Chapter Text
The secret was out, but Shifty had never been very good at keeping them to begin with. And they were relieved for it, truly. They felt looser than they had in years, no longer resigned to two minutes of dropping a shift in a locked bathroom. The only small issue was that the secret was sort of out for everyone. And everyone meant the entire town.
“Um, thank you, Mr. Mayor Tyler,” Shifty said, rushing around the Mystery Shack yard to replenish plastic cups for punch, already dreading the cleanup. “I can’t say I ever considered acting as a traffic light until we can get the one on Main Street replaced.”
Tyler’s face lit up. “So you’ll do it?”
“Oh, I think Wendy’s calling me,” Shifty said evasively. “Gotta run!”
They practically sprinted away before Tyler could ask any follow up questions. Wendy grinned, standing by the totem pole with chips in hand. “Had enough of fame?”
“People keep asking if I do birthday parties or something,” Shifty complained. “And then when I say no, they keep asking ‘then why are you doing this party?’ as if I’m not personally invested. I live here.”
Wendy laughed, which only irritated Shifty more. “Sorry man, you’re a local celebrity now. Hey, you should turn into what you really look like and chase the next guy who asks you to shift into something stupid or another–”
“No!” Shifty said, appalled, and then paused, considering it without even meaning to. Then they shook their head again, a little more reluctantly. “...no…”
“Suit yourself,” Wendy shrugged. “Eh, they’ll probably tire themselves out from bugging you soon enough.”
“They better,” Shifty said, but couldn’t find it in themselves to be truly irritated.
The weather was a perfect temperature today, and a few billowing clouds soared carelessly across a cerulean sky. People milled about, laughing with each other, filled with unspeakable relief that the wind didn’t smell like blood. It was a beautiful day to turn thirteen.
They had pulled a birthday party together by the skin of their teeth in a shack that was just barely repaired, aided by the rest of the town out of goodwill. Stan groused that he better not have anyone asking for favors after this, but his irritation didn’t reach his eyes. He was happy, happier than he’d been in a long time, probably.
Mabel and Dipper seemed to thrive under all the attention, Soos got to DJ again, and Stanford wasn’t hanging out in the back of the party like he was studying everyone. Even Shifty felt better, looser now that they were largely hanging around the house in their true form. They had even built up the reckless courage to reveal their actual body to Soos and Wendy. Soos had said they looked like a video game character, and Wendy complained that they didn’t look scarier.
All in all, though, the party was going well. The entire town seemed to have shown up for their heroes.
“Yeesh,” Stan huffed, appearing besides Shifty and Wendy. “These partygoers better be the ones cleaning up the decorations, ‘cause I sure as hell ain’t bending over for every piece of confetti.”
“You bought the confetti,” Wendy pointed out.
“Oh, we got a volunteer for cleanup duty,” Shifty said brightly.
“What?!”
“I heard the same thing,” Stan said. “Thanks, Wendy, you’re one in a million.”
She scowled. “Hey, I don’t–”
“Stanley! Shifty!” Stanford seemed to materialize, looking deadly serious. “May I speak to you two for a minute? In private?”
Shifty’s stomach dropped, and Stan looked stricken. “Why?! What’s wrong?! Is it the kids?!”
“What?” Stanford looked confused. “No, nothing’s wrong. Why would you think that?”
“You–?!” Shifty sighed. “Because you came up to us all seriously! What did you think we were going to do?!”
“Ah,” Stanford managed to look sheepish. “Apologies. Well, nothing’s wrong. I’d just like to speak to you two for a moment.”
Stan and Shifty glanced at each other for a moment before Stan shrugged, following
Stanford behind the shack. “You’re technically on the clock,” Shifty warned Wendy, before following.
“No I’m not–”
Stanford had a habit of standing in the most imposing way possible, even when he was objectively happy and relaxed. Shifty suspected it might be a side effect of decades of multiversal travel, watching his back. But even with his too straight posture, he was grinning ear to ear.
“I didn’t want to say this with everyone listening,” Stanford said. “But we do have a problem.”
“...why are you smiling then?” Stan asked.
“I’m not,” Stanford said, struggling to keep his face neutral. “Weirdmageddon has been stopped, but I’ve been tracking anomalies in the Arctic ocean, off the coast of Greenland. I want to investigate it, but…I’m too old to go it alone.”
