Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was freezing outside, and late at night, the only light on the lonely road belonging to cars and other vehicles. Stan had always believed that things that were too quiet were usually a threat, so he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and hummed a small tune to himself as he drove in hopes of calming his nerves.

So far, it wasn't working.

Behind him, Dipper and Mable shuffled around in their sleep, adjusting their blanket in the back seat of the van. The fat pig that Mabel had won at a fairground last year was currently being used as a living, breathing footrest, though the fat thing didn't seem to mind. Soos and Wendy sat next to the table, with Soos resting his head on Wendy's shoulder, the girl looking outside the window, being the only one of the kids still awake (she had trouble sleeping when the van was moving). The table itself was littered with fast food wrappings, crumbs and plastic forks: half of them being broken.

It had been a huge sacrifice on Stans part to sell the Stanley Mobile. It had been a big decision in itself, but there were benefits to having the van instead, paid with what Stan had been given when he sold his beloved car, and the rest of the money given to him by Dipper and Mabel's late mother. For starters, there was more room. The kids and Stan could all lie down sort of comfortably, and it saved a lot of money instead of having to pay for a motel room every time they wanted semi decent sleep. It was also good for camping in the forest, meaning that they could live more off road, in places that Rico wouldn't think to look. It was also much better at being insulated, and it had enough space to be livable, though that was still debatable in Stan's opinion.

Though Stan did still miss his old car, the one he had worked to save up for, the one that had kept him alive for the better part of six years. 

He wished he could see it again one day, though hope was a fickle thing, and very unrealistic.

Stan sighed, and adjusted himself in his seat, the action not going unnoticed by the only other awake occupant in his car.

“Do you want me to drive for a bit?” Wendy asked in not quite a whisper.

Stan chuckled. She had been wanting to take the van around for a spin for a while now, though Stan still wouldn't let her: she was only fifteen years old after all.

“No, Kid, not yet.” Stan said, plastering on a tired smile, “I’ll be fine for now.”

“But I’ve been practicing.” Wendy grumbled.

By practicing she meant those times when Stan would let her drive around an empty parking lot, giving her lessons just in case something happened to him. They had already done five of these small lessons, and paired with her eagerness to drive and her quick learning, she was already a great driver.

“I know Kiddo.” Stan said, “But I don’ need any more problems with tha police since ya don’ have a license yet. You’ll get ya turn soon, don’ ya worry.”

Wendy slumped back into her seat with a pout, muttering something under her breath.

Stan sighed again and turned his eyes back to the road ahead. They’ll have to stop soon, or Stan was going to run into a ditch, or stop in the middle of the road for some idiot to crash into. Dark spots were beginning to enter his vision as he tried focusing on the road ahead, no matter how many times he tried to rub them out of his eyes.

It probably didn't help that he hadn't eaten in three days. He would have gone for longer if it wasn't for the kids' insistence that he eat more with the rest of them. Actually, that was mostly Soos and Wendy, the twins in the back usually only went along with their older siblings' rants, though they were beginning to understand a bit better that Stan probably wasn't taking care of himself that well. Guess they inherited their mothers brains, he thought with a small smile. Actually, Dipper may have somehow gotten Ford's brains, the kid was such a painful reminder of Stan's twin that it made his heart ache just thinking about it. Mabel was the heart, and Dipper was the brains. Just like him and Ford, in some sick twisted way.

Man, Ford… he had a place in Oregon, right? Wasn’t that what Ma told him, the last time they had been able to talk to one another? They were so close to each other now… maybe even the closest they had been in a long time.

Stan had thought of coming over to see Ford, maybe from a distance at least, unless he finally managed to man up and go talk to him or something. But Stan had been quick to dismiss that option. Ford didn't want him. He’d shown that when he had closed the curtains on that fateful night. What would he do if he saw Stan again? He would probably scream at him. Remind Stan that he was a failure, and kick him to the curb again.

The kids didn’t need to see that.

Stan didn’t want to be reminded.

A sign on the road caught Stan's attention. There was a town just a couple more miles away. He perked up and blinked a couple of times, running a hand down his face. He could probably find a place to park for the night. Hopefully there was a fast food place around for them to eat breakfast at, since it had been a long time since Stan had gotten enough money for a proper meal.

After having picked up the four kids, Stan had sworn off taking shady jobs he would have done in a heartbeat if he was still living on his own, unless he was really desperate. He didn't want his kids to be in harm's way, or found out, which had somehow never happened yet. He’d even managed to get a couple of jobs here and there when he managed to get Rico off his trail for a month, though those instances were few and far between. Sometimes he would go to a casino and get a decent amount of cash, and though he didn’t want the kids to have to deal with the rich idiots and drunkards who often ended up there, he’d taught them all to be experts in poker. The only other option was stealing food or begging, and he hated doing both. He hated how useless and pathetic he felt when he was forced to resort to sitting on the side of a street waiting to be pitied, or how sneaky he had to be to hide as much food and other necessities as he could under his jacket. The kids would also beg, but in different parts of the city, and on days like those, they were usually able to get more money than Stan, almost tenfold. Turns out being younger and more innocent makes you more likely to get cash from passing strangers.

Who knew.

Stan carefully drove out of the motorway he had been driving on for hours, pulling onto another smaller road into a small town. It was too dark to make out its name. After looking around for a while, he found a parking space in a secluded Alley that was big enough for the van. He parked, hoping to whoever was listening out there that he wouldn't get a ticket because he was too exhausted to look for any signs saying that he couldn't. 

The chance of getting a parking ticket suddenly became a future Stan problem.

He turned on a small, dull light next to his chair, and fumbled around for the cover of the front window of the van. The curtains that hid the rest of the windows had already been drawn. He turned to look at Wendy, who still had Soos wrapped around her like a giant hairless koala. The sight always made Stan chuckle at Wendy's expense, though she didn't really seem to mind.

“Do you want a blanket?” Stan whispered. He grabbed one from the cupboard behind his seat when she shrugged, tossing it towards her lightly before grabbing Soos old dinosaur blanket and heading over to the twins; they were both huddled under Stan's old red jacket, Dipper's notebook spread out over his knees. 

The notebook was blue with a darker blue pine tree in the centre, the one that Stan had brought him a month or so before, when he had run out of space in his old book, a dull beige one with a star on the front. He’d given it to Dipper on their annual Present Day: they stopped celebrating their birthdays for Soos, since that was the day his father had abandoned him. Stan was just glad the kid had found him before he did something he couldn’t have regretted.

Stan carefully removed the book from Dipper's lap, placing it next to him on the back seat, before draping the blanket over them both. He then carefully removed Dippers and caressed the twins' cheeks. When he got back to where the table was, Wendy had already managed to tuck Soos and herself into the oversized blanket Mabel had somehow managed to knit.

In fact, most of the blankets and all their sweaters were knitted by Mabel. Her knitting had saved all of their lives on the coldest of winter nights, several times. It was an incredible sight to see the small ten year old creating sweaters in what felt like no time at all. She’d even managed to sell some extra ones for more cash.

Stan grabbed a couple of pillows and his own blanket, courtesy of Mabel, and settled himself on the other side of the table to Wendy and Soos.

“Good night Kiddos.” he whispered, to which Wendy sleepily replied as well.

Stan turned off the light and before long he had already fallen into an uneasy sleep.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Stan got up early to search for a fast food place. The van had thankfully not been ticketed, or impounded (it had happened once before. That day was not fun), so Stan took that as a win.

There was a fast food place only five minutes away, and he brought a couple of burgers and fries, a hotdog for Soos and a small pizza, as well as a small packet of vegetables, just to have some kind of healthy food, though it was still debatable if they had a good enough nutritious value to count as being ‘healthy’. He also went to the local pet shop to buy some more food for Mables pig: the one that she called Waddles. 

For the record, Stan had thought it was a terrible idea to get the stupid little thing, especially since it was a whole other mouth to feed. But Mabel had been so happy to have it, he wished he could make her smile like that every day, and besides, it did have its uses. Sometimes Mabel would make something for him with her arts and crafts and charge people to have their photo taken with ‘Fairy Pig’ or ‘Prince Charming Pig’ or ‘Mystery Pig’ (Stans personal favorite, Mable had made Waddles a red Fez and a two piece suit, and gave him an eyepatch).

Stan had taught her well.

After finding a giant but cheap bag of food for the pig, Stan ventured back to the van. He strained his ears to hear the small shuffling of feet and hushed whispers inside. Everyone was awake inside then. Stan placed his bags of food on the ground.

He just needed to give the secret knock.

Knock. 

…

Stan only needed to wait for a beat before the van doors opened and he was attacked by a flying projectile.

“Daddy!” Mabel yelled, as Stan stumbled back, grabbing her back to steady himself.

“Heya Pumpkin.” Stan grinned, “Ya sleep well?”

“Yep!” Mable said, popping the ‘p’ as she leaned back enough to see Stan's face, “You were gone for ages! We thought you’d been kidnapped or something.”

“Dude, we did not!” Wendy said from inside the car, “And you have been awake for literally five minutes.”

“Yeah, ages!” Mable said, “Dipper was getting especially worried about you as well. He did the thing when he chews his pencil when he's nervous.”

Stan chuckled. 

“Alright kiddo, ya gonna let me get the shopping in? I got us some breakfast.” Stan said, lowering Mabel to the ground.

“Yes! Breakfast! I’ll help.” she said, grabbing the bag of food for Waddles, “Didya find an arts and crafts shop while you were out? I ran out of glitter again.”

“You’re always out of glitter, Mabel.” Dipper's voice piped up.

“Um, yeah! They should put them in bigger containers, because we run out of it all the time. It's all a big scheme to get as much cash as possible because the people who make the glitter containers are a bunch of money sucking leeches! They’re just like doctors, duh!”

Stan had to stop himself from snorting. Like he said, he had taught her well.

“Couldn’ have said it better myself Pumpkin.” Stan grinned, “Maybe you can go exploring today in town. Ah’m sure you’ll find something around here.”

“Yay!” Mable said, “I can take Waddles along with me too right?”

“As long as ya keep ‘im on the harness.” Stan said, placing the fast food down on the table. Wendy had already swept away the leftover crumbs and wrapping paper, before elbowing Soos on the arm to wake him up.

“Mornin’ Dad.” he said with a yawn.

“Mornin’ kid.” Stan said, “Ya sleep well?”

“Yeah.” Soos said, rubbing his eyes. They widened significantly when Stan placed the hot dog in front of him, “Ah, thanks dad, these are my favourite, right after corndogs.”

“Yeah, sorry, they didn't sell corn dogs.”

“That's fine. Hey Dipper, dude, ya want some?”

“Sure.” came the short reply as Dipper slid into the seat next to his pseudo older brother. Soos proceeded to rip off a chunk of his hot dog and handed it to Dipper, who took it with a small thanks.

Stan brought out the rest of the food from the bag, dividing the food semi evenly between his kids, and, so that Wendy didn't tie him to the chair and force feed him (again), he gave himself a small portion.

The small family of misfits ate their greasy breakfast in relative silence. Mabel was humming a cheery tune to herself, ever the optimist, through mouthfuls of burger. Dipper nibbled his food quietly, savoring each bite, before meekly grabbing a fistful of chips to stuff into his mouth. Soos munched on his food happily, while Wendy glared at Stan every now and then to make sure he was eating. Stan complied with the silent threat, and ate as much as he dared.

“Mabel, I think it's your turn to clean the table.” Stan said once everyone had finished, “Then we can go out and find tha Art’s n’ crafts shop, that alright with you Pumpkin?”

“Ok Dad!” Mabel said eagerly, grabbing several paper wrappers and cheap cardboard containers and putting them in the small trash can in the front of the Van. the pig squealed, and tried lunging for the food - greedy little thing it was - but Mabel stopped him from coming too close, “No Waddles, you already had your breakfast! That's not good for you! If you’re good, I’ll give you an apple for dessert!”

“Mabel…” Stan Warned.

“Please Dad!” Mabel begged, “Waddles has been a good boy, and he deserves a treat.”

Stan just sighed tiredly and plastered a smile on his face.

“Alright, can’t argue with that Pumpkin. We can get some apples before we go shopping, alright?”

“Yay! Thanks dad, you’re the best!” Mabel said, before proceeding to clean up the rest of the table.

Stan felt a warmth blossom in his chest when he heard those words. The kids had started saying that a whole lot to him after they found him crying in the middle of the night about how he couldn't do enough to provide for his family. They had huddled around him and reassured him that he was enough for them, until they had all fallen asleep clinging to each other. He suspected it was Mabel's idea to tell him that more often, and it almost brought tears to his eyes every time he heard them say it.

Not that he would ever admit it. In fact, he had told his kids the next morning after that embarrassing breakdown that they simply had a ‘collective dream’ because that was definitely, one hundred percent, no doubt about it, a real thing. (They knew he was lying, he’d taught them how to spot liars almost the first day he’d been with each of them, but they had the grace to never bring it up again, which Stan was eternally grateful for)

Stan turned around and opened one of the drawers, where Stan kept Waddles (permanently) ‘borrowed’ Emotional Support animal harness. (So that his kid could take the stupid thing all over, since it made her happy to be with the fat thing. He also had a baby harness for the pig, which Stan thought was ridiculous, but it was a present from Mabel so of course he used it. Sometimes. When only his kids were around. 

…He would literally die of embarrassment if Rico found him with a pig strapped to his chest like a baby before the man could torture him.

…Stan wasn’t sure which was worse. (He would never say that to Mabel though, it would crush her)

“Alright, Pumpkin, ya ready to go?” Stan asked, giving Mabel the harness for Waddles which she quickly slipped him into.

“Ready Dad.” Mabel grinned.

Stan looked at the rest of the kids.

“What are you guys gonna do while we're gone?” he asked.

“...I want to go see if they have any science books in the library.” Dipper said quietly.

“I’ll go with you, dude.” Soos said, “I wanna see if there's any books on dinosaurs. The last one you found had some really interesting facts about P-teredactyls.”

