Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Dipper's eyes flickered open, light from the triangular window filling the room. His eyes abnormally stung as they adjusted to the light. He glanced over to Mabel's bed and saw that she wasn't there. "Mabel?" He winced as he sat up. Pain shot through his arms and his head felt like something was pounding inside, trying to get out. The day before was blurry, the memories just out of reach. He noticed a glass of water on the bedside table. When he went to grab it, his arm was wrinkly and discolored. He jumped, nearly knocking the glass over. Shakily, he brought his arm closer to examine it. Blinking a few times, Dipper realized it was a bandage wrapped around his arm that he was seeing. Carefully, he pulled it off. Dark red spots and lines covered them. Strangely, the dots seemed to be grouped in four. Even weirder, the groups were arranged so the dots were in a line. "What happened?" Besides a few small smears of blood, his arm was clean and taken care of. He breathed in and slipped out of bed.

His whole body ached, similar to when he fought Rumble McSkirmish. Limping, he grabbed a jacket and trudged to the stairs. He gripped the railing, hoping his legs won't give out from under him. Suddenly, it all came back to him. The deal. Bill Cipher. Bipper. Images of forks in his arms and yellow eyes with stretched pupils swirled in his mind. His memories shifted to Mabel's sock puppet show, and how it ended in disaster.

Wait...

Mabel!

She had to fight Bill! Dipper rushed down the stairs, repeatedly losing balance and slamming his body into the wall. If that demon did anything to my sister...

Dipper had tripped on the last few steps, but instead of face planting into the floor, big arms had caught him. "Woah, easy there," Grunkle Stan sounded...softer than normal. Dipper recovered from the shock of the fall and looked up. Stan was clearly concerned. How much did he know?

"Where's Mabel?" Dipper tried to dart to the living room, but Stan held him.

"Kid-"

"Where is she? Is she alright?" Dipper wrestled against his grunkle's grip.

"Hey, relax" Stan shook him lightly. Dipper stopped fighting and looked back at Stan. "Mabel is fine, she's in-"

"Dipper?" The two looked toward the kitchen to see Mabel. A messy apron was wrapped around her front.

"Mabel!" Dipper rushed toward her, and Stan didn't try to stop him. The twins hugged tightly, which was painful for Dipper, but he didn't care. He frantically looked around her body, examining arms, legs, and head. "A-are you alright? Did he hurt you?"

"Dipping sauce, you need to take a serious chill pill. I'm not hurt, see?" Mabel did a quick twirl. A loud beep rang out from the kitchen. "The cupcakes! I'll be right back!" She ran inside the kitchen. Soon a delightful aroma could be smelled. Dipper was going to follow but he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Kid, look, I don't know what happened last night. Your sister was very quiet about it, and that alone is concerning," Stan hesitated, eyeing the jacket. He sighed. "I know I'm not the first person anyone would go to for help but...if you need to talk, I'm always here."

Dipper didn't know what to say. What could he say? He couldn't tell Stan about Bill because...well for starters he has been actively going against Stan's wishes for him to leave the journal alone. Then there was him making a stupid deal with Bill. He certainly didn't want Stan knowing about that mistake. Then there was Bill himself. If Stan found out that a demon has been terrorizing him and Mabel, he would definitely take the journal away. "I-uh..." Dipper avoided Stan's eyes. Grunkle Stan was being more sincere and caring than normal. Unfortunately, that made it way a lot difficult to keep big secrets from him. Ones that were important to Dipper. "Thanks, Grunkle Stan. I...um-"

"Finished!" Mabel shouted from the kitchen. Dipper was already incredibly grateful for his sister, now even more so.

"Coming!" Dipper shouted back. He brought himself to look Stan in the eyes. Stan nodded with a small smile and the two of them walked towards the slightly suffocating but sweet smell of cupcakes. They sat down at the table while Mabel brought over two plates with fully decorated cupcakes on them.

"While you were sleeping, I wanted to make you a treat for when you woke up," Mabel grinned. "I was going to make you my confetti waffle milkshake, but Grunkle Stan said that you would probably want something 'tamer'."

The cupcakes were extremely vibrant and were covered with various types of sprinkles. Dipper smiled widely, which strangely made his face hurt. "Thanks Mabel!" He grabbed a cupcake and bit into it. He could feel the sugar going straight into his blood stream, but the taste was wonderful. "These ones are awesome!" Mabel constantly was trying out new recipes. By now, Dipper considered himself to be an expert on cupcakes.

Mabel beamed. "Yes! Baker Mabel has made yet another satis-fabulous desert!"

As the three of them munched on cupcakes, Dipper avoided looking over at Stan. His grunkle had been watching him the whole time, most likely out of worry. It felt unnatural to be avoiding Stan like this and it only took a few minutes for him to give up. He looked over and the two made eye contact. Stan didn't say anything. He wore the same smile from before. Dipper returned the smile, and only then did he realize that Stan's smile was...sad. Dipper looked down and thought back to what Stan had said. Dipper had never thought about it before, but it must have been hard for Stan seeing him hurt without knowing what's going on. Especially since it happens quite a lot.