Shifty blinked. “I saw you do a flip off the roof of the shack.”
“Lucky landing,” Stanford said, looking pleased with himself.
“Wait, hold on,” Stan said. “So you’re saying you might need some pals to, I dunno, just spitballing here, sail around the world and have the adventure of a lifetime?”
Stanford’s grin returned full force, and Shifty’s mouth dropped open.
“Not just some pals,” Stanford said earnestly. “The both of you.”
He reached into his trenchcoat pocket, withdrawing a folded photograph that had been to hell and back. Shifty leaned in closer to get a better look, suddenly face to face with two identical little boys, sunburned to hell and back, standing on a dilapidated sailing boat like two hunters standing over a lion. The photograph was browned with aged, with a few scorch marks and mysterious stains, but Shifty knew those smiles anywhere.
“Is that…” Shifty glanced between Stan and Stanford. “Is that you two?”
Stanford nodded. “A long time ago.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a picture of you when you were kids,” Shifty said. “You look…you look happy.”
“We were,” Stan said, almost dream-like.
“It was our dream to sail around the world, see it all together, a new adventure every day,” Stanford said. “And…I know it’s been a long time, and so much has happened, for both of you, but…will you give me another chance?”
Shifty paused, their mind racing, but Stan’s face split into a grin to match even Stanford’s. “Think we’ll find treasure? And babes?”
“I’d say there’s a high probability,” Stanford said, overjoyed, and turned to Shifty. “Shifty?”
“...um,” Shifty said, at a loss for words.
Stanford’s smile faltered slightly, and then he nodded, understanding. “I…that’s alright, I’m not hurt. I know it’s a lot to ask, and you might not be ready–”
“No, no!” Shifty shook their head. “No, this looks…this looks incredible, really. The kind of adventures they put in movies, good movies. It’s…I just…”
Stan and Stanford were quiet, waiting patiently. Shifty gestured around vaguely. “I just…I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. For the first time in my life maybe, everything’s sorted out. I know where I stand. I know what I’m supposed to be doing. I’m…I don’t know. I don’t feel trapped, like I’m slogging through the day and waiting for the next horrible thing to happen. People know me. They really know me, and they don’t care about the weird parts of me. I put a lot into my life here, and it feels like it only just started for real. I’d…I’d like to see it through, at least for now.”
Stanford smiled slightly, nodding. “That…I see. I understand.”
“Well,” Stan said, clapping Shifty on their back hard enough to make them stumble slightly, smiling easily. “No worries, Mouser, it’s not like there’s not plenty of adventure to be had here–”
“I think you should go,” Shifty blurted out, a little more forcefully than they meant too.
They both stared at them for a moment, surprised, and then Stan snorted. “Come on, don’t try to get rid of me now–”
“That’s not–”
“Shifty,” Stanford said gently. “There’s no reason to feel like you’re keeping us from anything, we’d be happy anywhere–”
“It’s not out of guilt,” Shifty said. “I-I…this was your dream since you were little kids. I don’t want you to stay in Gravity Falls just because you feel obligated to, or you’re worried about me. I’m okay. I’m fine. This isn’t…this isn’t like the other times someone left. You’ll come back.”
And then, because there was a little leftover fear in their heart: “Right?”
“Of course,” Stanford said immediately, and Stan nodded emphatically. “This town is my home. This is still technically my house.”
Stan snorted. “Of course he’s still on about that. But yeah, Mouser. We’re always gonna end up back here.”
Shifty let out a breath they hadn’t even realized they were holding.
“Then…” Shifty nodded. “I think…I think you should go.”
Stanford and Stan glanced at each, and Shifty nearly smiled when they saw them have a silent conversation, just like the kids had done a million times. “...are you sure?” Stanford finally said. “Shifty, truly, we won’t be disappointed if you’d like us to stay.”
“Yeah,” Stan nodded. “Plenty of monsters to punch ‘round here. A little thin on the babes, but I heard there’s this thing called online dating now, which seems fun.”
Oh god, Shifty thought, but instead said: “I’m sure. I’m completely sure. I’ll be okay. I can take care of myself. And…and if I can’t…I’m not alone. There’s a whole town.”