Dipper smiled at Soos, his eyes lighting up.

“Alright, you two can go do that then.” Stan said, “Wendy?”

“I don’t know, maybe I’ll go see if there's any teens around to hang with. Or see what there is in the shops.”

“Ok, but remember, no stealing anything.” Stan said sternly, “Having a criminal record is not fun, and having the police on our backs is not what we need right now.”

“Alright, Old Man I get it,” Wendy said, putting her arms up defensively, “And that was one time. And you stopped me. I learned my lesson.”

Stan narrowed his eyes at Wendy.

“Alright, fine,” he said after a beat, “see you kids later, come on Mabel, let's go see if there's any shops around here that sell glitter.”

“Yes!” Mabel said, opening the car door and leaping out, barely waiting for Stan before running off.

“Mabel!” Stan called out of her, muttering something about his achy joints before practically legging it after his youngest daughter, “Wait up!”

Mabel just yelled back at him to keep up giggling madly as she ran out with Waddles waddling behind.

Chapter Text

“Sorry they didn't sell glitter here, Pumpkin.” Stan said as the three walked down the slightly more busy street.

“Its a scam.” Mabel said with a huff, “How could an arts and crafts shop not have glitter!”

“I know, it's tragic.” Stan said, still fuming with the bored cashier who completely disregarded Mables feelings. Honestly, how could you be so passive agressive in front of a sad little girl with an emotional support pig? (he was suddenly glad that said pig had tried to chew some of the pencils at the entrance of the sorry excuse for a shop), “But hey, it wasn't all bad, you got some new knitting yarn, whataya gonna make with it?”

“Some new sweaters obviously!” Mabel said, immediately lighting up, “Ooooh and maybe a blanket for Waddles to sleep on, the floor gets too cold sometimes and he wakes up sad.”

Stan smiled fondly at his kid. His daughter. The sweetest and kindest little kid he had ever met. He wished he could give her the world. He wished he could give all his kids the world, they certainly deserved it.

“That sounds great Pumpkin, hey, doya wanna go see if there's any ice cream trucks? After the disappointment with the arts and crafts shop, I think ya deserve a treat.”

“Yes, ice cream!!” Mabel said, jumping up in celebration. Stan chuckled.

“Alright, and if they don’t have any ice cream trucks, we can graffiti something on the wall like, ‘the worst town in America’.”

“Yes! What kind of town doesn't sell ice creams?” Mabel said, “That would be preposterous!”

“It would indeed.” Stan said with a laugh.

“Ooh, and we can get a sign that says ‘don’t come here if you want glitter or ice cream! There isn't any!’ Then everyone here would be sorry for not getting an ice cream truck, or making glitter!”

“Sounds like a plan.” Stan said.

Fortunately, they did find an ice cream truck, and soon Stan and Mabel found themselves sitting down on a street corner, eating their toffee nut and strawberry ice cream with extra sprinkles respectively. Stan had brought a packet of apples from a local grocery store, and the pig was noisily munching on one, squealing in delight.

“Hey Pumpkin, whaddaya make of these ice creams? They good?”

“I like it a lot!” Mabel said eagerly, “But I do miss that one in California. It was the best!”

“It sure was.” 

Stan subconsciously looked around the street for any suspicious activity. There was barely anyone around, though it had gotten notably busier. Most people ignored the pair and their pig, but a couple of passersby gave them curious looks.

Stan glared at them.

However, when he had almost finished his ice cream, a man caught his attention. He was wearing a baseball cap and a hoodie, both nondescript. Stan watched him as he was speaking to someone on a nearby payphone, observing him in a practiced, almost casual manner, taking the guy in.

Something was irking Stan the wrong way, and he narrowed his eyes.

Somehow, somehow , none of his enemies had figured out that he was hoarding a brood of kids. And he had planned to keep it that way for as long as humanly possible. It was why he was always moving, always trying to stay away from the goons' trail.

It could just be a normal guy trying to make a phone call.

Stan could just be being paranoid.

He could just be seeing things.

But still…

He needed to make sure.

“Hey Pumpkin,” Stan said, a fake smile plastered on his face, “Ya wanna go walk around a bit, see what else this place has te offer?”

Mabel looked up at him mid lick of her ice cream. She knew when something was wrong, all his kids did. They had been in too many situations like this, when Stan thought he saw something fishy, and tried to act like nothing was amiss.

They knew how to read him well by this point.

So instead of panicking, or asking what was wrong, Mabel simply smiled.

“Ok Daddy!” she said, getting to her feet and gripping Waddles lead, “Come on Waddles! Let's go and explore!”

Stan got up and held his daughter's hand as they walked around a little bit. They found an area with a few shops and more people going shopping. Stan walked around with confidence, finishing off his ice cream and acting like he knew where he was going.

People tended to ignore people who knew where they were going.

He felt Mabel squeeze his hand as they turned a corner. A small gesture, but a reassuring one that made Stan's heart warm.

Discreetly, Stan turned to look behind him.

The man was there, his face shrouded in shadows, maneuvering around the small crowd of people.

Stan tried to calm himself, as his heart started to beat faster.

It could just be a coincidence. Maybe the man had to do some errands and he needed to go this way. There were a lot of shops over here.

They turned another corner, and the man was still there. 

It was fine, just another coincidence. Stan tried to stop himself from speeding up, trying to act casually, and hide Mabel's form from.

He turned a corner again.

The man was right behind them, closing in slowly.

Stan felt his stomach drop.

“Hey dude, what about this one?” 

Soos grabbed a book from the shelf and handed it to Dipper, who took it with interest. It was a book on the Cretaceous period, a T-rex on the front. Dipper hummed and flipped it over, his eyes scanning the blurb.

It was a book on dinosaurs, along with facts about each one that lived in that time period, including other animals such as the mammals that lived there too.

“This ones good,” Dipper decided, and Soos followed him over to a secluded section of the library, one that gave Dipper and Soos a good view of the door and everyone inside. There were beanbags and plush chairs for people to sit down on and read, and Dipper scrambled onto one of the empty chairs, while Soos dragged a beanbag across the floor and sat down next to Dipper with a superhero comic.

Dipper opened the book up, carefully reading every word, carefully taking in every picture and diagram, and carefully collecting every pinprick of information.

The library felt like home.

Every one of them did.

One of the good things about living as nomads, in Dipper's humble opinion, was the fact that he could look at every library to read, and usually they had different books of the same topics. Each one had new information, new facts, giving him a wider understanding of the world around him.

With every visit to the library, Dipper learned something new, practically giving himself an education, just in case his Dad ever managed to settle them down somewhere safe, and he could go to school.

He knew why they couldn't just settle down anywhere. Wendy and Soos had explained it to them as best they could to both twins when they were younger. Their father had been kicked out, and forced to care for himself, landing him in trouble. There were people after him, and they wanted to hurt him, and would also hurt Dipper and his siblings if they found them.

But that didn't mean that Dipper couldn't hold some resentment. He’d watched school kids from a distance, learning things in classrooms and playing games outside. He wished he could join them sometimes. Wished that they didn't live in the van, and could just have a normal life like everyone else around them.

He just wanted to be normal for once.

Despite all of this, however, he never blamed his father, or his late mother for their circumstances. It wasn’t Moms fault she was sick, and it wasn't Dads fault that he was kicked out, no matter how much he’d tried convincing the siblings that it was his fault for breaking Uncle Ford's machine.

If anything, it was Dads family that sounded evil. Like Cinderella's stepmother and stepsisters, or the Evil Queen from Snow White, the books that he’d gotten Mabel for their present day. It wasn't his fault his family was terrible. One mistake shouldn’t change the outcome of their lives, especially if they were sorry about it.

Dad was definitely sorry about the project.

Dipper sighed, trying to refocus on his book. Soos had managed to find the next issue of The Question , a lesser known DC superhero that Dipper's older brother became obsessed with. From what Soos had told Dipper, he was a vigilante with no powers, a great detective and a conspiracy theorist.

Dipper could see the pages of colourful drawings, the faceless man in a dark blue suit entering a room dramatically.

He’d have to ask Soos some more questions after they’d finished reading: the brothers had a tradition to explain to each other what they read. Soos had started the tradition, after they had both read books on dinosaurs and unsolved mysteries from history, and they compared notes on the Loch Ness monster. It was an easier way to study, in Dipper's opinion, and somewhat quicker than trying to just read books and books of stuff. Together they knew about all the different eras of dinosaurs, of historical mysteries and cryptids. Of science facts and science fiction, from comic books and classic novels. 

It was fun, it was interesting, and most importantly, it was their thing.

Dipper turned another page, his fingers tracing the painting of an animal that resembled an early platypus. He read its description, all about its diet, and where in the world they were found. He’d read about this animal before, in another book he’d read when they were in Washington. 

In his mind, he cataloged what he already knew, with what he was reading. He silently started taking note of which facts had contradicted each other, things that he would have to look at different sources for in order to understand where the authors may have gone wrong.

It was good to get different perspectives, he’d found.

Ever since he was small, he’d always wanted to be a researcher. He wanted to discover new species, and look for cryptids like Bigfoot or a werewolf.

Mysteries had been his favourite things to read about when he was younger. Ever since his mother had taught him, or when they went to school for those first couple of months, before she got sick. She’d joke about how he was her ‘little researcher’ and watch him fondly as he drew chupacabras and other such creatures.

Even if those drawings weren't as good as Mabels.

While Dipper had been the smartest of the twins, as he had been told numerous times by teachers for that short time, Mabel was the creative one. She was good at art and crafts, even going as far as to stick a glue gun onto her sweater sleeve for some strange reason, and anything that involved colourful paper or needles and thread, she took to almost instantly. Dipper was practically hopeless at those things, in his opinion, though he never really put that much thought into it.

Dipper and Mabel had long since decided that they were going to stick together when they were older, with Dipper writing his books on whatever fascinating creatures he discovered, and Mabel doing things like drawing them, and writing stories about them, if she so wanted to. They hadn't given it much thought nowadays, when they were running around the country, but now they had their older siblings to think about as well. Maybe Soos could write his own comics with Mabel, or open up a car repair shop with them. Wendy could teach kids how to survive the apocalypse or something, since she was good at that, or help Dipper with his research out in the forest because she was super strong and super cool and she could definitely help protect him from wolves or something, like she did when she first met Dad.

And Dad could-

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, Dipper thought dryly, as he spotted his father entering the library from the corner of his eye. Mabel was there too, a smile plastered on her face as always, but even from a distance, Dipper knew something was off about his twin's smile.

Something was wrong.

“Soos, Dads here.” Dipper said urgently, closing his book a little too loudly. He winced at the sound. Dad’s head snapped up, his eyes locking onto Dippers, and he could see the tension in his form loosen.

Soos complied with Dippers small comment almost immediately, closing the comic and placing it back into its place, before helping Dipper put his book back on one of the higher shelves.

Mabel and Dad wandered over to them, Waddles waddling behind them. Mabel had a huge grin on her face, while their Dad was staring out of the window. They were the picture of casual, even when Dipper saw the tension in their shoulders, and the way Dads eyes were watching something out of the window so intensely.

“Yo, Mabel!” Soos said with a small wave, “Didya find more glitter?”

“No.” Mabel said, looking up with a pout, “Can you believe it! There was no glitter!”

“Kids, listen up,” Dad said, his eyes never leaving the streets, “I think I’m being followed.”

“By who?” Dipper asked, his eyes widening.

“I wish I knew, kid.” Dad said, finally turning to look at his kids, “But right now, I need you to listen very carefully, ok?”

The siblings nodded.

“I’m going to go find Wendy. There's a man across the street in a black hoodie and jeans. I saw him pull out a cigarette. I’m going to leave here now, and Soos, did ya see that warehouse on tha way here?”

Soos nodded.

“I need ya te take the twins over there. But only after ya have seen that man leave, an’ have waited a couple of seconds. I’ll meet ya there when I’ve found Wendy, an… an we’ll figure et out from there, got et?”

“Yes Mr Pines Dad sir.” Soos said, giving a salute, “I’ll take good care of the little dudes.”

“I’m counting on it.” Dad said, before turning his attention to the twins, “I need you two to listen to ya brother, got it? Ah need to know that your gonna be alright, if I want to be alright, ok?”

The twins nodded.

“Good, I’ll see ya soon, Squirts.” Dad said, his lips stretching into his ‘con man’ smile. He ruffled both their hairs before walking back over to the library door. He smiled at the woman at the desk, before sauntering out onto the street.

The siblings and Waddles hurried over to the window, where they spotted a man in a dark hoodie smoking a cigarette suddenly straighten himself from the wall he was leaning on, and walking in the same direction as their father.

“Soos, Dads gonna be alright, isn’t he?” Mabel asked softly. The twins both looked towards their big brother, who gave them a reassuring smile.

“Of course he is dudes,” Soos said, with as much conviction as he could muster, “He’s our dad. He’s always gonna be fine!”

Dipper found that somehow, he didn't believe that as much as he would like.

Chapter Text

“So, where are you from then?” 

“Oh, Gravesfield, Connecticut. My parents came ‘round here to visit some family.” a girl - Masha - replied.

Wendy wasn’t really listening to their conversation very much. She’d found a group of teens hanging out near a heavily graffitied area of a park. A few people were messing around on skateboards and showing off on concrete ramps and steel pipes.

It only took a couple of minutes before Wendy was invited to join their gang.

She was good at talking to people. Stan had taught her about how to read people. How to become their friend. How to get anything she wanted from them with just a couple of words.

She had taken to it very, very quickly.

Stan said she was a fast learner. Soos had been taught the same way, but he was just too nice, too trusting when it came to others. Wendy didn't mind though, he was her sweet big brother with a heart of gold. Wendy could be the criminal if she needed to, just so he could still be himself. He could protect their younger siblings while she fought off the monsters with their Dad.

Wendy huffed out a breath through her nose and pulled her leg closer to her chest.