When Mabel had gotten up for a glass of Mabel Juice, Dipper grabbed a napkin. He simply wrote "soon" and then slid it over to Stan. After reading it, he looked at Dipper and nodded. They had a complete understanding in those few moments that rarely happened between them. What happened the night before, what was going on, everything Dipper was going through wouldn't be hidden forever. Dipper just needed time and Stan would be there for him when he was ready.

"Hey Mabel?"

"Yeah brobro?"

Dipper and Mabel were up in the attic, getting ready for bed. Dipper had a couple of questions hanging in his mind that kept bringing him back to the events of the previous night. "What does Stan know about last night? What did he see?"

"Well, he saw us fight, which was really me and Bipper-"

"Bipper and I," Dipper corrected.

"Grammer, shmammer. So, he saw 'us' fight. I knew that this was something that we can't tell Grunkle Stan, so I refused to tell him anything. I couldn't, especially after I stole the journal..." Mabel sat on her bed, her voice getting quieter.

Mabel's last comment hit Dipper like a brick. "Mabel, it's okay. You didn't know that Bill would be looking for it."

"Thanks Dipper," Mabel smiled and rubbed her nose. "Since Grunkle Stan couldn't know anything, I had Soos and Wendy help me with your cuts." Dipper blushed. He tried his best to move on from Wendy, and was doing well for the most part, but you can't just turn off feelings for someone. "Soos carried you back and I think Grunkle Stan saw the bandages on your arms. Speaking of which," Mabel quickly ran out of the room and came back with a roll of bandages, "you need to have a bandage." She started wrapping his arm carefully with the bandages.

"Since when are you a medical expert?" Dipper half joked. Last time he checked, Mabel had no first aid knowledge besides the very basics. You clean the wound and put a Band-Aid on it.

"Soos showed me," Mabel smiled. "'You will want to keep the cuts covered and to replace the bandages daily. The bandages are like a blanket for the cuts, dude. It makes them happy and then they heal faster.'" She did her best impression of Soos, which was scarily accurate.

"Huh," Dipper made a mental note to thank Wendy and especially Soos. Maybe he can show Dipper how to wrap the bandages too.

After getting ready, the two climbed into their beds.

"Goodnight, Dipper."

"Goodnight, Mabel."

Dipper struggled to sleep that night. He couldn't help but feel like Bill was there in the room with them, watching, waiting for the right moment to hurt them. After waking up, gasping for air for the fifth time that night, Mabel had enough. She got out of bed and started pulling Dipper out of his.

"Mabel- what are you doing?"

"You need a sleeping buddy." After Dipper got into the bed, Mabel pulled him into a hug. "You're safe, Dips. I gotchu." Dipper quickly fell into a deep sleep. Mabel felt herself slipping, so she kissed her brother's head goodnight. She couldn't help but notice the tear on Dipper's face. "I gotchu," she whispered. They slept in each other's arms for the whole night.

Early in the morning, Stan had woken up from his near-daily nightmare. However, instead of the usual nightmare, this was a new one. An arguably worse one if you asked him. Normally, he would have gone back to bed, but what he saw continued to haunt him. Sighing, he slowly got up and out of bed. Floorboards creaking below him, he slogged up the stairs. Opening the attic door, he braced himself for what he might see. Panic rose inside him when he saw Dipper's bed empty. "No, no, no, no, no," he mumbled to himself, swiftly making his way to the bed. Whipping around, he checked on Mabel. Relief flooded him as he saw Dipper in Mabel's arms. Pushing memories of him and his brother away, Stan smiled. Before returning to bed, he made a trip to the restroom. Right when he was about to leave, he saw something in the mirror.

A kid with blood dripping down his arms stood where Stan should have been. A bloodstained knife was held in the boy's hand. His messy, brown hair was covered by a cap. Behind him was an older man. He had a big nose and hair that reached his shoulders. Pain screamed in his eyes.

Stan ran out of the room, breathing quickly. "You're losing it, Stan. Your age finally catching up to you." He didn't dare go back to sleep. He went down to the hidden lab beneath the shack. He pulled out blueprints for a giant portal. "I need ya Poindexter. I need you..."

Chapter Text

Stan was watching "The Duchess Approves" when the front door opened. Quickly, he flipped the channel to “Surgeon What” as Dipper and Mabel walked into the living room.

"Hi, Grunkle Stan!" Mabel plopped onto the floor. Dipper sat down next to her, saying nothing. He seemed lost in thought. “Surgeon What” didn't even seem to catch his attention. Odd, that's one of his favorite shows.

"Hey kiddos. Whatcha little gremlins been up to?" He glanced at the clock, seeing that it was 6 in the evening. They were out later than normal.