Stanford smiled brightly, in a way Shifty hadn’t seen since before he fell through the portal. That smile was becoming more and more common these days. Stan punched Shifty’s shoulder lightly, but he was smiling too.
“Well, guess we gotta find you a new job then,” Stan said, glancing at the Mystery Shack. “Unless you wanna become the next Mr. Mystery, no one’s gonna be able to run tours now.”
“I’d rather go spelunking than do tours every day,” Shifty said seriously, and Stan rolled his eyes.
Stanford hummed. “I can’t say I love the idea of you rattling around in a house all by yourself, though, maybe we’d do better to sell it. How do we list the basement lab? Can we just pretend it’s not there?”
“No way,” Stan shook his head. “We can sell it for way more if we include the extra space. Just say you were a doomsday prepper or something, it’s basically true.”
Shifty glanced back towards the party, seeing people begin to mill towards the front in preparation to start passing out cake slices. Soos was carrying a cake through the crowd, expertly weaving around people, carrying it above his head. People were starting to sing the birthday song, everyone starting at different times and in different keys. It sounded terrible, and they didn’t think they wanted it any other way.
Shifty felt their face split into a smile. “I have a better idea. But let’s go–I don’t want to miss the kids blowing out the candles.”
(Soos screamed like he had won the lottery when Stan offered him the role of Mr. Mystery, hugging him so hard Shifty was worried that one of Stan’s ribs might crack. But Shifty couldn’t keep themselves from laughing at Stan’s expression)
*** *** ***
Gravity Falls was a place that held still in the early morning, no matter what.
The sun was just beginning to peak over the jagged mountains, turning the sky gentle lavender. Dew clung to the plants, soaking any leftover bits of confetti and disintegrating them into a fine paste. A few crickets still chirped, up past their bedtime, as robins began to sing, searching for any worms tricked into surfacing by the wet earth.
Shifty stood at a bus stop, strangely jittery.
Summer was over, at least for Mabel and Dipper. They stood side by side, staring sleepily at the lonely road before they. They hadn’t slept–no one had, between last minute panicked packing brought on by procrastination, and the knowledge that sleeping would only make this moment come more quickly. But time ticked on, no matter how much Shifty glared at the clock.
Shifty would return to the attic today, their permanent room. Soos’ abuelita would move into their summer abode, once Stanford’s office, bringing in a real bed and turning the place into her own. Shifty would find glitter in places Mabel shouldn’t have been able to reach, desiccated and chewed-on pens hidden away in the back of the closet like a murderer hid bodies. The room wouldn’t really feel like theirs again, at least not completely. They found they didn’t mind in the slightest.
“Are you sure you guys don’t need us to stay forever?” Mabel said, only half-joking.
“Don’t need a kidnapping charge added to my rap sheet,” Stan said.
“My rap sheet,” Stanford said, without much venom. Stan just shrugged.
Dipper looked no less anxious. “And you guys will be okay on a boat and stuff? All alone? What if something happens? What if you need help? What if–”
“I can assure you,” Stanford said quickly, before Dipper could spin out. “We’re taking the utmost precautions.”
“Soos already found us a fishing boat using the computer in his phone. It’s old, but it has a certain, uh,” Stan paused. “A certain jenny say caw.”
Stanford looked at him. “What? Are you alright?”
“You know,” Stan said, motioning vaguely. “The French thing.”
“Are you,” Shifty blinked. “Are you trying to say ‘je ne sais quoi'?!"
“That’s the one,” Stan nodded, ignoring Stanford’s and Shifty’s sideways looks. “McGucket’s gonna trick it out, and we’re probably gonna have some crazy weaponry out of it,” Stan grinned. “It’ll be fun!”
“And you’ll write and call and stuff?” Mabel asked.
“You’re going to be sick of us,” Stanford said solemnly, and that got a small smile out of the kids.
“And Remy?” Dipper said carefully. “You’ll…you’ll be okay?”
Shifty nodded, and for once they felt like they really meant it. “I’ll be okay.”
“And you’ll write and call and stuff too?” Mabel asked, looking earnest.
Shifty nodded immediately. “You’re going to be sick of all of us.”
“Nuh uh,” Dipper said.
A mechanical wheeze echoed from down the road, and like a lazy cat coming home for dinner, a bus began to amble its way over the hill and towards the bus stop. Shifty felt the entire group stiffen, including themselves.