She was sitting on one of the ramps of the skatepark. A couple of meters away was the children's park. She smiled softly as she watched the children play, being reminded of the twins. She remembered the first time she took them to the park to play together. She was still small enough to play with them at the time, and she could never forget the way that they lit up as they chased her through the climbing frame.

It was the first time she had heard them laugh since their mothers death.

It was the first time they had smiled, like children were supposed to.

“-Wendy? Wendy?”

Wendy hummed and turned back to the teens, who were all looking at her expectantly.

“We were just asking where you were from?” one of the boys - Jack? Jake? - asked.

“Oh, I’m not really from anywhere.” she said, a smile tugging at her lips, “Dad travels around for work, so we mostly live in a van. We’ve been all around the country.”

“Cool. Bet you’ve seen a lot of cool stuff then.” Masha said.

“Yeah, we have. You wouldn’t believe half of the stuff I’ve been through, let me tell you that.” Wendy said.

And they wouldn't. They all had proper homes and proper meals three times a day. They weren’t on the run from shady idiots and the Colombian Mafia, or had to resort to begging or bartering just to get some cash.

Their lives were easy. Wendys life was exciting and frightening at times.

“Tell us a story then,” one of the other teens piped up, “The craziest thing you’ve ever seen.”

Wendy grimaced. She didn't want to tell them about her and her family’s close calls. It wasn’t really that exciting anyways. It was mostly her and Soos trying to calm the twins down when someone came knocking on their Motel door, or looking over their shoulders as discreetly as they dared while trying to disappear into a crowd.

It wasn't glamorous. It wasn't something Wendy was necessarily proud of, and certainly not something she wanted to share with complete strangers.

“Well, there isn’t much to say really.” Wendy shrugged, nonchalant, “Honestly, I think the most exciting thing that has happened to us is when we go visit national parks.” (she didn't mention how the entire family snuck inside because they couldn’t pay for tickets) “I mean… I did get lost in the woods for a couple of weeks, and got chased by wolves once.”

“That sounds exciting.” Masha said, “How’d you escape?”

“I yelled and swung a bat at them.” Wendy shrugged, “They left me alone after that. Dad found me and fussed over a couple of scrapes I got while in the woods.”

“Do you have scars?” another kid asked, enthralled.

Wendy grinned. She had them, hook line and sinker. All the teens were staring at her with wide eyes, some kind of admiration sparkling inside them. She’d probably be able to get them to do anything she wanted. Maybe get some cash, or a treat for her siblings.

“Of course,” she said, slyly, “... You guys wanna see?”

Everyone enthusiastically nodded their heads.

Wendy pulled up her sleeve to reveal some old faded scars from her two weeks on the run from the orphanage. Some gasped and others leaned in closer to get a better view. She pointed at each one running up her arm and began to tell a tale about the time she got lost in the woods. She told them how she and her dad were on a camping trip with her siblings, and after trying to find some firewood, she got lost. 

She pointed at a small scar on her wrist, telling them how she got it while climbing a tree to get a better view.

The jagged scar in the crook of her elbow came from the rabid squirrels that tried to take her carefully collected nuts and berries.

The three perfectly straight scratches came from one of the wolves that tried to pin her to the ground as she tried to escape.

Not all of the stories were completely true. But Stan had taught her that all believable lies had to hold some truth in them, to really sell it out.

And the teens brought every story, even those that sounded a bit too far fetched. They ate it all up, like a starved street dog would to a piece of steak.

As she told an exaggerated story about how she fended off the pack of hungry wolves with nothing but her trusty bat (may it rest in pieces) she spotted a familiar figure in the corner of her eye.

She looked up in that direction, discreetly, her eyes meeting her dads for a split second, before she finished off her story.

“That must have been terrifying.” one of the kids said.

“Oh, it was.” Wendy said, before pretending to hesitate for a moment, “Um, actually, does anyone know what time it is? I promised Dad I’d be back to take care of the kids before he goes to work.”

“It's eleven thirty-two.” someone helpfully supplied.

“Ah, shoot I’m gonna be late.” Wendy said, getting up, “I guess I’ll see ya guys around, if dads work lets us stay for a couple of days.”

“We’ll be here.” someone else said.

“Great, catch ya later,” Wendy winked and waved goodbye, heading over to the bus stop where Stan had sat himself down. She walked with a purpose, forcing herself not to go too quickly even though she knew something was wrong. Her eyes subconsciously scanned for dangers, only finding a few mothers with their children, a couple of teens smoking, and a couple of people dotted around the area, including a guy in a black hoodie half hidden in a corner.

When she made it to the bus stop, she smiled and nodded politely at Stan, as if he were a stranger. She sat on the other end of the bench, looking straight ahead, pulling the red fluffy scarf Mabel had made her over her mouth. It helped that it was slightly chilly in the autumn.

“What are you doing here?” Wendy whispered, not in an unkind way. She stopped herself from making eye contact, or turning her head, instead resorting to bouncing her leg up and down impatiently like she was already bored.

“I’m being followed.” her dad said, his eyes drifting to a small family that walked past them. Wendy stiffened.

“Who?” she asked, her eyes already looking left and right.

“Man in the hoodie. On the street corner.” Stan sighed, leaning forwards as if he was trying to see the bus, which, according to the timetable next to the bench, wasn't coming for another ten minutes, “He’s been tailing me for the past half hour.”

Wendy clenched the bench with a white knuckle grip.

“Where's Mabel?” Wendy asked.

“I dropped her and the pig off with Soos and Dipper.” Stan replied, “I sent them off to hide in the warehouse district. Came to find you.”

“...You think you and I could take him?” Wendy asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah, not happening kid.” he said, “I came to tell ya to go meet up with them.”

“What about you?” Wendy asked, “Because if you think I am just going to leave you by yourself with whatever madman-”

“I’m not askin’ ya to. I want ya to go with them. I’ll meet ya there. We haveta be smart ‘bout this.”

“Ok, fine, I’ll go get my axe and then-”

“No, Wendy. I want you to go to the warehouse where the others are. Chances are, they are already around the camper, an I don’ want ya to be discovered. It's too risky, kid, I don’ want ya to be tangled up with these guys, they-”

“Are extremely dangerous, I know.” Wendy huffed, “You’ve told us that about a million times, Dad. But I can take him.”

“Kid, it ain’t gonna be just him, ok? He's probably got his entire gang waitn’ for me.”

“He probably knows about Mabel already,” she argued, “You were with her. They might as well know about me, I can fight them off.”

“Not necessarily,” he said, dryly, “Before I got caught up with the gangs, I took a couple of babysitting jobs for quick cash. They probably think I’m desperate, sitting again for some rando. Mabel is gonna be alright. But I need ya to help me come up with a plan. The warehouse district is deserted, lotsa places to hide. I’ll feel much safer if ya were there. You and ya siblin’s are good at comin’ up with plans.”

Wendy perked up.

“Wait, you’re letting us help you?”

“...I… I’m not sayn’ that, but the warehouse district is tha safest place here. Tha I know about at least.” Stan sighed, and leaned back, “I dunno, maybe ya can make ‘em believe tha place is haunted. Buy us some time.”

“...Alright,” Wendy sighed, “I’ll go there.”

“Good. I’m gonna go the long way. Wait a bit before ya go. Make sure tha guy’s following me ‘fore ya make a move.”

“Ok.” Wendy said, “I will.”

Stan didn’t reply. He simply looked around impatiently, rolled his sleeve up to pretend to look at a watch, before getting up with a huff and walking away.

Wendy stayed where she was. Her eyes tracked the movements of the man. She watched him as he discreetly decided to walk in the same direction her father had just walked away in. 

She didn't get up until he’d disappeared around a corner.

Stan was getting a little bit fed up with the man.

It was now around lunch time, and the streets were busy. People walked passed Stan as he weaved through the crowd. He tried to shake the man off his trail, but he was always there, like some kind of shadow.

Maybe it was another private detective, come to tell him that he was now a father of seven, or something like that, his mind jokingly supplied.

Surprisingly the thought didn’t manage to lighten up his mood like he thought it would.

The extra fifteen minutes Stan took to go around the town let him come up with some semblance of a plan. It was a terrible one at best, and the kids would hate him for it, but it was the best choice he thought considering the circumstances.

It was also a bit of a stretch. He didn't know how he was going to do this. But the kids were his top priority, and, knowing them, they would get themselves into a whole lot more trouble.

He had been planning just to hide the kids and deal with whoever it was alone, but he knew they wouldn’t stand for it. He knew they would try to fight, and he wouldn't allow that. He couldn’t- it terrified him to think of what the gang would do to his kids if they found them.

The man was still following him, acting like a looming threat. 

He probably knew that Stan knew he was following him. After aimlessly walking around the city for almost an hour, it was a given. The only reason that he hadn't been confronted yet was because they were in a crowded area, and civilian casualties, even for a wealthy mafia gang, was not something that they wanted. It meant cops, and they couldn't afford cops snooping around. Bribes only got you so far, and Stan had learned that lesson the hard way.

It was probably one of Ricos men. Jorge perhaps, or Juan. Alejandro was one of the more ruthless pursuers, but it could also be Jose, or Carlos or maybe even Juan.

… The other Juan.

Honestly, Stan swore half of Ricos gang was named Juan, or Jose. It was hard enough to keep track of everyone as it was: all of the gang seemed to be either six foot tall tattooed men with bulging muscles or lean but jacked bodies, or ratty homeless kids trying to earn some quick cash. Like Stan had been.

Stan groaned inwardly and decided that enough was enough. He had to be quick about it though, as soon as he was alone, the man that had been following him for the better part of the morning would confront him, and all Stan had to defend himself was his brass knuckles and his childhood boxing lessons.

But he couldn't just confront him like that. Unlike those movies and TV shows all the kids were going on about, Stan did have something to lose. Four someones in fact, five if you counted the pig, and Stan was not going to let Rico get his grubby little hands on them.

So as soon as Stan turned a corner into the warehouse district, he bolted. He ran as quickly as he dared, trying to stay out of sight from his pursuer, trying to put enough distance between the two of them so that Stan could enact his plan.

And as he ran, Stan looked out for the kids. His eyes scanned the scene as best as he could, before he caught sight of a familiar red scarf. It was dirty and looked like it had been there for years.

Well done Wendy , Stan thought as he grabbed the scarf and turned a corner to hide behind some crates.

Stan could already see Mabel furiously trying to hand wash her handiwork.

As Stan planted himself behind one of the dustier crates, he was met with the familiar sight of his four children staring at him with wide eyes. At least, Soos and the twins were. Wendy just looked like she was ready to take on the entire world by herself, and Waddles was just… Waddles.

Stan put a finger on his lips and gave the kids all a pointed stare.

They stayed absolutely silent until they heard footsteps come, and footsteps go, almost as quickly as they arrived. Stan waited a couple of beats before he let out a sigh of relief. He’d brought them a bit of time then.

“Dad?” Mabel whispered, “Is he gone?” 

“Yeah, Pumpkin, I think he’s gone. For now at least.” Stan said. And, for the second time that day, Mabel launched herself into his arms.

“I was so worried!” she said, her voice a not quite cry, “I thought the b-bad man had caught you.”

“What, ya don’ have any faith in ya old man?” Stan said, with a grin, rubbing his daughters back, “‘Course tha’ sucker wasn’ gonna get me.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean that he isn't gonna come back anytime soon.” Wendy said, “Dads got a plan, don't you?”

Stan grimaced inwardly.

“Yeah, I think I do.” Stan said, “I just haveta find the perfect spot… come on kiddos. I brought us some time for my special secret plan.”

“Oooh what's the plan?” Mabel said enthusiastically.

“It's a secret plan, I can’ tell ya it, just not yet.” Stan said, and was immediately given two skeptical glances from Wendy and Dipper.

“Alright.” Mabel said, clambering out of Stan's hold and grabbing Waddle's leash.

Stan got up, crouching low, and looked left and right. When he was satisfied that the coast was clear, he gestured for the kids to follow him.

Together, the six of them weaved through the abandoned crates and warehouses silently, or at least as quietly as a homeless man leading two teens, two adolescents and a fat pig could be.

It wasn’t long before Stan found the perfect place to enact his plan. The doors were slightly ajar with a long chain holding them together. The lock was large and not too rusted, unlocked, but attached to the chain.

Stan gestured to the warehouse, his heart pounding. The kids nodded and followed.

When they got to the door, Stan made sure the kids went inside, carefully slipping the Campervans keys into Wendy's pockets as she passed him.

“Hey, Wendy,” he said, “Do you still have your lock picking kit?”

Wendy gave him a look.

“Of course I do.” she whispered, “Why’d you ask?”

Stan didn’t answer. He didn't let the kids have any chance of doing anything. He closed the doors of the warehouse and locked it, only leaving enough room for Wendy to grab and pick the lock.

“What the-” Dippers voice cried out at the locking of the door.

“Dad! What the heck!” Wendy demanded, already trying to open the door.

“Sorry kid, but it's too dangerous for you to get involved.” Stan said.

“Dad, open this door right now!” Wendy yelled, the door rattling from the inside.

“They are catching up to me, kid,” Stan said, backing away slowly, “I can’ let them get to ya as well.”

“Dad, please!” Mabel yelled, “We can help!”

“Of course we can Dude!” Soos said, “We’re a family! We’re supposed to be in this together! Let us out and we can help!”

“Yeah, Dad,” Dipper said, “You said You’d never leave us! Please!”

Stan forced himself to take another step back, despite the ache blossoming in his chest.

“I need to protect ya.” He argued, “I’m sorry kids, but ya don’ wanna get involved with Ricos gang. I’ll lead him away, but ya need to stay quiet.”

“Like heck I’m gonna do that Stan!” Wendy yelled, making Stan visibly flinch - it had been a while since she had called him that - “We can take him together, please! You’re not alone anymore, we can help!”

“Ya need to stay quiet.” Stan said, feeling himself trembling, “I’ll draw him as far away from ‘ere as possible. Go to Oregon, where ya Uncle lives. Ford’ll take care of ya if ya tell ‘im you’re family.”

