squeezes Grauntie Mabel like he's afraid she'll disappear if she's an inch away from him, shouting, "You did it, Mabel! You did it!"
His voice is tinged with delighted laughter.
"I did it!" she hollers back. She squeezes him back harder, even lifting him up and spinning him in one of her patented "Merry-Go-Round Hugs"™.
And then she drops him to his feet and drags herself back from him just enough to grab the man's ear and yank him down by it, forcing the man to double over. The man squawks in shock, but Grauntie Mabel doesn't let go.
"You are never, ever, ever allowed to yell at me for being reckless again!" she shouts instead. "Thirty years! Thirty years, all because you trusted some stupid bug and didn't test this damn thing before trying it!"
For a split second Stan's not-quite-scared again, because the look on the man's face went cold and strange when Grauntie Mabel got tough with him. His hands twitched like he was going to do something, grab something, and no one is allowed to hurt Mabel on Stan's watch. But then he smiles again and laughs, lifting those hands up in supplication.
"Fine!" he cries. "I won't do it again, I swear! Uncle, uncle!"
"Damn right!" she says, and lets him go.
The man straightens up, still grinning, but that grin freezes oddly on his face when Stan, getting all a bit fed up with how little he understands about what’s happening, stomps forward and barks, “HEY! What the heck is goin’ on here?”
The man stares at him. His eyes flicker a bit behind Stan to register Ford’s presence as well.
"Mabel," he says. "Why are there children here?"
Grauntie Mabel slaps her hands to her cheeks, eyes wide, and groans, "Ohhh, my gosh, I forgot for a minute!"
She whirls around, snagging her arm around the man's shoulders and practically frog marching him up to Stan and Ford. Stan can feel Ford starting to vibrate from excitement behind him, and still has almost no idea what's going on.
Grauntie Mabel looks them both in the eyes individually the way she does when she wants them to really listen to what she says. She smiles, bright and proud, and gestures to the man.
"Stan, Ford," she says. "This is my brother Dipper."
"The author of the journals!" Ford almost squeals and, oh, yeah, that explains why he might be losing his mind a bit.
Stan is sorta impressed now, too. He was already impressed, because this guy did step through a glowing magic portal all cool-like, but some of the stuff in those journals is crazy cool as well.
Great Uncle Dipper—Grunkle Dipper, Stan decides immediately, because 'Great Uncle' is a bit long—blinks at Ford's exclamation, but then he smiles down at Ford like he likes him already. That wins him extra points in Stan's book.
"Yes, I am. Would you like to see how I got that nickname?" he says.
They both nod.
He sweeps his hair back with a hand in clear habit, and there's a whole, unbroken Big Dipper constellation on his forehead, with the lines and nearby stars and everything, all in a darkish red. Not a tattoo, but some sort of birthmark or something. The Big Dipper, just like the symbol on the Jounals.
Ford shakes harder from unbridled glee. Stan says, "Whoa, awesome!" because he's never seen anything like that before, and it is pretty awesome.
Grunkle Dipper grins wider. He gives Stan the fond look now and wow, it's pretty great, getting looked at like that by a male relative. Stan’s never had that happen to him before.
"Dipper, these are Stanley and Stanford Pines, your great nephews," Grauntie Mabel completes, face glowing with pride as it always does when she talks about them.
Grunkle Dipper's expression twists.
Stan squares up, ready to start yelling if his grunkle starts to hate them because of their names or something, which would be stupid because the guy's name is Dipper. Even if it’s a nickname, it’s not like he seems to use his actual name. He hadn’t given it, anyway.
Grunkle Dipper does not say he hates their names and therefore them. What he says, brows furrowed and voice laced with absolute bewilderment, is, " Filbrick managed to procreate?"
There's a beat of perfect silence.
Then Grauntie Mabel lets out one of her also-patented witch cackles, loud and shrieking, and scares away a ton of birds.
"I know, right?"