Mabel launched herself at her friends, hugging them tightly. “You guys are the best friends a girl could ask for!” She said, starting to get teary. “Call me all the time, okay? Even about stupid stuff, I wanna hear about it!”
“We’ll miss you, Mabel,” Candy said, hugging Mabel back tightly.
“Yeah!” Grenda said, lifting both Candy and Mabel off the ground to hug them. Shifty winced, briefly worried for the ribs of both girls.
“Um,” Dipper said, turning to Soos and Wendy. “We’ll miss you guys–”
“Don’t worry, dude!” Soos said. “The shack’s in good hands. Me and Remy’s hands! It’s gonna be great.”
“I’m going to have to re-balance the accounts,” Shifty groaned, and Wendy rolled her eyes.
“Hey,” she said, yanking off her trapper hat. She snatched Dipper’s hat in the same moment, and before he could protest, plopped her hat on top of his head. “Something to remember me by. And–”
She shoved an envelope into his hands, and Shifty grinned, already knowing what was inside. They had signed it, after all. “-open this up when you miss Gravity Falls.”
Dipper’s eyes lit up, and he grinned just as the bus pulled to a stop, the doors stuttering open. The bus driver glanced at them, looking surprised to see so many people at the stop. Before anyone could move, Waddles–brought to say goodbye–plodded placidly forward, nudging Mabel’s hand with a grunt.
Mabel flinched. “O-oh, oh, Waddles, I wanna take you home, but…mom and dad won’t let me have a pig, so…so you have to stay here.”
She tried to take a few steps toward the bus, but Waddles grabbed her sleeve with his mouth, pulling at her. Mabel sniffled, looking miserable. “Waddles, stop! Don’t make this harder than it has to be–”
“Oh, for God’s sake–!” Stan burst out, scooping the pig off the ground. “I put up with this waste of bacon for a whole summer, now it’s your parents’ turn!”
Stan dropped Waddles on the bus steps. “Hey, driver! You’re taking this pig back to California!”
The driver looked down at Stan from the tip of his nose, unimpressed. “Can’t you read? The sign clearly says no pets–”
Stan’s knuckles glinted with something that looked a lot like his brass knuckles, and Stanford moved his trenchcoat to reveal one of his blasters, strapped to his hip. Shifty growled, low and angry, for good measure.
The driver turned the color of fresh snow. “W-welcome aboard, pig.”
Waddles calmly walked into the bus, content to wait for his people and get a head start on napping.
Mabel turned back to them with a huge smile, relieved. “Thanks for wearing my goodbye sweater, Grunkle Stan.”
“Eh,” Stan scratched the back of his neck, wearing a bright pink sweater that read ‘GOODBYE GRUNKLE STAN!’ in multicolored felt letters. “It’s cold out.”
Shifty opened their mouth to antagonize him, but Mabel suddenly ripped open her suitcase. “Speaking of! I got really down to the wire on this one for you, Remy!”
“She hasn’t slept for like three days,” Dipper said. “She’s had the lights on at night too.”
“Sh,” Mabel said, and pulled out the sweater that used to have a unicorn on it, and had been resized to fit Shifty’s human form. “Ta-da!”
“What’s this?” Shifty asked, taking the sweater, and their breath caught in surprise.
Somehow, despite only seeing it a few times, Mabel had stitched a near perfect copy of their real face onto the sweater, white with pink eyes, smiling. Somehow, she had even managed to make their true smile look friendly.
“Oh,” Shifty said, suddenly worried that their voice was wobbling. “Oh, Mabel…thank you. It’s…it’s wonderful.”
“Who’s that on there?” Candy said, looking at the sweater.
“Oh, a hero,” Dipper said easily. “From one of Remy’s comics.”
“Something like that,” Shifty said hoarsely, smiling.
“Oh, and–” Dipper looked a little sheepish, digging out his own envelope and handing it to Shifty. This envelope was far larger, and even with the added space, was practically bulging. “Um, this is from me, and also kinda Mabel. She helped–”
“He begged me for help on this,” Mabel grinned as Dipper turned red. “Poor guy didn’t even know how to operate a glue gun, but we’ll make an artist outta him yet!”
“Glue gun?” Shifty asked, going to open the envelope, but Dipper shook his head wildly.