“No! Stanley Caryn Pines , don’t you dare !” Wendy yelled even more furiously.

“I’ll meet ya there, don’ worry.” Stan promised, forcing himself to turn the other direction.

He already felt guilty. He already felt like he was failing his kids. Their desperate cries were going to haunt his dreams, if he even managed to fall asleep tonight.

But he knew he had to do this. He knew he had to keep them safe.

He had to take his demons and get as far away from them as possible.

He ran towards where the man had disappeared to, yelling as loud as he could, before bolting away from the warehouse where his kids were hidden.

It wasn’t long before he heard footsteps coming after him, and that same old and familiar feeling of loneliness washed over him, like some old forgotten friend.

Chapter Text

Ring… Ring…

Ford woke up with a yell, tumbling out of his chair onto the hard wooden floor, and hitting his head on the corner of the cabinet. He groaned and rubbed the sore spot, blinking at the dim light in his cabin.

He had apparently fallen asleep on his chair. Again.

Fiddleford was not going to be pleased.

He looked up at the clock from his position on the floor, and though it was still blurry without his glasses, he could just about make out that it was three in the morning.

Ford groaned and rubbed a six fingered hand across his face, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Ring… Ring…

The phone continued ringing.

“I-I’m coming, I’m coming,” he moaned to no one in particular. He grabbed the side of his desk and heaved himself up and back into his chair. He fumbled around his messy desk for his glasses, before patting down his trench coat and wiping off the imaginary dust, and clearing his throat.

He hesitated a second before grabbing the phone off the wall.

“...Hello, Dr. Stanford Pines speaking.” he said, almost robotically, adjusting his glasses so they were more firmly perched on his nose.

There was silence for a second. And then-

“Oh thank goodness, this is the right number.” 

Ford blinked. Was this… was this the same person who had been pranking him since college? Did they finally decide to speak to him? Wait, no, then their statement wouldn't make any sense. They said they got the right number, and whoever it was, he had been answering the same way every time. Surely they would have known that it was the right number, or would have stopped calling if they’d gotten the wrong one, right?

Hmmm. 

In any case, this was a fascinating development.

“I’m sorry, who is this, and how did you get my number?” Ford asked, already grabbing his Phone Call notebook from the pile in his desk and grabbing a pen to write with. He was going to need to write this down if it were the mysterious phone guy. A new development! He felt slightly jittery with excitement.

“I, um, I’m Wendy.” the mysterious phonecaller said, “And well, my dad gave me this number. He told me… he told me to call you.”

“Your father gave you this number?” Ford echoed, already writing down everything, “Do I know him then?”

“...You could say that.” the phonecaller, Wendy, said with a sigh. Ford would say she sounded defeated. There was a strange edge to her voice, as if she was on the verge of tears. Ford grimaced. He wasn't good at helping with people's emotions all that much. He didn’t know what he would do if she broke down on the phone. And, if she were to say something about the mysterious phone calls, it would be much harder to understand her if she was having a breakdown. 

“C-could you tell me who he is? I can tell you if I know him, if that is in fact the case.”

There was a considerable pause.

“...Your brother. Stanley Pines.”

Ford froze mid sentence, his eyes widening, the pen in his hand almost slipping from his fingers. He opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to let her words sink in, to be able to process the absurdity of it all.

“...Hi Uncle Ford.” Wendy said after Ford hadn’t spoken for a couple of seconds.

He still couldn't speak however. It was like his brain had just short circuited, and was having trouble coming up with… anything really.

When had Stan- she sounded young, but not that young- what had- how?- he was an uncle- he didn’t- Stan couldn’t- he had a family? No- that wasn’t- that didn’t- how could he- was this- it had to be- was this- a scheme of some sort- but how- why?- was Stan- was he ok?- is this- he didn’t- a trick?- why would he- did he- did she- was he- did they really think that could work?

Ford felt a sudden rush of anger. He narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth.

“L-look,” He snapped, “If Stan put you up to this, if he made you call me to ask for anything, well you can say to him that I am done bailing him out of whatever hole he dug himself into-”

“What? That’s not what I-”

“- He is perfectly capable of working this out on his own-”

“-Wait, please I need-”

“-Stanley is a grown man, he can work it out himself-”

“-Please, let me speak, I-”

“-He doesn't need my help, and neither do I want to give it to him-”

“-He didn’t-”

“-I am fed up of him ruining my life over some stupid childhood fantasy and-”

“THEY TOOK HIM!”

Ford jumped away from the phone as the oppressive noise reached his ears. His heart started to pound in his chest, his breathing coming out laboured. Something in his chest squeezed at those three small words. 

He found he didn't exactly like the feeling, whatever it was. It felt… oddly familiar, though he couldn't quite place it. He knew what that something was, but he didn't want to admit it.

A couple of seconds later, Ford managed to bring his trembling hand back, bringing the phone back to his ear.

“...What do you mean they took him?” Ford asked, skeptically, carefully, as if he were approaching the sleeping Multibear.

“I mean that th-they took him.” Wendy said, sounding like she was gasping for breath after a long swim, “The gang, th-they had been chasing him, they finally caught up with him a-and I d-don’t, I don’t- I tried to stop him- but he- he wanted to protect us and now- now he’s gone. We tried to look for him- we looked all afternoon, but he’s gone, and I don’t, I don’t know what to do.”

“The gang… what are you talking about?” Ford asked.

“...You don’t know what happened to him when he was kicked out, do you?”

“Of course not, I haven’t spoken to him in- wait. He told you about that?”

“Yes, multiple times. I don’t know how many times I heard him tell us how much he regrets that night, or how… how he thinks it's his fault. It wasn’t. It was your fault-”

“Excuse me?!”

“-And your fathers. How could you have been so blind? How could you have been so selfish! You only knew about West Coast for what, a week? And you decided that that was more important than your twin!”

Ford huffed.

“So, Stanley painted me as a bad guy in his retellings then? Typical. He's the one who ruined my life.”

“No, he never did.” Wendy said with such conviction it momentarily threw Ford off, “He always told us how it was his fault, even though that's stupid. He always told us that he hoped you were doing well, despite accidentally breaking that stupid machine, costing you the chance to go to West Coast, and from the sound of it, you are. I don't know about you, but you don't sound like someone with a ruined life. You really are an egotistical maniac, and before you say anything else, Stan 2, Dad never said anything like that. I came to that conclusion all by myself and you just proved it.”

Ford paused for a second before sighing. Stanley was probably the one who had been calling him, wasn’t he? Probably to bother him or something, he probably didn’t speak because he thought better of it. And here Ford was thinking that this mystery caller was something worth his time.

Typical Stanley, finding ways to mess with Ford even when not being directly in his life.

“Alright, fine, I’m sorry.” Ford said, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Could you please tell me who has taken Stanley?”

“If I had to guess, probably the Colombian Mafia.”

“What? How did-”

“I don’t know the exact details about how he got mixed up in all that, Dad didn’t really like telling us stories about his time there, it would probably scare the others, but I think I have a good idea of what happened.”

“...Others?” Ford squeaked out.

“Oh yeah, there's, um, there's actually four of us.”

And Ford just sat there, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

He just had to process that:

1. He was an uncle
2. He apparently had four niblings
3. He had only just found out about them because one of his twins kids was calling him to say that Stan had apparently been kidnapped by the Colombian Mafia

…It was way too early for this. He needed his coffee. ASAP .

“Who is looking after you now?” Ford asked, “Your mother? Because if that's the case then-”

“No, um, Stan was our only parent. Um, only two of us are his bio kids, he picked up me and Soos from the streets, I guess, and the twins mother died right before they came to us. And now, without him, we’re by ourselves. I, um, I am just so, so tired, and confused. I don't, I don’t know what to do. Please can you help us. Please.” 

Stan had twins. That was surprising, to say the least.

Ford sighed again and leaned further onto his desk, twirling his pen between his fingers.

“Where are you and your siblings now?”

“We’re just outside of Oregon. In some town I don’t know the name of. But we're close, so I think that's why Dad asked us to contact you.”

So Stanley had moved just outside of Oregon then. Why? Was he trying to continue ruining Ford's life? Or was he just trying to keep an eye on him from a distance, being as clingy as he was when they were younger? This was all too confusing.

“Ok, do you have any means of getting here?”

“Yes, I, um, we have the van, I guess. Dads been teaching me how to drive.”

“Ok, so here's what we are going to do.” Ford said, “I am going to give you my address and you and your siblings are going to come over to my house in Gravity Falls, I cannot in good conscience leave you by myself, even though I don’t trust Stanley, and because Fiddleford would kill me if I left you by yourselves, and then… and then we can figure this out from there. Is that ok with you?”

“...Yeah, I guess that's fine. Th-thank you for believing me, I don’t- I don’t know what I would have done otherwise.”

“Yes, yes, that's fine.” Ford said, then proceeded to give Wendy his address, before promptly saying goodbye. When the phone was back on the receiver, he groaned and leaned back in his chair, running both hands down his face.

This was all too much to process. He needed, he needed to go get some coffee. Then he was going to write down some things in his journal, and then call his Ma.

He still wasn’t convinced that this wasn’t all an elaborate trick, and she would be able to confirm it.

Stealing his resolve, Ford got up from his desk and made his way into the kitchen, turning on the machine before sitting down to write in Journal 2. He wrote down his thoughts, his doubts, everything he thought he needed to write. 

His journals had become more like his place to vent over the years, after he’d reached a roadblock in his scientific papers. The cave that supposedly held the answers had been blocked off by a rock slide, and when he did manage to get inside, all he found were the remains of a cave painting, too fragmented and broken to make anything out.

It was frustrating, yes, but it wouldn't stop Stanford Pines from getting his answers, one way or another. It was just a small setback, but until then he could just use the journals to vent. It helped to organize his thoughts, and work things out.

After the coffee was done, he didn’t even bother to take it out from the machine. He simply downed the entire thing from the pot, the scalding liquid burning his throat and tongue, but after a couple of seconds he was almost fully awake. He was going to need it: there was no way he was going to sleep after that phone call. His supposed nieces and nephews were coming, and he needed to be ready.

A part of him was excited. He and Stan loved being with Shermies son Lex, and would often argue about who was a better uncle. It was one of those fond memories that made it difficult to hate Stan completely. Ford could still remember them trying to make their nephew laugh by making silly faces. It was childish, but it was fun.

But another part of him was dreading. If he were to look after and help his nieces and nephews, didn't that mean that he had to reconnect with his estranged brother as well? To talk to him again after ten long years?

That would not go well. Stanley had always been too stubborn for his own good, it was probably what put him in this situation in the first place.

Regardless, this was happening, whether Ford liked it or not, and now he needed to call Ma.

“STAN! DAD! FOR GOODNESS SAKE OPEN THE DOOR!” Wendy yelled, banging her fists on the giant metal doors of the warehouse.

Mabel whimpered at the noise, and Dipper rubbed her back some more, though it was probably more for his sake. It had been five minutes since Dad had locked them in here. She was clinging onto her brother, her hand clutching Waddle's leash. She cracked her eyes open for just a second to see Wendy ram into the doors again with her shoulder, cursing under her breath in the voice she probably thought was quiet enough for Mabel not to make out the words.

Spoiler alert, she did hear them.

“Wendy, dude, you need to calm down,” Soos’s soft voice was somehow still audible through the banging of metal. Their older brother was coming up behind Wendy, palms outstretched as if he were surrendering. 

Wendy didn’t pay him any mind, still too focused on trying to ram the door open, until he wrapped her in a bear hug and pulled her away from the door. Wendy yelped, and started to try and scramble out of his hold. But Soos held firm, surprisingly strong.

“Let me go Soos, he’s going to get himself killed!” Wendy yelled.

“I know dude,” Soos said, “But look, you can just get out by picking the lock. You said you had your lock picking stuff. This door isn’t going to budge.”

“Oh, right,” Wendy said, calming down. Soos held onto her for another beat, before letting her go.

Their older sister immediately began searching her pockets for her lock picks. As soon as Mabel was sure that Wendy was not going to try to force her way through the door again, she let go of Dipper. Her brother immediately grabbed her hand, needing contact. She reciprocated by squeezing his hand in comfort.

She watched Wendy as she fumbled around with the lock, her hands trembling in both fear and anger, her eyes going glassy and refocusing over and over again.

“Wendy, are you ok?” Dipper asked her in a soft voice.

“I’m fine.” Wendy said roughly, the lock slipping from her hand again. She cursed under her breath and grabbed it angrily again.

Dipper and Mabel shared a look.

“...Do you really think that they are going to kill dad?” Mabel asked.

Wendy paused, her eyes widening. Her trembling hands gripped her tools so hard her knuckles turned white. She looked up at the kids, the fear the longing in their eyes. She sighed, and looked away.

“...I don’t know.” she said in an almost whisper, “They… the way he talked about them… I’m not going to sugarcoat it. I don't know what they are going to do to him, but they need to catch him first. Theres a chance he’ll be able to outrun them but I don’t- I don’t know.”

Wendy looked up at them, her eyes becoming wet with tears.

“But if we do find him, I will kill him myself.” she said with such conviction it gave Mabel a little bit of hope, before she turned back to trying to pick the lock, muttering angrily under her breath as she did so, “Stupid Martyr, it’ll keep you safe, like we can’t help ourselves. Like we haven't been through all of this together already. We can handle ourselves, dammit! We should be in this together-”

Wendys words slowly became more incoherent as her voice lowered, until Mabel couldn’t make out any more of what her older sister was saying.

“Dudes, don’t worry about Dad,” Soos said, both twins turning to face them, “This is Dad we are talking about! The Stanley Pines! If anything, they should be worried. He is the greatest con man to ever exist! I’m sure he’ll think of something!”