"Oh, you know...finding a secret society and then totally owning them after they tried to erase our memories." Mabel said as if that happened quite frequently.

Stan wasn't sure how to respond to that. Mabel often made things sound both simpler and confusing, but considering everything that had happened to them, what she said was probably true. "That's my great niece and nephew." He looked over at Dipper who was now watching the TV. He hadn't said a word which was troubling as he always made comments while watching shows he liked. Dipper may be much quieter than Mabel, but he isn't silent.

This isn't the first time Dipper has acted odd. He was obviously still looking for adventures despite his promise, not that Stan was upset at all. After all, he wasn't the only one who lied during their agreement. At first, Stan figured it was because of exhaustion, that he was simply wearing himself out all the time. While Dipper did seem to have terrible sleeping habits, that certainly wasn't the sole reason behind these strange behaviours. What has the kid been going through?

After watching several episodes, it was time for bed. 8:30 was a bit early, but Mabel was passed out in his arms and Dipper desperately needed sleep. Stan carried Mabel to the attic and gently tucked her into bed. "Goodnight pumpkin," he whispered, trying not to wake her up. Turning, he saw Dipper standing at the door. "You waiting for something?"

Dipper scratched the back of his neck. "Actually...I-I was wondering if we could..." his voice trailed off. He took in a deep breath. "I was wondering if we could talk?"

Stan smiled. The kid was breaking out of his shell. On his own too. "Absolutely kid. I meant it when I said I would be here."

Dipper visibly relaxed. "Could we go somewhere else?"

"Have a place in mind or want me to pick?"

A Pitt Cola in both hands, Stan walked to the front porch. Dipper was sitting on the couch, waiting for Stan to return. "Thanks, Grunkle Stan," Dipper grabbed a can and opened it. It hissed, contrasting with the quiet peace outside. The two sat in silence. Dipper didn't know how to start, and Stan didn't want to push. After a couple of minutes, Stan realized that this was going nowhere if he didn't help Dipper out. "So..." shit. He had no idea what to say. "The sock play thing, what happened there?"

"Oh, uh...well," Dipper laughed nervously. The answer was apparently not simple. Stan didn’t really expect it to be. "Do you know anything about a being called Bill Cipher?"

The name sounded familiar. Going through recent memories, he recalled seeing it in the journal. He remembered it specifically because of the unsettling feeling it gave him. Not many things could get his twin brother, Stanford, to panic like that. Stan couldn't blame him. While letting Bill Cipher into his mind was the stupidest move ever, what happened after would have been terrifying for anyone to go through.

Why does Dipper know about him?

"That piece of shit," Dipper looked surprised and Stan remembered that Dipper doesn't know Stan looked through the journal. "That was the triangle guy that invaded my mind right?" Lying was something Stan did every day. However, this was one of the few times he hated doing it. Dipper was going way outside his comfort zone and Stan was hiding a big secret that he knew would be important to Dipper. It will all be worth it in the end. It will all be worth-

"Oh right. Well, he sort of possessed my body the night of Mabel's play."

He. Did. WHAT.

"He possessed you?! Why the hell did he do that?...How did he do that?"

Dipper sighed. "I've been trying to figure out who the author of the journal is," Stan stiffened. The feeling of guilt was overwhelmingly high. "He said I was getting close and wanted to throw me off. We had found a really old computer that was the author's. I couldn't figure out the password and when Bill showed up saying he could easily give me the answer..." Dipper looked off to the side, ashamed.

"I don't understand, this happened after him invading my mind. Surely you knew he was a demon?"

It was quiet for a moment. "I had been trying to crack the password for days. I barely got any sleep. Right before he showed up, the computer had locked down and was going to erase everything. The answer to all my questions was going to be erased in minutes. I knew Bill was bad news. He had come to me before offering to help and I refused, but now I was desperate."

"And sleep deprived," Stan added.

Dipper laughed softly. "Yeah no kidding. Bill said he needed a puppet and made it seem like he was talking about one of Mabel's. I figured one going missing wouldn't hurt. Never even thought about the possibility of it being me. Because of my mistake, Bill almost got the journal and Mabel's play was ruined." Stan frowned. Dipper's story reminded him of his biggest regret. Stan opened his mouth to say something but quickly closed it as Dipper continued. "I was helpless. A literal ghost." He shuddered. "I'm supposed to be the smart one, to know what to do in those situations. Just shows what I know."

"Hold on now," Stan placed a hand on Dipper's shoulder. Dipper turned to face him but couldn't meet his eye. "Look at me Dipper. You are smart but that doesn't mean you have to know everything. And it certainly doesn't mean that you are stupid if you make mistakes. That's called life, everyone makes mistakes, including stupid ones." Stan hesitated. “I knew a guy that was incredibly smart. Einstein level smart. Biggest nerd to ever live. He made mistakes too, some were pretty big.”

