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Language:
English
Series:
Part 17 of Dyslexic Stan
Stats:
Published:
2018-05-24
Words:
965
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
19
Kudos:
503
Bookmarks:
24
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4,338

Read to me

Summary:

Stan is having a flashback from when he was on the streets, something brings him back.

Notes:

Even though there is nothing graphic, rape elements are there, so please be careful.

Work Text:

They’re touching him. Touchinghimtouchinghimtouchinghim. Not them. Can’t be them. Pleasenotagain. He can’t. Can’t take it again. Pleasepleasepleaseplease. He doesn’t want this. He told them. He felt like a broken record, over and over. He tells them he doesn’t want it countless times. They don’t listen. Why don’t they listen? The first time he begged on the streets. For them to stop, for them to just. Stop. Whydon’ttheystop? The first time he killed someone. Not again. Can’tbethemcan’tbethemcan’tbethem. He haunts him. Blood seeps from the gash on his head, and his eyes are unfocused. He had to do it. Please understand. Somebody, anybody! Had to do it, they went too far.

Lower and lower. Too low. Can’t make them stop. A rock in his hand. Fear in his gut. Finally. They stop. But blood seeps into his soul. He can’t turn back, not anymore. He had to make them stop. A voice, too young to be theirs. Pleasedon’ttouchme. They don’t. But they continue to speak. He can’t understand what they’re saying. Focus. This could help him. Could save his life. If only he could pay attention. Can’t hear. Can’t understand. They talk on. And on. And on andonandonandon. Why do they speak? Who are they? Familiar. The voice is familiar. Not in a bad way. How? Familiar but not bad? No, he must be mistaken. Words come through the veil, muffled and distorted. He can’t understand. A child’s voice. Stan. His name. They don’t know his name. Safe. He trusts this child who knows his name. His real name. He shouldn’t, but he does.

Please, no more betrayal. Then again, ‘please’ has never gotten him anywhere. It didn’t get him away from them. It’s bitter. How can a word be so bitter? It’s gotten him somewhere, once. But he doesn’t remember when. A reunion gone wrong. The child was there. He wanted to shut something down. The child wanted to protect. Stan pleads, and another child listens. A reunion. He hurts. The child doesn’t touch him, only talks. What is he talking about? Monsters. Ones that seem far away and harmless. Not real ones that seem big and oppressing, that take and take and take. Take more than he could give, even if he was willing. He speaks of creatures that can’t be real. A floating eye, one like a shadow, one that is small and has a pointy hat. Real. He can tell, they’re real. But they can’t hurt him.

He certain they can’t hurt him. Not anymore than the monsters with human skin did. He feels himself calm down in the presence of this child. Dipper. His name is Dipper. As if a balloon popped, his surroundings suddenly came back into his vision, making him wince. He’s in his chair, hunched over and looking at the carpet while ducktective plays softly in the background. Dipper sits across from him, reading a book about mythical creatures out loud to Stan -occasionally throwing in creatures from Gravity Falls-. He knew it was being read to him, because every so often, Dipper would try talking with him. Even if he knew he wasn’t getting any response. ‘Isn’t that cool, Grunkle Stan?’ ‘Hey Grunkle Stan, what do you think about this one?’ ‘Grunkle Stan, this one eats rocks!’ He draws in a long, shuddering breath.

“Grunkle Stan? Can you hear me now?” Dipper asks, closing the book, but making no move to get up.

“...Yeah,” His voice is ragged and he realizes awkwardly that he must’ve been crying.

Brushing at his face roughly, he notices that he’s still crying. Dipper sits silently as his grunkle wipes at his face, bringing an odd sort of comfort. Thankfully, he manages to mostly dry his face, and he looks at Dipper.

Clearing his throat, he speaks quietly, “Sooo… why aren’t you outside playing with your sister? How long have you been there?”

“She’s asleep, she just had a sugar crash. Besides it’s eleven, and I was getting ready for bed when I saw that Waddles was missing. I looked for him, but I found you staring at nothing. I… wasn’t really sure what to do, so I read to you.” He gestures at the book in his hand, “I heard Waddles going up the stairs a while back.” He adds as an afterthought.

“Oh,” It was then that Stan noticed that he was trembling ever so slightly.

“Um,” Dipper started, shifting uncomfortably before looking him in the eyes, “Mabel said that you didn’t get along with your parents. She said it was like Pacifica. Well, um, I got curious about Pacifica’s situation. I… googled it, and saw stuff about… abuse. I don’t know what you went through, but, i, uh, just want to say that I’m here for you. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“O-oh, it’s not a big deal, and really, it was just my father, but I’m glad to hear it.” It wasn’t even about his father this time, but he refuses to tell him what it was about.

Smiling at him, Dipper stands up to leave, clutching his book to his chest. He pauses in the doorway for a moment, before turning to leave.

“W-wait…” Well, fantastic. His brain is against him now.

Dipper looks back to his grunkle, eyes questioning, “Could you… keep reading to me?” Man was that embarrassing to ask.

Dipper’s expression softened, and he nodded, “Of course.”

Then he ran up the stairs. Stan had a moment of disbelief before Dipper came dashing down the stairs again, clutching a book with a pirate on the cover. Stan felt a warm feeling in his chest as Dipper sits down again, opening the book.

Dipper hadn't even gotten a paragraph in before Stan interrupted, “Hey kid?”

Dipper pauses his reading, “Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

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