“Yeah, and when he does, I am going to tie him to the Van and never let him out of my sight.” Wendy said, turning to them with a giant fake grin plastered to her face. A second later, the lock gave way and fell into her hand. Wendy locked eyes with Soos, and, with that one unspoken agreement, the pair quickly opened the doors.

The warehouse district was as barren as they had last seen them, and there was no sign of their Dad or his pursuer.

“Where is he?” Dipper asked.

“I don’t know.” Wendy said, eyes scanning the empty scene for any clues as to where their father was, “But we have to find him. Dipper, you come with me, Soos and Mabel… and Waddles, you guys go the other way. We’ll cover more ground if we split up. We’ll meet back up at the van at around five.”

“...What happens if we don’t find him?” Mabel asked in a soft voice.

Wendy and Soos exchanged a look.

“I don’t… I don’t know.” Wendy said, “We- … we’ll figure something out, ok? Come on Dipper, lets go.”

Mabel watched sadly as Wendy and Dipper ran off and out of sight behind a corner. Her grip on Waddle's lead tightened, as she tried to tell herself over and over again that her father would be fine, he was always fine.

Soos nudged his little sister's shoulder with his elbow. Mabel looked up and he gave her a reassuring smile.

“Come on dude, let's go save Dad, just like the Question would. We could even become real life superheroes, whatdoya think?”

Mabel gave him a tight smile.

“Ok, let's go save Dad.” she said, grabbing her older brother's hand, “Come on Waddles, you can be my sidekick!”

The pig just continued sniffing around on the ground, only looking up when Mabel tugged on his lead. The trio walked off into the warehouse district, with Mabel repeating a mantra in her head over and over again.

Dads gonna be fine, he's always fine.

We’ll find him.

We will find him.

Chapter Text

It was hours past five o’clock. But Dipper could tell Wendy wasn’t going to stop any time soon. 

She had been power walking through the city, forcing Dipper to run to catch up to her. She didn't speak, did not stop for lunch, to eat, or drink, instead, yelling out in frustration every time they hit a dead end.

Wendy didn’t share her search methods with the class, despite how much time Dipper spent trying to get her attention. 

He couldn’t be angry with her though, Dipper could tell that she was scared. She was scared that they wouldn’t find Dad, or they would and…

And…

Dipper didn’t want to think about it.

In any case, this was her way of being scared. She was a doer: she needed to do something otherwise she would break down.

Kind of like a shark would die if it stopped moving, Dipper thought unhelpfully.

Dipper tried to push the thought out of his head. He didn’t want to think about death. He might have only been 10 years old, but he had been forced to grow up quickly due to circumstance. As much as their father wanted to protect them, there was only so much he could do.

“Wendy.” Dipper tried to get his sister's attention for what felt like the fiftieth time that hour, “Wendy!”

Frustrated, Dipper grabbed Wendy's sleeve and pulled, planting himself on the sidewalk. Wendy tried to ignore him, and pushed forward like a bulldozer, but Dipper held firm.

“ Wendy, ” he said firmly.

“What?!” Wendy snapped back, and Dipper fought the urge to flinch away. She wasn’t angry with him, not really. If anything she was angry with their father.

“Its ten o’clock at night.” Dipper stated.

“Yeah, so what?” Wendy asked.

“Soos and Mabel will start to worry if we don’t get to the van.” Dipper said, “And maybe they found Dad. Maybe he’s with them. We need to go back.”

Wendy glowered at him, but her expression started to soften.

“Ok, we can go back.” she said after a long pause, her voice softer, “Let's go see if the others had any luck.”

Dipper smiled at her, in a way he hoped was reassuring, but if she did see it Wendy didn’t react. She simply turned towards the direction of the van in silence, though thankfully she was walking at a slower pace. Dipper walked next to her, glancing up.

She looked awful, with huge bags under her eyes, which were red and puffy, as if she was trying not to cry. Trying not to break down.

Dipper felt his chest tighten at the sight.

After their father, or perhaps more so, Wendy was the most stubborn and tough person Dipper knew. She never cried, never backed down from a fight, especially if someone was out to hurt her siblings.

Dipper didn't think he’d ever seen her so distressed.

The streets were busy at this time of the evening. Dipper had to physically cling onto his sister in order to not get lost in the sea of people. She didn’t react when he wrapped his fingers around her hand.

Somehow, against all odds, Wendy managed to lead the two to the alley where the van was parked about an hour or two afterwards. It was as if she were on autopilot, and Dipper had to stop her from walking across the road several times because she was just powering through.

When they got to the van, Dipper was the one who had to knock. And when Mabel and Soos opened the door with sullen but hopeful faces, Dipper knew that they had reached a dead end as well.

He shook his head, and his other siblings' faces fell.

“Where could dad be!” Mabel asked, a couple of hours after they had settled down on the table, that suddenly felt barren and empty without their father, “It's not like this place is very big!”

Soos had managed to scrounge up some dinner for all of them: the apples, and a few old chip bags that they had saved for emergencies. However, despite the obvious hunger from the kids, the food was left untouched.

“Maybe he skipped town or something.” Dipper said dryly, “I mean, Dad did say he wanted us to be safe, what better way to keep us safe then to get those people as far away from us as possible?”

“Dipper's right dudes,” Soos said, “Maybe he’s managed to skip town or something, and is heroically trying to take down all the bad guys, just like the Question would.”

“That still doesn’t help us though.” Dipper huffed, “I mean, how are we supposed to find him if he’s skipped town? He could be literally anywhere! He could have gone in any direction, and it's been hours!”

Soos, ever the optimist, the oldest who always tried to find a silver lining, a solution, said nothing. At some point, it started to rain outside, adding to the dreary atmosphere.

Dipper looked up at his older sister. Wendy had not moved, hadn't said a word in minutes. She just… stared.

“...Wendy?” Mabel asked, “What are we going to do?”

There was a long pause. Wendy didn’t move. She only continued to stare vacantly at the table.

For a moment, Dipper thought she wouldn’t say anything. And then:

“...I, I don’t know.” she said softly, “He left… what if he doesn’t- doesn’t-”

She shivered, holding her arms and curling up into herself.

Mabel and Dipper exchanged looks, and the former jumped from her seat in the van and quickly swiped their fathers tattered old red jacket from behind his seat. She handed it over to Soos, who quickly draped the thing over Wendy’s shoulders.

She didn’t react for a couple of seconds, before she slowly, almost automatically fitted her arms into the jackets sleeves, before zipping herself inside and shoving her hands into the pockets.

From beside her, Soos pulled her into his side, and Wendy immediately buried her head into his chest. Soos wrapped his arms around her in a bear hug. The twins watched on in silence, not sure what else to do.

Suddenly, Wendy tensed. She eased herself out from Soos’s hug and he let her go, though he looked visibly confused.

“Wendy?” Dipper asked.

His older sister's brow was furrowed, a look of confusion etched onto her face. She looked down at the left jacket pocket, and pulled out an old, weathered photo. She stared at it, her fingers trembling. Soos leaned over to look at the photo, his eyes widening significantly when he looked at it.

“Dude, is that… is that Dad and… Uncle Ford?” Soos said.

“What?!” Mabel said, “lemme see!”

Mabel scrambled down from her seat and forced her way into Wendy's lap. She hadn’t moved since looking at the picture, and paid no mind to her little sister, even as she planted her face in front of her.

Mabel gasped.

“Is that the Stan’o’war?” She asked.

Dipper wasn’t concentrating on his siblings' antics, however. His eyes were fixated on something written on the back of the photograph, something he could not yet make out. It looked like… numbers, numbers instead of letters. And from what he could see, it was the same messy scrawl of their fathers handwriting.

“What is that?” he asked no one in particular.

Immediately his three siblings looked up at him.

“What is what?” Wendy asked.

“That… there's something written on the back of it.”

Wendy turned the photo around, and read whatever was written on the other side.

“It… it's a phone number.” Wendy said, “I don’t- I don’t recognize it though.”

“Whose phone number could it be?” Mabel asked.

Wendy's head snapped up.

“Its probably Uncle Fords.” Wendy said, “Dad told me to- he told us to go to Oregon to ask Uncle Ford for help. Maybe he could help us.”

“Yeah, but doesn’t Uncle Ford hate Dad?” Dipper asked. 

Wendy hesitated, but looked up at Dipper with a newfound determination.

“I don't think we have a choice.” She said, standing up, “I’m going to go out and call him. You four stay here. Do not go out, and do not open the door for anyone but me. And if I’m not here by morning… find a way to Oregon. Find Uncle Ford and… and get him to help us.”

“Wait, why won’t you be back by morning?”

Wendy hesitated.

“I will be. But, just in case, go to Oregon.” she said, pulling the hood of the jacket over her head and opening the door of the van, “See you guys soon.”

With that, Wendy stepped out of the van and closed the door behind her.

The three remaining siblings stared at the door for a long time after she left, the only noise being the trickling rain outside.

No one dared to break the silence.

“So let me get this straight.” Fiddleford said, pinching the bridge of his nose and pacing around the room, “You have just found out that ya twin brother, who ya so graciously forgot to mention existed, has four children. Also, he’s been kidnapped by the Colombian Mafia, or so his daughter told ya, and now the four kids are coming over here, because you invited them over, since apparently no one else is looking after them.”

“That is what I said.”

Fiddleford suddenly stopped and looked up with an angry expression on his face. Not that Ford could see it, scribbling in his journal as he documented another strange artifact.

“How are you being so calm right now!” Fiddleford yelled, “Scratch that, how are you even writing in that damn journal when all this is happening? If I didn’t know you were a terrible liar, I wouldn’t believe ya!”

“Because this might still all be an elaborate trick, orchestrated by my brother to get something from me, or ruin my life. Again.” Ford snapped, not looking up from the artifact: a strange glowing blue object shaped slightly like a horseshoe, or a broken off circle, with darker blue lines like some kind of magic code delicately etched onto it. It looked like it was only a part of something else, but he couldn’t seem to find anything that attached to it in any other part of the fores-

Before Ford could finish his thought, his chair spun around so suddenly he yelped and almost dropped the artifact, and was then almost nose to nose with his partner. 

Fiddleford looked furious. Ford didn’t think he had ever seen his roommate that angry since that girl broke his robot prototype and laughed at him for the rest of the semester.

“Wh- Fiddleford, wha-” Ford started.

“You're acting like ya don’t even care about your brother.” Fiddleford said, “I know that sometimes it's difficult for ya ta understand people, but when ya brother, no matter how estranged he may be, might be in danger, ya need ta show some concern.”

Fords eyes darkened.

“You’re right. I don’t care.” he snapped, catching Fiddleford off guard.

“What do you mean you don’t care?! Wh- why wouldn’t you care, Stanford? He’s your brother, your twin, how can you be so heartless!”

“Because Stanley ruined my life!”

“And how did he ruin your life, exactly?” Fiddleford asked, crossing his arms and raising a brow.

“Because he was the one who broke my perpetual motion machine, and cost me my chance to get into West Coast Tech.” Ford sneered, turning around to go back to the artifact, “And then he acted as if it wasn’t a big deal! West Coast Tech was my one chance to leave Glass Shard for good, and make a name for myself. Where people could take me seriously!”

Fiddleford remained silent for a few seconds. And Ford thought that it was finally the end of the conversation.

And just as well, because Ford had to do a lot before his niblings came over. When he’d talked to Ma the night before, she had had a lot to say to him. He’d avoided the subject of Stanley for so long, because she would often get super touchy around that subject, but she had been overjoyed to hear that he was finally meeting them. He’d skimmed over most of the details for that reason, including the one where Stanley could be in danger, because truthfully, knowing Stanley, it was probably a story fabricated by his brother to not have to talk to him and get him to look after his kids at the same ti-

“...So, meeting me and getting to go study anomalies in Gravity Falls means your life is ruined?” Fiddleford asked, his tone carefully neutral.

Ford froze, not expecting the question. His hand twitched after a couple of seconds, the pen in his fingers almost slipping out of his grip.

“...I… that's not what I mean Fiddleford.” Ford said. However, before he could explain, there was a knock at the door. 

Ford turned his chair around and met eyes with Fiddleford. In silent agreement they walked over to the front door of the house/research lab.

Ford opened the door, and he was met with the sight of four children standing on his front porch.

The child closest to Ford was a girl, with fiery red hair and a determined look on her face. She was wearing a lumberjack hat and a red coat and ripped jeans, with shoes that looked old and worn. 

Behind her, all huddled together, was one large boy with the appearance of a hairless gopher, with what looked like a knitted sweater with a giant question mark in the middle, and cargo shorts. Two small children - twins by the look of them, one boy and one girl - were on either side of him, with the girl holding onto a leash attached to a pig. The girl was wearing a pink sweater with a star on it, while the boy was wearing a blue hat with a pine tree on it and a sleeveless coat.

The first thing that came to Ford's mind was how cold they must all be in the freezing Oregon autumn.

And then he realized that the coat the girl was wearing was achingly familiar.

The coat, which Ford remembered being bright red, was now worn and flayed in some places, the colour having been dulled after 11 years of use.

That damn coat

Ford’s heart sank like a rock.

Chapter Text

Ford stared at the kids for a few seconds, and the kids stared back. After a couple of seconds, the girl standing on his front porch smiled slightly.

“You look just like him.” she said with an amused huff. She sounded familiar - she must be Wendy.

“Like who?” Ford asked.

“...Dad.” she said flatly.

Ford blinked owlishly at her.

“Oh, right.” Ford said, not knowing what else to say.

They continued to stare at each other for a couple more seconds.

“Um, Ford?” Fiddleford said from behind him, “Why don’t we let the kids in? It's freezin’ out there.”

“Oh, um, right, of course, come in.” Ford said, opening the door wider to let the kids inside. They only hesitated for a moment before entering.

Wendy came in first, side eyeing Fiddleford as Ford led the four kids (and the pig) into the living room. When they were all inside, Wendy turned and stared at Fiddleford.

“Who are you?” she asked, accusatory.

“Fiddleford Hadron McGucket, at ya service.” he said, making the little girl snigger under her breath, “I’m Ford's research partner.”