"Thanks, but," Dipper turned away again, "it isn't just one little mistake. People get hurt because of what I do. Mabel, Wendy and her friends almost were...I don't know, taken, killed, by ghosts. Several clones of me almost took over my life. The whole thing with Robbie. I couldn't handle being shorter than Mabel. Gideon almost took over the shack because of it. A candy monster almost ate us-"

"Slow down kid," Dipper was breathing fast, his arms holding himself. His body was shaking. Stan rubbed his shoulder hoping it would help. It seemed to do the trick, and although Dipper kept shaking, his breathing slowed down to a more or less reasonable pace. "I severely doubt that most, if not all, of those are your fault. Even if they technically were, you shouldn't blame yourself. This town is weird and weird things happen." Dipper didn't say anything. "Kid, think about it. Really think about it. Have you seriously done anything that gives you a valid reason for saying 'I'm not smart and cause everyone's problems'?" Silence fell between them. Stan was shocked to hear the words come out of his mouth. Maybe Dipper isn’t the only one who needs to talk. "If Mabel, or anyone else was in your shoes, would you say that they aren't smart? That they ruin everything?"

"I-I don't..." Dipper sniffled. "I-I don't know! I...I never know...it's always been the journal-" he broke into sobs, cutting himself off. Jeez, that's what he has been thinking this whole time? No wonder he has such big confidence issues.

Stan pulled Dipper into a hug. Dipper went quiet for a moment, shocked by the sudden embrace. He melted into Stan’s shoulder, crying. Stan felt the kid’s shallow and uneven breathing. "Kid, it's okay not to know. It's okay not to know what to do, it's even okay not to know that you aren't the issue. That can take time, trust me. What's important is that you don't believe that you are an issue." Dipper lifted his head from Stan’s shoulder and looked up at him. “Do you think you can say that out loud?” Stan wasn’t one for affirmations, but maybe it will work for Dipper.

"I-" Dipper's voice cracked. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. "I don't believe that I'm an issue." Dipper opened his eyes to see Stan's smile. Smiling himself, he dived into Stan for another hug, wrapping his arms around Stan’s torso. Stan hugged him back, occasionally hearing a quiet sob from the kid.

The two stayed like that for a while. Stan had no idea how much time had passed and didn’t care. Once he heard Dipper snoring, he figured it was time to go back inside. Tucking the kid into bed, he saw several marks on Dipper's arms. He noticed them before but never had a good look at them. Stan always had a decent idea of what they were but hoped that he was wrong. For the first time in his life, it hurt that he was right. The marks were scars. His mind went back to when Dipper woke up after the events of Mabel's play. The jacket. He never wore anything with long sleeves unless he needed to. He was hiding these.

Stan left the room silently. Why? Why would he hide them? Stan could only think of one reason, and it felt like his heart was being ripped apart. I'll make sure you get the help and support you need Dipper. The help and support I never got.

Chapter Text

“Mabel, what if he's lying? This thing could destroy the universe! Listen to your head!”

“Look into my eyes, Mabel! You really think I'm a bad guy?”

“He's lying! Shut it down NOW!”

Dipper’s eyes snapped open. The blankets that were covering him were in a disarray. Mabel was asleep, curled up in her bed. Dipper watched as she breathed, the blankets on her slowly raising and then falling. He used to not worry about whether the people around him were breathing. Now simply seeing his family brought relief to him. To have proof that they were alive and safe had become a constant need for Dipper. The events of the night before had been replaying in his mind ever since he and Mabel learned that Grunkle Stan had a twin brother. He almost convinced Mabel to shut the portal down. Stan would have lost his brother because of him. 30 years of work, just for him to make it all worthless.

Remembering the conversation he had with Stan a few days prior, he closed his eyes. “I’m not an issue…I’m not an issue…” he repeated to himself quietly.

Dipper debated whether to get up or not. When 15 minutes had passed and he was nowhere close to falling asleep, he decided to go downstairs. The house was eerily dark and empty. Stepping carefully, he made his way to the kitchen for a glass of water. Suddenly, he could hear sounds coming out of the kitchen. Dipper froze. Maybe I’m just imagining it- he heard a cabinet close. Nope, they’re real. Grabbing the baseball bat Stan hid underneath the couch cushions, he crept towards the kitchen.

I only ask for a small favor in return.

Dipper stopped. He squeezed his eyes shut. I'd never do a favor for you! His breathing quickened.

Well if you ever change your mind, I'll be here for you, ready to make a deeaaall.

No, no, no…no…no… Dipper heard the faucet in the kitchen turn on, snapping him out of his panic. Remembering what he was doing, he focused on getting a hold of himself and continued toward the sounds. Once he was just around the corner, he jumped out. “Stop right there!”

Dipper heard a shout and something large fell to the ground. “Hot belgian waffles!” The voice was familiar.