“Just, um!” He coughed. “Open it when you get home, please?”
“Oh, yeah,” Shifty nodded. “Sure.”
The bus driver coughed. “Um, we have a schedule–”
“Watch it,” Stan warned, and the driver flinched.
With a slight wince, Stan knelt down to the kids’ heights. “Now, listen,” he said, his voice suddenly a little wobbly. “You kids have been nothing but a pain in my butt all summer, a-and I’m glad to be rid of you–”
Mabel and Dipper ignored him entirely, lurching forward to hug him tightly, tearful. “We’ll miss you too, Grunkle Stan,” Mabel said.
“Yeah,” Dipper said. “Old man smell and all.”
Shifty blinked rapidly, but had a feeling they were doing a terrible job of disguising their tears. They found they weren’t too upset about it. The twins abruptly moved to hug Stanford, and he eagerly leaned down to hug them back.
“Try to keep Grunkle Stan out of trouble,” Mabel said, and ignored it with a giggle when Stan rolled his eyes.
“Oh, I don’t think anyone’s up for that job,” Stanford said.
“And if you discover something crazy and cool,” Dipper said. “Tell me before you alert the media.”
“Dipper,” Stanford said solemnly. “You will absolutely be the first to hear about it.”
“Hey, this is really sweet and all,” the driver said. “But, um, I’m trying not to get fired for me behind–”
Shifty was about to turn into something terrifying and sharp when the kids suddenly lunged for them, nearly knocking them over. Shifty stumbled slightly, and then hugged them back tightly.
“Bye Remy,” Mabel said, starting to tear up again.
“Bye Remy,” Dipper said, blinking rapidly under his new-old trapper hat.
“...bye guys,” Shifty said, aware they were crying and not really caring to stop it. They wondered if there was anything left to say, something wise that they could impart the twins with, and came up empty. They had never really been one for wisdom. So instead they just said the truth: “I’ll miss you.”
It still felt terrible when the kids finally stepped away, and they had half a mind to hold onto them and carry them back to the house, a kid under each arm. But they forced themselves to stay put, swallowing hard when the kids went to the bus like knights walking up to face a dragon.
“...ready?” Dipper asked Mabel.
“Nope!” Mabel declared, smiling slightly like it was a private joke of theirs. “...let’s go home.”
They stepped onto the bus, and the doors shut with a click that spoke of finality. The bus belched black smoke, and began to pull away from the stop.
The kids pressed their faces against the window, waving furiously, and Shifty waved back, following the bus as it began to crawl away. Apparently, everyone else had the same idea, chasing after the bus and shouting goodbyes and assurances to stay in touch.
The bus picked up speed, and Shifty barely considered the pros and cons before they dropped their gifts and changed into a rabbit, ignoring the bus driver’s disbelieving look. They sprinted after the bus, keeping up as Mabel and Dipper’s faces lit up to see them keeping pace. Mabel lifted Waddles to wriggle one of his arms in a goodbye.
They ran, chasing after something as a rabbit for the first time ever instead of fleeing, until the bus finally outran even them, disappearing into the Oregon morning, mist still clinging to the mountains. They wondered what California looked like at this time of day. Maybe one day they would see it. The prospect didn’t seem out of reach now, or even particularly scary.
The drive back to the house was silent, but not unpleasantly so. Stan loudly said that he was going to take a nap, but his eyes were red. Stanford quietly said he was going to get some logistical work done for his and Stan’s trip, but his eyes were also red. Shifty shrugged into their true form once they were inside and there was no need to worry about alarming the general public, and quietly said they were going to move their stuff back into the attic, and no, they didn’t need any help, thanks.
They stood in an attic that was theirs once more, alone. A bare twin sized mattress sat in the corner of the room, the very same Stan had gotten them as a child. Mabel had used it over the summer, and through the morning light it shimmered slightly now. They wondered if they should try and go for a larger mattress, now that they intended to sleep in their true form. It was a dizzying prospect, but not a frightening one.
Adruptly, they remembered the unopened gift.
Slowly, they sat back down on the mattress, using their more nimble fingers to open up the envelope, surprised when a slightly sticky, large piece of construction paper practically burst out. Instantly, they saw why Dipper had needed to borrow a glue gun.