“You have a funny name.” the little girl said out of nowhere, jumping up to sit on Ford's sofa. Her brother sat down next to her, and Ford realized that they were Stanley's twins: his biological children. He could see the resemblance clear as day. They looked like him and Stanley when they were younger. They had the same face shape and eyes, although their hair was slightly lighter than Ford's own.

Fiddleford laughed.

“Yeah, I guess you're right, my name is kinda funny ain’t it?” his friend said, and Ford had to bite his tongue to resist the urge to correct his grammar (it never went well), “So what's your name, little lady?”

“I’m Mabel!” she said brightly, flashing a toothy smile (Ford noticed that a couple of her teeth were slightly wonky), “An’ this is Mason, but everyone just calls him Dipper ‘cause he has a cool birthmark!”

Mason - or Dipper - blinked at his sister shyly and looked up at Ford with a strange expression.

“Oh, and this is Wendy and Soos,” the little girl - Mabel - said brightly, “They are the best big siblings!”

Ford looked back at the boy-who-resembles-a-gopher - Zeus apparently - who was standing in the middle of the room awkwardly, and was staring at the dinosaur skull with morbid interest.

He then turned to see Wendy, and almost jumped out of his skin.

She was staring - no glaring - at him with a hardened expression. There was some kind of fury in her eyes, mixed with scrutiny and judgment.

He blinked at her.

“And does the pig have a name as well?” Fiddleford asked, in that same silly tone adults use on children.

“Yeah, his name is Waddles.” Mabel said, picking up the fat thing with surprising ease, “Because when he walks around on his little feet, he looks like he’s waddling.”

“That is a mighty creative name, I must say.” Ford's partner said, “Ya know, I used to live on a farm, and me and my brothers were always messin’ around with the pigs. I have some funny stories if ya wanna hear them later.”

Mabel's eyes lit up.

“That would be super fun!” she said with starry eyes.

Ford couldn't help but chuckle.

Fiddleford looked up at him and smiled approvingly.

“Of course, we can do that later.” he said with a smile, “How about we get something to eat, you all look half starved.” he then looked back at Ford and then continued with a faux whisper - “Don’t tell Ford, but I managed to buy some of that extra sweet hot chocolate that he hates. Didya want some?”

“Yes please!” Mabel said in an equal faux whisper, and her twin also seemed to perk up a bit, “Dad said I know how to make the best hot chocolate!”

“Really? Well then, why don’t ya make us some then? I can show you where the stuff is, so that you and ya brother can make it?”

Mabel nodded enthusiastically. She jumped off the couch and ran into the kitchen after Fiddleford, her brother and pet pig trailing behind her. Ford was about to tell them that he didn’t want a filthy pig in his kitchen, but they left too quickly for Ford to tell them.

And so Ford was left in his living room with an angry teen and a boy who was still staring at his dinosaur skull.

He suddenly felt really uncomfortable in the silence.

“You don't seem particularly worried.” Wendy said after a couple of tense minutes. Ford huffed.

“Stanley is probably fine.” he said.

Wendy glared harder at him.

“He’s probably fine?!” she echoed, “What do you mean he’s probably fine? He has been chased by the Colombian Mafia, and you just think he’s perfectly fine?!”

Ford just gave her an unimpressed look.

“I’m not sure I can believe that.” he said, making Wendy sputter and Zeus look up at him in shock, “My brother was always exaggerating stories when we were younger, and I suspect he is some kind of pathological liar. Even if that is what he told you, he was probably just exaggerating - as usual.”

Wendy just stared at him with a dumbfounded and horrified expression.

“Dude!” Zeus said, his eyes also widened in shock, “Other Mr. Pines, Dad would never lie to us. Sure, he lies to others sometimes, but he always tells us the truth! How could you even think that?”

“You really don’t care about him do you?” Wendy snapped, “You know, that's what he told us, when the nights were bad. That his entire family hates him. I tried to tell him, we all tried to tell him that there was no way that was true. That Gran still loved him. That you still loved him. I guess I was wrong about that, huh.”

“First of all,” Ford started, “Its Dr. Pines and secondly, I know Stanley more than you do. We grew up together. We were twins. If anything Stanley is probably being chased by someone he annoyed one time, and he’s just overreacting.”

“Overreacting?!” Wendy yelled, “Overreacting?! I’ll show you overreacting you- you monster!”

But just before Wendy could do anything else, Fiddleford came back into the room. His eyes shifted between the occupants in the room, before sighing.

“Listen, Wendy was it?” he started, “Ford already told me what ya told him, but I wanna hear more of the story from your end. Could ya please enlighten me as to what happened, exactly?”

Wendy huffed, giving Ford a glare but ultimately dropped the argument, for now at least.

“You didn’t have to send the kids away for that. They… they already know what happened. They were there, and they are more mature than most kids their age.” she informed them.

“That may be the case,” Fiddleford said before Ford could say anything else, “But they’re still young’uns, and they don't need to hear the story again.”

Wendy sighed dramatically, and sat down on the sofa, Zeus sitting down next to her. Fiddleford followed suit, sitting down on an armchair while Ford leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

“Its… I mean, its not that long of a story to be honest. We… we were travelling, and found ourselves in this town just outside of Oregon. It was fine at first. We got up, had breakfast, and then we went off to do our own thing. Dipper and Soos hung out together at the library, while I found some other teens to talk to, I guess. Mabel went with Dad, just to hang out together.” Wendy began.

“Dad said it's dangerous to hang out altogether, ‘cause it draws too much attention to ourselves.” Zeus explained, “There are a lot of shady people around, and Dad didn’t want them to know he had kids. I hung out with Dipper yesterday, but then Dad came in saying he was being followed, and to go hide out in the warehouse district with the little Dudes.”

“He was being followed?” Fiddleford echoed, his eyebrows furrowing, “...Does that happen a lot?”

Wendy and Zeus shared a look.

“...Sometimes. Not too often though.” Wendy said, “I mean… we move around a lot, just to lose anyone who might be on our tail. Dads… job allows him some flexibility with that. But anyways, after he went to get Soos and the twins, he came to me. We all met up in the warehouse where…”

Wendy took a deep breath in through her nose, opened her mouth and immediately shut it, staring directly at the floor. The three other occupants in the living room all stared at her for a few seconds, before Zeus placed his hand on Wendy's shoulder and looked up at them.

“Dad um, he hid us in one of the warehouses and ran away, to- to lead them all away.” he said quietly, “He… we couldn’t chase after him, and by the time we… We spent all afternoon looking for him. He disappeared completely. I want to think, I really want to think that he’s ok, he is Mr. Pines after all, but… I don’t, know what to think anymore.”

The room was suddenly strangely quiet.

Ford didn’t know what to think. On the one hand they looked genuinely upset. However, on the other hand, Ford was terrible at reading people, and could never tell if anyone was lying. And Stanley was a good liar. He had always been. Ford could recall a great number of times when he had lied flawlessly to other people to get what he wanted. He probably taught his children the same thing. Maybe Stanley had heard about Fords grant and thought he could coax some money out of him, for some kind of scheme. 

He probably had enough money after all, since Ford had watched several of his brother's commercials throughout the years, and he seemed to be doing well for himself.

So, in the end, Ford still wasn't entirely convinced that this wasn’t all an elaborate prank set up by his brother. But, on the smallest, slimmest chance that this might actually be real… he would humor the kids.

At least… for the time being.

They were his nephews and nieces after all, maybe they weren’t too influenced by his brother's bad example. At least… not just yet.

“...-no clue as to where your father may be?” Fiddleford was saying after Ford’s mind wandered back into the present.

The teens both shook their heads.

“Alrighty then. We can help ya find ya father.” Fiddleford said, “Me and Stanford that is. I’m sure we can come up with something to help ya out.”

“Thank you.” Zeus said, and Wendy nodded her head.

“Why don't ya go check on the kiddies, while me and Stanford have a little chat, alright?” Fiddleford said, and the other two complied almost straight away.

The roommates watched them leave, before Fiddleford shot Ford a look.

“What?”

“Do you believe them now?” he asked.

Ford stayed silent.

His research partener groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly exasperated.

“Stanford…” he groaned.

“What? You don't think that this whole thing sounds a bit far fetched?” Ford asked.

“No, Stanford I don’t. And do you know why? Because I know children, and they are genuinely upset. And, I fear that something else might be happening.”

“What do you mean?”

Fiddleford gave him another look.

“You don’t think that something is off with them? Like somethings wrong?”

Ford blinked at him.

“Yes, of course. They are obviously lying for some reason.”

Fiddleford could only stammer in response, for some strange reason. He then proceeded to grip his hair and walk out, muttering something incoherent under his breath.

Ford just watched him leave, wondering what he said that made Fiddleford act like that.

Honestly, Fiddleford sometimes acted extremely erratically and strangely. Other people were weird sometimes.

With nothing else to do, Ford went into the kitchen. Maybe he could pour some coffee into his hot chocolate before he figured out how to deal with the kids.

Stan was running.

What else was new.

He had somehow managed to lose his pursuers temporarily, though he didn’t know how long this could go on for.

It started with only one.

Then there were three.

Then five.

Then eight.

He was running out of places to run to, to hide.

He hadn’t slept in over 27 hours. He was running on pure adrenaline. And a promise.

He had to meet up with the kids at Fords. He couldn’t get caught. Not with them counting on him.

But how many times had he failed people counting on him?

He couldn’t go on.

But he had to.

He turned a corner in the alleyway.

It was a dead end. A stupid mistake.

He was trapped. He had to fight.

There was no escape.

Chapter Text

Fiddleford  might not be showing it on the outside, mostly for the kids sake, but he was absolutely livid .

And the object of his fury? None other than his friend from college, Stanford Pines.

And this was of course, for a number of things:

First of all, he had never even mentioned he had a twin . Something he probably should have led with when he first asked about his family, way back then. Though, he was also angry at the rest of the family, since they barely ever mentioned him either for some reason.

Secondly, his hatred for this supposed brother. While it was true that Ford had not been given the chance to explain, in detail, his animosity towards his brother, it seemed clear to Fiddleford that whatever grudge Ford held should have at least simmered down after the ten years he had spent apart from Stanley. So what if he had cost him a scholarship to West Coast Tech? If any of Fiddlefords own siblings broke something of his that was so important, he would be angry with them, sure, but they’d get over it, and be bickering as usual in less than a week. Besides, West Coast wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be, according to his cousin.

Thirdly, his anger had blinded him to the state of his own niblings. Ford couldn't see it, he could be so oblivious to things that he didn't find interesting or concerning. But Fiddleford did see it.

He saw the tiredness in their eyes. He saw the way the oldest girl looked around nervously, surveying her surroundings. He saw the way their clothes looked either old and worn, or dirty and way too big. He saw the way the littluns eyes widened when he’d asked if they wanted hot chocolate, in contrast to the way their cheeks were sunken and hollow. Things you should never see in children.

Something was clearly wrong.

And Fiddlefords friend couldn't see it. 

Was it because he was too arrogant and didn't want to believe it? Or was it because he was just so bad at reading people, he honestly couldn’t see what was right in front of him?

Either way, Ford was not in his good books right now. But, he could be angry with him later. Right now, the kiddies needed an adult who could help them out. And since Ford was not going to even try, it was up to Fiddleford. 

As usual.

So that's why, when he entered the kitchen to check on them, he wore a bright smile on his face, trying to hide the fact that he had just been in the process of pulling out his hair because of his friend. The younguns were all sitting around the table with six mugs of hot chocolate, all of them topped up with whipped cream, marshmallows and colourful sprinkles (with some added glitter, which made Fiddleford wonder where it came from).

Mabel looked up when he came in and smiled back brightly at him.

“Hi Fiddleford!” she said, “I made you some hot chocolate too!”

“Well, thats mighty kind of you.” he said, “Where’d you like me to sit?”

Mabel pondered over the question for a second, before pointing at the seat next to her and Soos. He smiled and took his seat in between the pair. He picked up his mug, still steamy and warm, and took a long sip.

His eyes almost bulged out of his head.

This was the best hot chocolate he’d ever had. And he wasn't just saying that to be nice. Mabel had some real talent.

Wendy met his gaze and smirked.

“You surprised?” she asked.

“A bit,” Fiddleford said, turning to look at Mabel, “Where’d ya learn to make hot chocolate like that?”

“Mum taught me.” Mabel said sweetly, “I just perfected it. Dad says it always gets better when I try.”

Fiddleford nodded solemnly. He’d suspected, when Ford had told him about the kids, that their mother wasn't in the picture anymore. He suspected as much when Ford told him that they had no one else to look after them, but hearing the younguns say it like that… it honestly made him sadder.

And angrier at Ford.

“Hey, Fidds,” Mabel said, “Could you tell us some funny stories like you said you would?”

Fiddleford chuckled lightly.

“How about I tell you the tale about how my brothers thought it was a good idea to try their luck sledding down a pile of straw?” he asked.

The twins' eyes widened, and even the older kids looked intrigued.

It wasn't long before everyone on the table was laughing at his stories. The sunken and defeated expression that had haunted the kids' faces lifted slightly. Their eyes started to shine with that childlike happiness that had been missing beforehand. Even Wendy, with her hardened exterior, smiled a little more, though she didn't say much.

It was a long while before Fiddleford realized that Ford wasn't there. The hot chocolate that Mabel had prepared for him was sitting on the table, getting cold. The whipped cream on top had melted into the milk, turning it a lighter shade of brown, covered in drooping marshmallows and a lot of glitter.

It was only when his friend cleared his throat in the hallway, interrupting the story of Fiddlefords little brother trying to ride the prized pig, that he realized that Ford hadn’t been there for what felt like hours.

“I, um, I cleaned out the guest bedroom.” he said awkwardly, his face turning slightly red as everyone in the kitchen stared at him in silence, “If you guys want to… take your stuff there or um… yeah.”

Everyone just stared at him. Ford looked extremely uncomfortable being the centre of attention.