Dipper immediately reached for the light switch, flicking it on. “Grunkle Stan?”

“Dipper?” Stan squinted in his direction. He was on the floor along with a puddle of water. Blinking several times, he reached for an empty glass next to him. Joints crackled as he stood up. He stepped towards the fridge but stopped in his tracks. “Why do you have a baseball bat?”

All I want is a puppet!

Dipper narrowed his eyes. He tried to focus his blurry eyes on Stan's glasses. Are his eyes yellow? Is it a reflection? Who are you? “Why did you have the lights off?”

“Kid, I asked first.”

Everyone loves puppets. And it looks to me like you've got a surplus.

Dipper’s grip on the baseball bat tightened.

Sorry, kid but you're MY puppet, now!

“And I have the weapon.”

Stan’s eyes widened, realizing the situation. “Relax kid, it’s me. I have old eyes and I know the shack like the back of my hand. I didn’t want to blind myself for no reason.”

Dipper’s face burned and he dropped the bat. “Sorry Grunkle Stan. I thought you were…someone or something else.”

“I figured.” Stan examined the glass. Once he deemed it usable, he went to the fridge. “I don’t blame you, considering what we’ve been through.” Grabbing a pitcher, he filled the glass with water. “What we’ve just been through…” he mumbled. He looked at his water and then at Dipper. “Want some?”

“Yeah, actually.” Stan got another glass and filled it as well. “Thanks,” Dipper took a sip. The two stood in silence for a moment. Suddenly, they heard the vending machine door open. A man identical to Stan rushed into the room.

“I heard a commotion. Is everything all right?”

Stan rolled his eyes. “You heard that all the way down there? Uh-huh, sure Ford. Totally not because of some secret bugs you’ve planted around the shack or something.”

Ford watched his brother stick his head into a cabinet. “Stanley, you can stop looking for mics, there aren’t any in the cabinets.” Stan slowly brought his head out. “It’s an obvious hiding spot. A better place is in between the floor boards or inside door handles.”

“Wait, I was just kidding. You actually have this place bugged?”

“The security system was set up a while ago. I was surprised to see, sorry, hear that it was still working.” Stan stared at Ford. “What?”

Dipper had watched the two silently. He still was in shock that the author of the journals was living in the shack with them. Now, he standing right in front of him. When it was clear Stan wasn’t going to answer Ford’s question, Dipper cleared his throat. “Uh, everything is fine Great Uncle Ford,” Dipper scratched the back of his neck.

“Hm? Oh, yes.” Ford glanced at the baseball bat and spilt water on the floor. “I see,” he frowned. He thought to himself for a moment. “Well…I’ll return to the lab then.”

“Oh, um…Goodnight Great Uncle Ford!” Dipper waved despite Ford facing the other direction. He wasn’t sure if he was grateful Ford didn’t see him wave or wished that he did. Stan didn’t say anything. He just stared at the glass in his hand.

Ford paused. He looked back for a moment and offered a small smile. “...Goodnight Dipper.”

Stan and Dipper didn’t stay long after. They finished drinking their water and went back to bed. Mabel was still sleeping peacefully in her bed. Not feeling tired, Dipper grabbed a book. He got comfortable in his bed and started reading. Soon, he was fast asleep with an open book on top of him.

Chapter Text

“Perfect! This will protect us from Bill! As long as we're inside, our minds are safe.”

Dipper had just finished lining the Mystery Shack with unicorn hair. Ford was standing beside him, looking at Dipper with pride. Dipper grinned. “What now?” He wiped his hands on his shorts, smearing the glue he had used all over them.

Ford fixed his glasses. “What do you mean?”

“How do we stop Bill? Are we going to just wait for him to attack us?”

“Of course not, my boy. First, I’ll finish securing the Rift. After that, I’ll...” Ford’s voice trailed off. “Well, I’ll go to where he is hiding and put an end to his tyranny.”

Dipper gasped. “You mean, go back into the portal? But you just got back!”

“I know how to travel through the multiverse now. I would be back before you know it.”

“Not if you…if you…” Dipper couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. He grabbed his shorts out of habit only to get his hands covered with glue again. He wiped them off and stuck his hands into his pockets. Dipper’s ears turned pink and hoped that Ford didn’t notice the mess.

Luckily for him, Ford didn’t catch it. He simply stood there stunned. He wasn’t expecting someone to care that much, especially someone whom he had just met. Ford knelt on one knee, getting to Dipper’s eye level. “I know what I’m doing, Dipper. I’ll be fine.”

“When someone says that, usually they don’t come back fine. If they even come back at all.” He had read enough books to know that Ford's plan was extremely risky.

Ford didn’t know what to say. He hated to admit it, but Dipper was right. Although he had a method of killing Bill, he would have to deal with his henchmaniacs, not to mention Bill himself. There was a high chance that he would not come back through the portal. He sighed. “Alright, I’ll work on another plan.” Dipper relaxed and breathed a sigh of relief. He smiled at Ford, who returned it. If I can’t figure something out though, I’m going through the portal. Bill cannot win.