The ripped pieces of their comics, destroyed in Gideon’s attack, stared out at them. Countless pages of characters, dialogue, and action, thoughtfully collaged together in a sort of ‘best of’ presentation, without a single bit of misused space. In the center, like a crown jewel, was one of the few photographs of the summer that Shifty had actively participated in.
The kids had been out for most of Summerween, trick-or-treating (and likely getting into trouble) as Stan waged a failing psychological war on his own trick-or-treaters. He had tried to bribe Shifty into scaring the kids who kept harassing the shack, but it was more entertaining to watch Stan try and fail to scare them than it was reading a new comic or having the TV to themselves.
They hadn’t bothered dressing up, watching terrible movies on the public channels while listening to Stan grow more and more irate, before the kids eventually returned home, and Stan entered with pillowcases full of stolen candy.
The picture was Shifty–in their human shape–sitting on the recliner with Mabel and Dipper on either side of them in matching peanut butter and jelly costumes. Shifty was grinning, opening a piece of candy, Dipper was laughing at something Shifty had said, and only Mabel seemed to know her picture was being taken, smiling at the camera.
In big, comic book cutout letters, the picture was caption: OUR HERO!
Shifty sniffed once, twice, and didn’t stop crying for a while.
But when they stopped, for once, they didn’t feel like the world had ended.
In fact, it felt like it had started again.
*** *** ***
Shifty stared at the ocean, dark gray waters churning, the distinct smell of salt in the air. They squinted, trying to spot land across the sea, but all they could see was the line between the ocean and the cloudy sky, muddled together. Like if they sailed far enough, the ocean would eventually carry them into the clouds. It was more disconcerting than they wanted to admit.
The farewell party for Stan and Stanford was much smaller. Candy and Grenda were safely back home in Gravity Falls, probably still in class. Wendy was about the same, though she had fought valiantly to be there for the sendoff, unfortunately finding that she couldn’t escape high school. Soos had wished them an extremely tearful goodbye, swamped with tours already. Apparently, people were excited to meet the new Mr. Mystery. Shifty couldn’t blame them.
“Lookin’ good!” Fiddleford’s head popped up from below deck like a groundhog emerging from a burrow, grinning. “Got enough artillery to fight a small Navy!”
“I don’t know if that’s necessary,” Shifty said, exploring the ship, outfitted with so many gadgets that it looked more like a spaceship than a boat.
Fiddleford shook his head, tsking. “You never know. Maybe they gotta fight Atlantis or something.”
“Hm,” Shifty said, changing back into their human shape before they stepped out of the kitchenette and onto the deck. There weren’t many people in the tiny marina, but they didn’t want to take any chances. Newport wasn’t Gravity Falls, after all.
“It’s cold,” Shifty complained loudly, and Stan popped his head around the corner, looking halfway amused.
“It’s the ocean, Mouser,” he rolled his eyes. “It’s gonna be cold.”
“This is too much water,” Shifty decided, looking uncomfortably at the waves smacking lazily against the side of the boat. “I can’t see what’s down there at all.”
Stan snorted. “Most oceans are like that. Ain’t gonna be like it is on TV.”
“And you’re just okay with that?” Shifty asked nervously.
Stan frowned, amusement suddenly gone. “You alright?”
“Um,” Shifty said, forcing themselves to look away from the ocean. “Yeah, I think so. It’s just…I don’t know. A lot.”
Stan nodded. “Listen, uh, if you changed your mind–”
“N-no,” Shifty said immediately. “No, I still want you to go, just…this doesn’t freak you out?”
“What, the ocean?” Stan shrugged. “Nah, we grew up on the shore, remember? It’s all the same water–”
“No, I mean–” Shifty took a breath. “Just…what if something happens?”
Stan stepped forward, putting his hand on Shifty’s shoulder and squeezing gently. “We’re gonna be fine, kid. Got a lotta life left in us yet. Plus, I think McGucket made this thing literally unsinkable. And you know that Sixer’s always packing heat.”
Shifty said nothing, still uneasy, but Stan looked far more confident than they felt. “...we’ll be back,” he said firmly. “Nothing on earth or otherwise can keep us away for long.”
Shifty nearly smiled. “You can’t promise that.”
“We survived the end of the world,” Stan said. “And you think a storm’s gonna keep us from coming home for the holidays? Get real.”