Fiddleford sighed. As much as his friend deserved to be uncomfortable after all of the ridiculous things he had been saying, Ford could get extremely ansty in front of a crowd (unless they were all there to praise him, Fiddleford found). And as his friend, Fiddleford had to get him out of the situation.

“Alright kids,” he said with a sigh, “I think its high time we called it in for the night.”

“Oh, come on,” Mabel pouted, “One more story, please?”

“Maybe when you have gotten ready for bed.” Fiddleford said kindly, “I could tell ya a couple more as a bedtime story, alright?”

“Ok, fine.” Mabel whined. She jumped off her chair, dragging her pig and twin brother along with her. Dipper yelped.

Soos and Wendy chuckled and got up too, walking past Ford who was giving them a quizzical expression, leaving only him and Fiddleford in the room.

He gave Ford a look.

“You know, Mabel made you some hot chocolate.” he said bluntly, “It's cold.”

“Yes, sorry, I, um. I was going to join you and the children, but um, I remembered that they probably needed a place to sleep.” Ford said, “And I haven’t been in the spare bedroom in a while, so I had to clean it and make room for them so…”

Fiddleford blinked at him.

“That was… very thoughtful of you.” he said, flabbergasted.

“Yes, well,” Ford said, playing with his hands like he always did when he was nervous, “they might be lying about stuff, but they are my brothers kids. They’re… family.”

And there it was.

Fiddlefore sighed and pushed down the urge to call his friend a hypocrite for that statement. Maybe stew over it for a while. Because his brother was family, and he didn’t even care.

“They are not lying.” he reiterated.

“But you asked me if I thought something was wrong, and it's because they are lying.” Ford tried, “They probably got it from Stanley, after all.”

“Thats not what I meant, Stanford.” Fiddleford said calmly, trying to keep his anger in check, “Didya not see their clothes? They were too thin for this weather, old and probably second hand.”

Ford blinked owlishly.

“I didn’t… I didn’t notice.” he said, “Did they… was that really…?”

“Yes Stanford.” Fiddleford said, “They had those worn clothes, probably because they don't have enough money for any other. I have a bad feeling that ya brother wasn’t as well off as you thought.”

Ford blinked again, his brain processing the words at an alarmingly slow rate for such an acclaimed genius. Fiddleford just stood there patiently, trying to let his friend figure it out on his own.

“I… I don't know what to think of that.” he finally said, “I think… I think I will need to go to the Mailbox tomorrow. See if I can get some proper answers.”

Fiddleford sighed. That was probably the best deal he was going to get.

“Alright, tomorrow you can go. How about you help me get the kiddies to bed, and we can talk in the morning, alright?” he said, placing a hand on Ford's shoulder.

His friend nodded, but with his glazed over eyes it was difficult to tell if he actually heard him or if that was just his automatic response.

He grabbed Ford's hand and dragged him upstairs. His friend didn't protest.

……….

Stan didn't know how long he’d been here for. The room was almost completely empty, devoid of anything. At least that was the impression he’d gotten before they’d turned the lights off completely.

He could have been there for hours. Or days.

They hadn’t checked up on him since they’d tied him to the chair and left. Truthfully, Stan was just thankful he was alone. But he knew what was coming, and that sent his brain into panic mode.

The complete silence was deafening, but he couldn’t help but flinch at every sound, bracing himself for the oncoming storm.

Still, Stan knew that panicking wasn't going to get him anywhere. So, he instead focused on the pain, the fresh bruises and the countless other injuries he’d sustained while trying to get away from the eight men that were chasing him: of course he put up a fight, he was Stanley Pines after all, and he had a family that was counting on him.

Bruised knuckles from when he broke that guy's nose.

A stab wound on his leg.

A concussion.

Three broken ribs.

Two broken fingers, one fractured. 

A black eye.

Split lip.

Rope burn.

He kept repeating each one, trying to concentrate on something, anything, other than the rising dread in his stomach, the questions of what they would do to him. They already took his kidney the last time, what else are they going to-

It continued on for what felt like hours. He was in a state where he was starving, and thirsty, on the edge of unconsciousness but never quite reaching it.

Then the door opened, flooding the room with oppressive light.

Stan grimaced, trying to peer through the haze, his heart rate spiking.

The calm of the storm had ended.

And all that was left would be hell.

Chapter Text

The next day, Ford got up early to prepare. He was determined to get answers, and his most reliable source: the magic mailbox he’d found in the early days of his research.

Of course, it was not one hundred percent accurate, or useful. For some reason, it couldn’t tell him where all of Gravity Falls weirdness came from, or what the strange paintings in the cave really were. Still, it hadn’t failed him in any other way - yet - and could never lie.

He was going there today, alone, so that he could finally put an end to this entire fiasco, and prove that his brother really didn’t need any help.

It was a good plan.

It was a great plan in fact. 

But it seemed only he thought so.

“But Uncle Ford,” Dipper said, trailing around him like a duckling, “Can’t I come with you?”

“I- I don't think that is a very good idea, my boy.” he told him, rummaging around his drawers in the study for anything useful, “The woods around Gravity Falls can be very dangerous. I wouldn’t want you getting hurt.”

“I can handle it.” Dipper said stubbornly.

Ford sighed. This was the reason he didn't want kids. They were rather irritating, and tended not to leave you alone. They had… quite a few needs, needs that Ford simply couldn’t meet since he was too busy with his research.

Of course, Fiddleford had his son, Tate, and he’d come visit with Emma-May a couple of times. They’d moved into Gravity Falls after Ford had asked his old roommate to come over and help him out with his research. And the times when he’d come over, Ford had to drop everything he was doing and keep him away from all the artifacts and everything else that was mildly dangerous, and it left Ford absolutely drained of energy.

“I don't doubt it.” Ford said, “But… I still don’t think it's such a good idea. I can’t be worrying about you the entire time I’m there. It would be safer if you stayed behind with the rest of your siblings. Fiddleford is much better with kids than me, and you can have some fun with him.”

“Oh come on, Stan Two. Let the kid come with.”

Ford almost jumped out of his skin. He hadn’t heard Wendy come into the study. She was still wearing Stan's old coat, and a lumberjack hat.

“Absolutely not.” He said sternly, hoping the authority in his tone would make his oldest niece back down. She just raised a brow.

“Yes.” Wendy said, “You’re taking him with you. Because if you are so worried about having to look after him, then I will come with you and make sure he stays safe.”

“I- That is not a very good idea either,” Ford said stubbornly, “You two will just get in the way, and it's a long journey. With very dangerous creatures. The Hide behind. The Eye bats. The Manotours. I can’t have two children come with me.”

“Wait, this forest has cryptids?!” Dipper interrupted, suddenly looking very happy.

“Yes. Many different creatures that can be considered… cryptids.” Ford said, “So, it is not a safe enough place for you to be around, especially so deep into the forest.”

“Me and Soos have been reading about them when we get the chance,” Dipper rambled on, ignoring Ford's comment. Rude. “Ooh, does Bigfoot exist?! Kitsunes? Oh! Have you seen any Centaurs?”

Ford blinked, hesitating. 

He was… rather alarmed at his nephew's enthusiasm. But it was also… strangely endearing. To have someone else as enthusiastic as he was about cryptids and the unexplained phenomena that lived in Gravity Falls.

While Fiddleford was a great help in his research, he still wasn’t as enthusiastic about the gnomes or the eyeball bats as he was. Having someone else, who shared his interests-

No. No, it was way too dangerous. Especially for a child like Dipper, who couldn't be older than nine, at the very least.

But, if Wendy was coming…

Ford looked at her. She looked… capable. She was much older than the twins, and seemed like the kind of person that could hold their own.

Ford sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Ok. Fine. You two can come with me. But only you two. And you have to do every little thing I tell you. Ok?” Ford snapped.

Dipper's smile widened. Wendy smirked.

“Thanks Uncle Ford!” Dipper said, “I-I’ll go get my notebook! This is going to be so great!”

He ran off, supposedly to his room. Wendy watched him leave, then turned back to Ford.

“...What?” he asked.

“You aren't as bad as I thought, Stan Two.” she said.

“Whats that supposed to mean?” Ford asked.

She shrugged.

“I’m gonna get my axe. I’ll need it if the forest is as dangerous as you say it is.” she said, turning to leave the room.

“It's ‘going to’” he called out to her. She didn’t answer, probably didn't hear him.

Ford just huffed and went back to filling his bag with stuff. After he had everything, he turned to his desk. He hesitated only a second before grabbing Journal 2, and stuffing it into his trench coat pocket.

“What's going on here?”

Ford almost jumped out of his skin. He whipped around to see Fiddleford standing there, holding out a mug of black coffee.

“I’m going into the forest. To go see the mailbox.” Ford told his roommate, approaching him, “Dipper and Wendy asked if they could come with me, and I said yes.”

Fiddleford raised a brow.

“Do you think it’ll be safe for the younguns out there?” Fiddleford asked, “I mean, you and I both know how dangerous the forest is.”

“I… don't know,” Ford said, truthfully, “But they wanted to go. And, besides, they’re Stanley's kids. If anything… My brother can take care of himself. He stood up to bullies our whole childhood.”

“If you say so.” Fiddleford sighed, “I mean, I trust you Stanford, at least… most of the time. Just make sure the kids don’t get into harm's way while you’re out.”

“Yes, alright, and I trust that you can look after the others, Zeus and Mabel.”

“Yeah, I can look after ‘em. Compared to looking after Tate, these guys are easy. I might even ask Emma May to bring him. I’m sure Mabel and Soos would get along with him.” 

Ford nodded. That was probably a good idea. Having another adult around would certainly help with the kids, at least, until he finds Stanley.

“That might be a good idea.” Ford said, taking the coffee from his friend's hands. It was freshly made, the cup still burning his hands. 

He downed it in one gulp, and thanked his research partner for the beverage.

When he went outside, Dipper was already waiting for him, and Wendy was jumping down from a campervan that was parked next to the house.

Ford blinked.

That was… Stan’s, wasn’t it? Ford didn’t know what he expected. The Stanleymobile maybe?

Ford still remembered the day his brother finally got the Diablo. He was so proud and excited, having spent most of his allowance to get it. He spent the rest of his money on parts to fix the second-hand car. When he was done it looked as good as new, and he’d taken Ford on a drive that almost ended them in jail because of how fast they were going.

He loved that car. Ford vaguely wondered what happened to it. Why wasn’t Stan using his old car anymore? Did it break down? Was it too old to drive anymore?

“You ok, Uncle Ford?” Dipper asked, and that's when Ford realised that he had been staring at the van for too long.

He cleared his throat.

“Yes, I am perfectly fine, my boy. I’m just… thinking, is all.” he said with a smile.

Dipper blinked, before nodding.

“Come on Dipper, Stan Two.” Wendy said impatiently, “We’re wasting daylight! Isn’t this kind of urgent?”

“Well, um yes, I guess that is… Let's go then.” Ford said, moving towards the treeline, his coat billowing behind him as he walked.

The two kids followed after him.

…….

“...So, Steve was the one that destroyed your car.” Dipper said after they had trekked through the forest for half a day.

Despite his small stature, Dipper was very good at keeping up with Ford. They had only had to stop a couple of times, Dipper claiming he needed to sit down to rest. Ford had not wanted to stop, but Wendy had glared at him every time he had tried to continue, so he gave in (she could be scary sometimes, in that overprotective way Stan was).

Every time they stopped, Wendy would hand Dipper a granola bar. They’d share one between the two of them, almost in a way that seemed like rationing. They’d offer a meager piece to Ford, and he’d always decline. He caught Wendy glaring at him when he refused, catching him under some kind of scrutiny, but he ignored it, taking the resting times as an excuse to scribble things down in his journal.

But now they were only about a fifteen minute walk to the Mailbox. And fifteen minutes away from the answers to this, frankly ridiculous situation.

“Yes, he was.” Ford said, ducking under a low tree branch.

“And… he’s a hide-behind?”

“No. he’s more like… a forest giant.” Ford explained, “I’ve never really seen him fully. Just an arm. Or a leg. He looks… almost plant-like.”

It had been nice to talk to someone else that was as enthusiastic about the wonders of Gravity Falls. Especially one like Dipper, who seemed to be extremely smart for his age. He reminded Ford a lot of himself when he was younger. Full of questions, eager to learn. It seemed like even Stanley's bad influence on his kids didn’t affect his son's thirst for knowledge, something Ford was grateful for. It meant that he had someone with a similar mind, someone he could talk to easily. Someone who understood his own intellect, and could almost match it.

Wendy didn’t seem to really care for their conversation. She mostly just remained vigilant to the forest, her eyes scanning her surroundings for threats.

There were none so far.

Ford didn’t know if that was just luck, or if something worse was just waiting to come out. Maybe they were already being watched.

The next few minutes however, continued on as normal. Ford and Dipper got into a rather animated chat about where Bigfoot could be hiding - one cryptid that Ford himself had trouble finding - right up until they reached the clearing.

The mailbox stood at the center, the wooden plank it sat upon was covered in creepers and moss, and the white box itself was slightly rusted at its edges. 

“...Is that what we’re here for?” Wendy asked skeptically, “Who lives here?”

“No one does.” Ford explained, “It’s a magic mailbox. You write it a letter, asking a question, and it gives you a truthful answer.”

“Cool.” Dipper said, “C-could I try it?”

Ford hesitated. He really needed some answers. He needed to know what was going on. But… Dipper had been nice to talk to, and they had a lot of time to spare. Ford knew what it was like to have a thirst for knowledge, and honestly… would it be so bad if he could ask something?

“Ok.” Ford said, handing Dipper a pen, “What do you want to ask?”

“How the dinosaurs really died.” Dipper said, taking out his notebook and plucking the pen from Ford's hands. He wrote down his question and placed it into the slot. A second later, the flag sprung up. Ford opened the small door and handed his nephew the note.

The boy's eyes widened at the answer.