A previous conversation came floating back to Ford. He was at the table with Dipper and Mabel and asked them if they knew who Bill was. “Ah, yes! Dipper, I have been meaning to ask you something. Mabel said Bill turned you into a ‘living sock puppet’. Is this true?”

Dipper's smile dropped. Wicked laughter echoed in his ears. Yellow eyes. "...Sort of. I had to possess one of Mabel's puppets—don't ask—to talk." Dipper crossed his fingers in his pockets, hoping Ford wouldn't connect the dots. Unfortunately for him, his great uncle was great at that.

"Wait," Ford rubbed his temple, "so Bill had control of your body?" No wonder the boy was terrified of me earlier in the study. If Bill was indeed in control of me…Dipper may not have come out of that alive and he knows that. Concern grew on Ford’s face. Dipper’s face burned red, and Ford softened his expression.

The bat.

“A few nights ago, you thought that Stanley was possessed by Bill, didn’t you?” Dipper nodded sheepishly, rubbing his arm. Ford saw the scars for the first time and knew exactly where they were from. “My boy…” he reached for Dipper’s arm, but Dipper flinched. Ford slowly retracted, taking note of Dipper’s sudden change in breathing. He sighed and pulled up one of his sleeves and showed Dipper his arm. It was also covered in scars. “You aren’t the only one who has scars. In fact, most of mine are from mistakes and miscalculations.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely.”

Dipper was shocked. Ford, the author of the journals, made enough mistakes to cover his entire arm and probably his entire body. Relaxing a little, Dipper let Ford examine his arm. It was quiet between them, as the two thought to themselves. Ford noticed how most of the marks were lines of dots. Cipher, you sick bastard. What did you even do to him? It's like you jammed forks into his arm-

“I didn’t mean to,” Dipper blurted. His voice started strong but quickly dropped. His eyes stung and he looked down, his hat hiding his face. “I didn’t…I didn’t…”

"Breathe, Dipper." Ford gently grabbed both of Dipper’s shoulders. “What did you not mean to do?”

“I let Bill in! I let him in. He was going to kill Mabel! He left a note-” Ford heard a sharp sob, followed by quieter snivels. He let Dipper release his emotions for a moment. While he was curious about the night when Bill possessed Dipper, he could wait. Dipper needs help. “I think she did die,” Dipper eventually mumbled. "I think we both did.”

Ford’s blood ran cold. "How-"

“I’m not sure if we actually did, but we turned into wood. A ghost turned all of us into wood. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I thought being stuck in the mindscape was awful but at least I was still alive. It was so cold, Great Uncle Ford. That was all I could feel while also not feeling anything. I can't remember having thoughts. It's as if someone took a moment out of my head but left tiny, broken pieces. We might not have actually died, but it sure felt like it."

Ford sat down and pulled Dipper into a hug. He buried himself in Ford’s sweater. Perhaps I should consult with Stan after this, Ford thought to himself. I am certainly not qualified enough to help him alone. Would it be possible to get a therapist? Ford was brought out of his thoughts when he heard Dipper start to mumble to himself. He didn’t hear most of it and wasn’t trying to. Dipper rambled for several minutes, and Ford could feel Dipper relaxing more and more as he went on.

That is until he was able to catch Dipper mentioning Stan.

“...I believed it. I believed that I was weak. I believed that Grunkle Stan wanted to get rid of me.”

Ford's concern for Dipper grew immensely despite not knowing the context. "Dipper, I hope that you know that you are not weak. In fact, you are one of the strongest beings I have met."

Ford didn’t hear anything sound from Dipper except for the occasional sniffle. "It doesn't feel that way." Dipper finally said, pulling out of the hug. "I'm losing it, Great Uncle Ford. I can't sleep, I'm constantly worried that Mabel is…gone-" he choked on the last word.

"Dipper, you aren't losing it. You would be insane if you weren't having problems. However, this doesn't mean that it's good for you, especially with how severe it is." Again, Dipper went silent but this time, he never had a reply. He simply stared at the grass in between them.

Ford watched Dipper shift from emotional and worried to…nothing. His face was completely blank, and his eyes were empty. His breathing went from unsteady and fast to controlled and slow in a matter of seconds. It was slightly horrifying to watch. This is wrong. All of this is wrong. He shouldn’t have to be dealing with things like this, let alone be able to turn everything off like that. Despite his urge to try and help, Ford decided to let him be. Continuing would most likely hurt him more than it would help.

Neither said anything until dark grey clouds filled the sky and drops of water started to fall. “We should probably go back inside.” Dipper muttered. Without waiting for a response from Ford, he stood up. Ford followed suit and the two walked into the Mystery Shack. Mabel was watching “Ducktective” with Stan. Stan rolled his eyes, seeing the two together, but quickly realized that something was wrong.