Shifty laughed, just barely, and Stan grinned. “Come on, let’s make sure that my brother and the hillbilly aren’t sucking face or something.”
“You know about them?” Shifty asked in surprise, following Stan. “And you don’t care?”
Stan snorted. “Sixer’s not nearly as secretive about his preferences as he thinks he is. I grew up with the guy, remember? And really, this is a perfect match for him. Another screwball nerd.”
He clapped loudly when he entered below deck, and as it happened, Fiddleford and Stanford had been speaking softly before they jumped, startled. “Everybody decent?”
Stanford instantly turned beet red. “Stanley–”
“Jus’ about ready for y’all to cast off,” Fiddleford said quickly, standing up and looking slightly embarrassed. “Lemme just–uh, you know, final checks–”
“Right, sure,” Stan said, following Fiddleford and Stanford out.
Shifty bumped against Stanford. “You’re lucky that Fiddleford has that big house with private rooms now, huh?”
Somehow, Stanford’s face got even more red. “We aren’t–I’m not–Shifty, now is hardly the time to rekindle any relationships–I mean, down the line, maybe, but–”
Shifty just grinned, maybe slightly more amused by his blustering than they should have been. It was starting to rain when they emerged above deck, the sky misting down chilly water on them, and Shifty shivered again.
“Looks all good,” Fiddleford said, looking pleased with his work. “Ain’t nothing but an act of God that’ll sink this thing now.”
He knocked three times on the wooden railing, and Shifty nearly laughed.
“Thank you, Fiddleford,” Stanford said sincerely. “I…I truly can’t overstate how grateful I am for your help.”
“Get a room,” Stan whispered to Shifty, and they snickered, covering their mouth.
At least Stanford and Fiddleford didn’t seem to notice. Fiddleford, for his part, suddenly looked a little lost, frowning slightly. “I guess…this is it, huh? Y’all are ready to go.”
“Right on schedule,” Stanford said, glancing at his sci-fi looking watch, but he didn’t look particularly enthused, suddenly confronted with the finality of leaving port.
“You getting cold feet, Poindexter?” Stan asked.
“No, I…” Stanford took a breath. “It’s just a strong feeling of deja vu, I suppose. I–Shifty, are you alright?”
“Hm?” Shifty hadn’t realized how stiffly they were standing until all eyes were on them, and they forced themselves to relax. “I-I’m okay, I just…I think I just realized how this is the first time I’ll be away from you both. And I-I’m okay, really, I’ll be fine, it’s just…it feels weird.”
“Shifty…”
“I’m okay,” Shifty said, not sure who had said their name. “I’m okay. Just…send me a postcard or something.”
Stanford stared at them for a brief moment, and then took a hesitant step forward, looking like he didn’t really know what to do. His hand came up slightly, like it had so many times since he had returned, and for the first time Shifty finally realized what he had been trying to do.
They nearly sighed, but instead, leaned forward and hugged Stanford tightly.
Stanford stiffened briefly, a little surprised to be embraced, but then returned the hug almost immediately, holding them in a way that rocketed them back to their early days, when the world was one room big and they only needed a single person to keep them safe.
He even smelled a little like lemons again.
“Hey, lemme in on this,” Stan said, but his voice sounded thick, nearly barging his way into the hug. Shifty nearly laughed, clinging to them both, committing their scents to memory once again. They were both different, but it wasn’t terrifying like it had been just last week.
“You’ll be alright?” Stanford asked, still sounding uncertain. “I know you’re probably sick of me asking, but I can’t help but worry.”
“I’m okay,” Shifty insisted, nodding. “I-I’m okay. I won’t be alone. It’s different this time. I’m different.”
“...I’m proud of you, Mouser,” Stan said, a little quickly, like he was afraid the words might evaporate.
“As am I,” Stanford said softly. “You’ve…you’ve really grown up, haven’t you? I suppose we all did.”
When they finally pulled away reluctantly, their eyes were wet from more than seawater and rain. “...I’ll miss you.”
“Us too, kid,” Stan nodded, looking like he was just barely holding it together. “We’ll send you so many postcards you won’t know what to do with ‘em.”
“We’ll be back before you know it,” Stanford said. “Thanksgiving, at the very latest.”
“Okay,” Shifty said, and was amazed even now to find that they believed them, tentatively, but believed them all the same. “O-okay.”
“...I love you, Shifty,” Stanford said, quiet enough that Shifty almost missed it. “Take care of yourself.”
“Love you too, kid,” Stan said.
Shifty sniffed, rubbing at their eyes. “I love you guys too.”
The goodbyes stretched out even then, promises to stay in touch to an almost overwhelming degree, Stanford quietly asking Fiddleford to keep an eye on Shifty to make sure they were alright, (which they pretended to be irritated by, just like they had when Stan told Soos the same thing) and double, triple, quadruple checks on all the equipment until no one could think of a single excuse to hang around other than their own reluctance to leave each other.
The anchor cast off, and the Stan o’ War II began to boldly pull away from the dock, cheerful even in miserable weather. Shifty and Fiddleford waved at the edge of the pier, refusing to leave until the boat was swallowed by the rain and mist entirely, like it had never even existed.
“...you good?” Fiddleford asked.
“Are you?” Shifty asked, refusing to take their eyes off the horizon.
“...yeah,” he nodded slowly. “Think so.”
Shifty nodded, and wiped their nose messily. “...let’s go home.”
“You want me to drive?” Fiddleford asked, following Shifty back to the Stanleymobile, placed temporarily under Shifty’s protection with strict orders that there had better not be one scratch on it when Stan returned.
“Absoltuely not,” Shifty said with no venom. “When was the last time you drove a car?”
Fiddleford frowned. “Stan said you drive like a bat outta hell.”
“He definitely didn’t say that.”
Fiddleford shrugged. “I’m paraphrasing.”
“Can’t be worse than you,” Shifty said.
“I been driving robotic thingamajigs for almost as long as you’ve been alive,” Fiddleford said indignantly, and Shifty nearly snorted.
“We probably have about an equal chance of killing each other no matter who takes the wheel,” Shifty admitted, listening to the familiar sputter as the ancient El Diablo started up. They wondered, not for the first time, if Stan was using dark magic on the car to keep it kicking.
Fiddleford chuckled wheezily, though they weren’t sure if it was at their comment or the angry noises the Stanleymobile was making, perhaps sensing that it was being driven by someone other than Stan himself.
They looked in the rearview mirror, staring back at the ocean.
Seabirds swooped low over stagnant boats, hoping to find scraps. Trees stood tall on craggly shorelines that looked so unlike the white sands and blue waters that Shifty had seen on TV and in books, clinging to sheer rocks with roots like gnarled fingers. Clouds hung low still, scraping the water, and the ocean surged forwards and backwards hypnotically, undisturbed by anything but the tide itself, unstoppable and predictable in equal measure.
“Critter?” Fiddleford’s voice broke through their thoughts.
“Hm?” Shifty asked.
“I asked if you wanna grab food on the way back,” Fiddleford said, and withdrew a twenty dollar bill from beneath his seat. “Found this.”
“...finders keepers,” Shifty agreed. “It’s a going away present.”
They reached over, popping open the glove compartment and withdrawing a cassette with a grin. Fiddleford looked perplexed. “That your’s?”
“Oh,” Shifty said, popping the cassette into the car. “It’s one of my prized possessions. We’ll catch you up on the music you missed. The good music anyway.”
“This old man I talked about.” the stereo sang. “Broke his own heart, poured it in the ground.”
Fiddleford frowned, a little unsure. “Are they all like this?”
Shifty sighed, already sensing a long drive ahead. “Let me play my music and you can pick where we grab food.”
“Big red tree grew up and out, throws up its leaves, spins round and round…”
Fiddleford grinned, and Shifty suddenly wondered if he had feigned disinterest on purpose to force a compromise. “Sounds all-righty to me!”
“Oh god,” Shifty sighed.
“I know all this and more…”
“Alright,” Shifty took a breath, pulling out of the marina, homeward bound once more. “Bye, ocean.”
The ocean was as endless as ever, but it didn’t look so much like it wanted to eat them alive. It was just another path, now. Not their path, maybe, but one that would loop back home eventually.
“So take your hat off when you’re talking to me, and be there when I feed the tree…”
And the car puttered away, leaving the ocean behind in favor of an endless forest, familiar and mysterious all at once.
It was home, after all.