He opened his mouth to say something, but Mabel was faster. “Want to join us, Dipper?” She asked cheerfully.

“Sure!” Dipper snapped back into his normal attitude. He plopped down next to his sister with a grin on his face. Mabel moved a bowl of snacks so it was between them. Ford and Stan looked at each other, both fully aware of Dipper’s strange behaviors.

Now that he was free to work, Ford debated whether to go back to the lab or not. While he preferred to do his work with no distractions, he didn’t like the idea of Dipper being out of his sight for long. He sat down at the dining table, pulling out his new journal. As he wrote about what he learned that day, frustration started building up inside of him. I need to be working, not writing. Dipper is with Mabel and Stan. If something abnormal happens, they’ll know notice…probably.

…not.

Ford chewed on his pen. No, I’m going to the lab. I’m being ridiculous- he heard the others burst out laughing.

“Striguee Forme is one of the best characters, hands down.”

“Agreed!”

“You have to admit though, he has a strange name.”

“No stranger than some of the characters in ‘The Duchess Approves’”

“Can it, Dipper.”

Ford smiled. Partially because of the joke none of the others seemed to be aware of. However, the main reason was because of watching his family goof off. It was relaxing in a way he would have never thought of. If they weren’t dealing with Bill, he would have watched with them. After more internal debating, he left the room sighing.

Stan had to hold his tongue. He was about to make a comment directed towards Ford but stopped himself. He didn’t spoil the kids’ mood. Go hide in your lab, Sixer. We’re all fine up here without you. Stan told himself that he didn’t care, that Ford could do whatever the hell he wanted. However, deep down he had hoped that his brother would have joined them. Stan knew he would enjoy the show if he sat down and watched it. Have fun with your nerd shit.

He certainly wasn’t expecting Ford to come back with his arms filled with books, papers and gadgets. He sat down on the floor, closer to them than he was before and began to scribble things down. Stan’s grin stretched from ear to ear.

“Ford, hand me a piece of paper, will you?”

Ford hesitantly handed Stan a sheet of paper. He knew Stan well enough to not trust that smile. “What do you need it for?”

“You’ll see.” Ford began to regret sitting so close to his brother. A few seconds later, he heard paper crumpling and immediately felt something hit his head.

“Thank you for that. I definitely needed that today, I feel so much better already.” Ford picked up the squished paper ball next to him. He opened it, fully expecting nothing to be there. Surely Stan is just trying to annoy me. Instead, he found two words, written in messy handwriting.

“Knock knock”

“Oh my god,” he rolled his eyes, a smile growing on his face. Underneath the words, he wrote, “Who’s there?” He threw it at Stan after crumpling it up. He didn’t get a chance to even think about his work before getting hit by the paper ball again.

“To”

“To who?”

“No, to whom”

Ford snorted and tried to hold back laughter. The joke was stupid and silly, but that just made it funnier. Stan laughed with him, proud that he was still able to make his brother laugh. A few minutes later, Ford threw the paper back at him.

“Organic chemistry is difficult; those who study it have alkynes of trouble.”

Stan tossed it back.

“Acid what you did there”

The two continued to joke around for a bit until Ford remembered what he was doing beforehand. Stan could tell Ford wanted to go back to work and let him return to his work. He chuckled, replaying the last half hour in his head. That’s the Ford I remember.

“Goodnight, Grunkle Stan! Goodnight Great Uncle Ford!”

“Goodnight, kiddos!”

“Goodnight, children!”

Dipper and Mabel hugged their grunkles and rushed to the attic. Stan chuckled. Ford was picking up the stuff he had brought from the lab. “They sure are great kids.”

“Definitely,” Stan agreed. His smile soon dropped as he thought about earlier in the day. “Ford?”

His brother’s head popped up. “Yes, Stanley?”

“What happened with Dipper earlier?”

Ford took a moment to answer. “Honestly, I’m not sure. One moment, he was having a break down and the next he was a robot.”

“Wait, break down? What the hell were you doing to the kid?”

“I didn’t do anything. I would never intentionally hurt him!” Ford hesitated. “Do you really think so little of me?”

His question hit Stan like a bullet. “What? Of course not! I spent 30 years getting you back, I wouldn’t do that for just anyone.” Silence fell between them. Stan cleared his throat, “look, there’s a reason why I wanted the kids to stay away from you. You are always doing something dangerous. Fighting some squid thing, building a fucking portal to god knows where.”

Ford went back to organizing his things, his speed much faster than before due to irritation. “The portal itself was fine-”

“But making a deal with a demon was stupid as hell.”

Ford stood up suddenly, papers flying out of his lap. “I made a mistake, and I’m trying to fix it. Thank you for reminding me that the past is fixed and unchangeable. Again.”

“I mean, really Sixer? You decided that the most fucked up town on Earth alone wasn’t enough and figured ‘oh yeah, this portal idea from an all-powerful being that I only see in my head sounds real swell. There’s no way he could be using me!’.”

Ford clenched his jaw. “You are acting just like you did 30 years ago. You think that you know everything. Well grow up! You don’t know everything. You don’t know Bill. You don’t know me and what I was going through!” His shouts echoed around the room.

Stan glared at him. “You’re right, I don’t know everything.” He breathed heavily. His hands were balled-up fists. “But I certainly know some things. ’I know it sounds crazy, but a strange being from a higher plane took sympathy with my search for knowledge and amazingly chose me to be a receptacle for divine and otherworldly insight.’”

Ford’s eyes widened. “Wait-”

“‘It is an idea so pure and powerful I never could have thought of it on my own. Sometimes I cannot believe how lucky I am to have come across my blessed Muse.’” Stan had read all three journals countless times. He knew a lot more than his brother realized.

“Stanley-”

“‘Don’t forget what happened to Icarus.’ ‘He didn’t flap hard enough.’”

Ford charged Stan. He fell backwards, grunting as his back hit the floor. Before Ford could pin him down, Stan threw a punch, catching Ford off guard. He pushed Ford over, switching their places so he was now on top. Unfortunately for Stan, Ford was much better at fighting now than he was when they were kids. Ford kicked Stan off of him. He tumbled to the ground, slamming into the wall.

Ford froze. No, not again…He backed up, giving Stan some space. He could see a younger Stan in front of him with a searing burn on his back. “Stan, we are not going to go through this again.”

“Why, not? Afraid of losing to me A massive screwup?” Stan used the couch for support as he got up. “I don’t blame you.”

“What?” Ford stood there, stunned. “Stan-”

“You know, usually if someone doesn’t want to fight, they don’t start the fight. Make up your goddamn mind-”

“WILL. YOU. GUYS. STOP!” The twins jumped, looking towards the stairs. There stood an angry Mabel. “Why can’t you guys just get along. Fighting doesn’t help anything! Try hugging or baking treats together or anything else that’s happy.” Her voice started cracking. “Just please, stop fighting.”

“Mabel…hey, come here,” Stan opened his arms. Mabel ran straight to him, hugging him tightly. “I’m sorry, pumpkin. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Guilt flooded him. He forgot how easily anger and frustration bothered Mabel.

“I apologize as well, Mabel. Things were indeed getting out of hand.”

“Thanks, but you guys need to apologize to each other, not me.” The two of them looked at each other and quickly looked away, both suddenly uncomfortable. When no one said anything, Mabel stepped out of the hug. “I know it can be difficult, but I know you guys can do it!” She sniffled.

Ford glanced at Stan, seeing that he was already looking at Ford. They knew neither was willing to apologize and that Mabel would force them to stand there for hours until they did.

Stan gritted his teeth. “I’m sorry, Ford.”

“I’m sorry, Stan.”

Mabel knew they weren’t being sincere. It was obvious they didn’t mean it. However, she didn’t mind. They weren’t ready and couldn’t be forced. At least this could be considered as a step closer to them bonding. “Now what goes better with apologizes than Mabel’s ‘world famous’ Sundae Swirled Cookies?” She smiled, bringing the attention away from the situation.

“Sorry Mabel, but it’s late and you need to go back to bed. You can make them tomorrow.” Stan ruffled her hair.

“I’m holding you to that. Grunkle Ford, can I have that in writing?”

He nodded, grabbing a pen and sticky note. When he was done, he stuck it to Stan’s forehead, smirking.

Stan frowned, taking the sticky note off. Quickly, he lightened up. “Goodnight, kiddo. Again.”

Mabel giggled. “Goodnight again, Grunkle Stan. Goodnight again Grunkle Ford.” She gave each of them a hug.

Ford and Stan stood awkwardly, after she left. “‘Sundae Swirled Cookies’?”

“One of her baking inventions. A cookie that tastes like ice cream. It’s a go to treat when she’s overwhelmed.”

“I look forward to trying them.”

Neither of them could think of what to say. They were still bitter about earlier, but the anger had faded away. “I’m gonna put a movie on. You’re free to join,” Stan offered. Although it was late, he didn’t feel like sleeping.

“Stanley, I have to work-”

“On your plans to defeat Bill, yadda yadda yadda. Ford, you’ve been working all afternoon on them, and I know you are going to work through the night. Take a break, will ya?”

Ford thought about it. Breaks do maintain productivity and I certainly don’t want to wear myself out. “Thanks for the offer...but I’m going to pass.” I’ll take one later. I am fully functional right now and should get the most out of it.

Stan let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine. Good luck with your bullshit.” Stan turned on the TV and Ford left without saying a word. He glanced over to where Ford was sitting before. “Why can’t I fix this?” He mumbled to himself.