“Yes!” he said, grinning, “I knew it! Soos is going to love this! Ha!”

Ford and Wendy both looked over his shoulder and read the note as well.

“...Damn.” Wendy said, “That's… not what I was expecting.”

“You should have a go Wendy!” Dipper said enthusiastically, “Come on, isn’t there something you always wanted to know?”

Wendy hesitated, then shrugged.

“Um, I don’t know if that really is a good idea…”

“Come on Uncle Ford,” Dipper said, “I had a go, it's only fair that Wendy gets a turn too.”

Ford sighed.

“Fine, ok.” he said, handing Wendy the notepad and pen.

The girl took it, and stared at the page for a second. She began writing something down, stopped, and scribbled it out. She then proceeded to write something else down, rip the page out of the notepad and shove it through the slot.

Nothing happened for a couple of seconds.

“...What did you ask?” Dipper asked, nervously.

“Who is Jack the Ripper.” she said bluntly. The boys looked at her, dumbfounded, “What? I like reading crime stuff, and England has some of the craziest history. No one knows who it was.”

A moment later, the flag came up again. Wendy opened the slot and looked down at the note, a couple of paragraphs long. The boys both looked over her shoulder to read it.

When they had finished, all three of them were drained of colour.

“That was…” Ford said, as Dipper involuntarily gagged.

“Yeah. I know.” Wendy said, folding up the note and placing it into her pocket. She looked up at Ford, “Its your turn, Stan 2.”

Ford nodded and ripped out a page of his own notebook. Scribbling down his message.

Is everything the kids said true? Is Stanley really in danger? He wrote, before placing it into the slot.

The reply came not even a second later.

Yes Ford. Your brother is in grave danger.

If you do not do something soon, you might never see him again.

Chapter Text

Ford had found that sometimes, in particular moments of his life, he didn’t know what to think. It started mostly when he got older, like his feelings on the Stan’o’war, and his twin's insistence that they continue to work on it, even if it was never going to set sail. Not really.

Or that split second when Stanley left. Before he shut the curtains. He didn't know what to think. And that made him feel… empty. Like all his emotions had disappeared. Leaving only a hole, where they were meant to be.

He hated it, because he didn’t like feeling numb.

But he also loved it, because it meant that he didn’t need to feel, either. And sometimes that was better than having feelings.

But as Ford glanced down at his trembling hand, and the note his eyes skimmed through again and again, he felt the same feeling wash over him again.

Stan was… in trouble. But that… could it- no, no it- but that- he couldn’t- was Stanley really in danger…?

“Uncle Ford?” Dippers voice piped up from behind him, “Are you… ok?”

“Yeah you seem… considerably more pale than usual.” Wendy retorted from behind.

Ford ignored them, and wrote down another question:

What do you mean by that?

The reply came quickly:

I mean, the people who have taken him are planning on killing him.

Who has him?

The Colombian Mafia. Specifically their leader, known as ‘Rico’.

What are they planning on doing to him?

Killing him.

How? 

I don’t know yet.

What do you mean you don’t know?

Time is difficult to determine. There are multiple ways that this could play out, and I cannot know for certain what they will choose to do. Or what you will do. 

What do you mean by that?

You are insufferable sometimes, Mate. And you still seem to think that you hate your brother. You do not. Make peace with that. It will make things easier when you do. The future is tricky and can change at a moment's notice. There are many paths we could take, but I cannot know for certain what will happen.

Ford let out a flustered sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. This was getting him nowhere. He scribbled one last question.

Where will I find him?

There are many places you may find him. Here’s a list of the most likely places:

The mailbox gave him three different locations, which were all thankfully close to each other and near his own location. It ended off with a small note: I wish you luck on your journey, Mate. At least, do it for the kids. He’s a great father, even if you have no faith that he can be.

“Uncle Ford…?” Dipper asked tentatively, “What did you ask the mailbox, exactly?”

Ford finally turned back to look at the kids.

“I- I asked for where Stanley might be.” he said, “I… it gave me a few different locations, so we have something to work with, at least. And they are close together, if I am right, which I always am.”

“So… you’re going to help us find dad?” Wendy asked, sounding surprised.

“I… yes. I think I am.” he said softly, “Even though there is a lot of… animosity between the two of us, I- I still wouldn’t wish this upon him. At least, I don’t think so.”

“Really?!” Dipper said, a huge grin on his face. He ran up to Ford and hugged his leg, “Thank you so much Uncle Ford.”

Ford startled for a second at the sudden movement. He hesitated a second before reaching out a six-fingered hand to pat his nephew's head. Other people apparently liked it when he showed affection back at them, or so Fiddleford said. 

“That's… surprisingly mature of you Stan 2.” Wendy said, and before he could ask what she meant by that, she patted his shoulder, harder than she seemed capable of, making him step forwards to keep his balance, “I’m proud of you.”

“I, um, thank you?” Ford said, before pausing for a second, “In any case, we should get going as quickly as possible. I will need to make a plan of action with Fiddleford, and get some supplies, and I would rather go find Stanley sooner rather than later.”

“Yeah, thats probably a good idea.” Dipper said, peeling himself from Fords leg. He quickly adjusted his hat - it had moved slightly during the embrace - and looked up at Ford with a hopeful glint in his eye, “Dads probably in a lot of danger right now. Unless…”

Dipper didn’t finish the thought. Ford looked away, trying not to think about that either. Wendy frowned softly and ruffled Dipper's head. He batted her hand away and again readjusted his hat.

“Yeah, we should probably get back to the house.”  she said, matter-of-factly, “Lead the way Stan 2!”

Ford nodded and took the invitation to head back towards his home. The kids both followed behind him- or at least he thought so until he heard Wendy’s voice.

“Dipper? You coming kid?”

Ford turned back to see Dipper looking nervously in the forest. Wendy had also turned around, looking back.

“D-do you guys… feel that?” he asked.

“Feel… what exactly?” Wendy asked, but she froze as soon as the words were out of her mouth. Ford was going to ask Dipper himself, he was itching to get back home, and any more delays were just going to make him more and more nervous because Stanley was-

And then he felt it. 

It started small at first. He could barely feel the vibrations under his feet.

But they soon increased in strength. The pebbles around Ford's feet started to jump. The forest looked like static.

Ford's eyes widened. He knew what was coming. And it wasn’t good.

“Manotaur stampede.” he said almost to himself. Wendy still heard it though, and she turned to face him.

“A what stampede?” she asked, incredulous. Dipper turned towards the pair, his eyes widening.

“We need to get away!” he yelled, gesturing for the kids to run. Thankfully they wasted no time. The pair sped towards him as if they had prepared for this moment their entire lives. 

Ford led them through the trees, attempting to get out of the way of the Manotaurs path. But the rumbling continued, and it was getting stronger and stronger.

They weren’t going to make it out of their path anytime soon. And the crossbow was not going to help stop at least 2000 pounds of muscle and sweat. He needed to think of another solution. And fast.

If only there was-

There! Standing in the middle of his path was a giant redwood tree. He made a beeline towards it, before taking off his backpack and rummaging through it like his life depended on it. He took out his crossbow, a bolt and a rope, before trying to tie the rope around the bolt as securely as he could. However, he was in such a panic that he couldn’t stop trembling and the rope wasn’t cooperating.

“Let me.” Wendy said, suddenly beside him, taking the rope and bolt from his hands, and before Ford even registered what was going on, she was already pointing the crossbow towards the nearest branch and shooting it, so the bolt was securely lodged into the tree.

The rumbling was coming closer and closer.

Wendy pulled at the rope twice before turning to her brother, who was also suddenly there beside Ford.

“You go first.” she ordered, and her brother compiled without hesitation, scrambling up the rope like a squirrel.

She turned her attention to Ford.

“You next.” she said with a glare.

“No, you need to-”

“Stanford Filbrick Pines! Climb the rope or so help me!” she yelled over the quaking forest.

Ford was already climbing at breakneck speed before he could even think about it. Dipper was already sitting on the top of the branch, and he reached out a hand to help Ford up the last leg. 

And not a moment too soon. The Manotaurs were already here. They thundered through the forest, bringing up a cloud of dust. At any other moment, Ford would have been delightedly writing down any observations he made about the beasts in his journal, but this time he was terrified that the kids would get hurt. So he instead pushed Dipper against the trunk, shielding his nephew's body with his own. The tree shook for what felt like hours, and the sound of hundreds of legs running past continued for a while. 

Ford lost track of how much time they were hiding in the tree, before the forest was quiet again. He waited a whole minute before finally peeling himself away from Dipper and looking around the forest floor.

“Are you ok my boy?” Ford asked as Dipper also peeled away from the trunk and looked around, slightly dazed.

“...I think I’m alright.” he said tentatively.

“Thats good…” Ford said, breathless.

The pair stayed in silence for a couple of seconds, trying to ground themselves again.

“Um, uncle Ford?” 

“Yes?”

“...Where's Wendy?”

……….

“Hello Alcatraz. Or should I say… Stanley Caryn Pines.” Ricos voice was lighthearted, as if he were simply speaking to a friend. It sent shivers down Stan's spine. 

The man who had led him here, Jorge, pushed him forwards in front of the metal table. Stan suppressed a noise of surprise as he stepped forwards- right onto his injured leg. He stumbled to the ground and let out an involuntary hiss. Jorge grabbed him by the hair and pulled him into a kneeling position.

“It's been a while amigo .” Rico continued cheerfully, pouring himself a glass of whisky, “And I’m guessing you haven’t been able to pay what you owe us, no ?”

“Listen Rico.” Stan snapped, “It’s true that I’ve been a bit… delayed in getting the money. Its kind of hard to get a job with a criminal record. But trust me when I say I’m working on it. I’ll- I’ll get you the money. I just need a little more time.”

Rico scoffed.

“That's what you promised me the last time we met, Stanley.” he said, “And the time before that. And do you know what I’ve learned about you? You’re not very good at keeping your promises. I don’t think you have been very forthcoming with me either.”

Rico smirked at him.

“You didn’t tell me much about your… family .”

Stan paled. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t move.

Ricos smirk widened.

“I know how kids can be,” he said casually, “I myself am an uncle. My sister's got a couple of kids. They’re great, but I know how expensive they can be. If you had only told me you had a brood, I might have been a little bit more lenient. Let you do a couple of extra jobs for me, and maybe even overlooked the shipment you lost us-”

“Shipment?!” Stan interrupted in a flush of anger, “Those were people! You were trying to make me traffic human beings, you monster!”

Ricos expression soured. He nodded at Jorge, who proceeded to punch Stan in the back of the head. Hard. 

Stan swayed, willing himself not to throw up, as his vision blurring into static. And now he had a double concussion. Great.

“That was one thing you never learned, amigo .” Rico said, “Respect. It would have done you good. Alas, now it won’t save you. I was willing to give you another chance, at least for the sake of your children, but after that outburst I don’t think I have any patience left.”

Stan's eyes widened, but no matter what, his vision refused to focus on the man in front of him. When had he come to crouch down in front of him? Rico grabbed his chin and pulled his head towards him, as if he were inspecting an animal.

“I’m going to kill you, Stanley Pines.” Rico said simply, “And I am going to enjoy it. It won’t be merciful, but you already knew that. Take him away.”

Jorge grabbed Stan by the arm and pulled him up roughly.

“Oh, and before you go,” Rico said, a familiar evil smirk on his face, “Don’t worry about your kids. When I find them, I will… take care of them for you.”

And with that, Rico gave a flick of his wrist, and Jorge started to drag Stan away. He fought it of course, yelling back at Rico to stay away from the kids, to leave them out of this.

Rico ignored him, and downed the whisky in one go.

Chapter Text

“What do you mean you lost Wendy?” Fiddleford snapped at a sheepish looking Ford. The kids: Dipper, Mabel, Soos and Tate, all stared at the arguing men with wide eyes and unreadable expressions.

Emma-May sighed deeply. This was certainly not the way she thought this day would go. Not in the slightest.

When Fiddleford had called that morning, as he did every morning, and said that his friends nieces and nephews had come to visit, and if Emma-May wanted to come over with Tate to hang out while he explained the situation, Emma-May obviously agreed.

She didn’t think it would all come to… this. Whatever this was. The arguing, the threat that these kids' father, Ford's own brother, could be killed by the Mafia, of all things. 

And now this. Someone was missing. The oldest girl. Because of some strange stampede of creatures that she didn’t even want to think about.

Sure, she knew about the weirdness of Gravity Falls. Who didn’t know about it in this hick town? She had lost count of how many times she had chased gnomes out of her front yard, or found that the trees around the place she took her morning walk had mysteriously rearranged themselves. 

But this… this entire mess her husband had gotten her into… this really, really took the cake.

When she had gotten to the house, as quickly as she was able, with her son in tow, she had been greeted by the two sweetest kids she’d ever met, other than her own son, that is. Mabel took a liking to Tate as soon as she laid eyes on him, being roughly the same age as her son, while Soos was extremely polite towards her and engaged in a bit of small talk before offering to look after the kids.

However, underneath the facade, Emma-May could tell that something was… off about the kids. There was something in their eyes, something in their sunken cheeks and pale complexion. She could tell that her husband could see it too, the way he fidgeted when he was stressed. The way he looked like he desperately wanted to tell her something while she was speaking to Soos.

And when the boy finally left to go check on the littluns, Fiddleford had explained everything to her. About the late night phone call, the way Stanford was acting so strangely at the mention of his brother, how the kids were probably homeless and the fact that he had to go to that silly little mailbox in the middle of the forest to get answers because he didn’t trust anyone, and how he took two of his niblings because they insisted on coming with him.

And then only one of them came back.

To say Emma-May was already fed up with the day so far would be an understatement. And it had just gone lunchtime. Especially because the boys were arguing.

“It wasn’t his fault.” Dipper said in Ford's defense, “There was a Manotaur Stampede and Wendy told Uncle Ford to go up the rope first before her! I swear she started to climb the rope right after him!”

“And why in tarnation did you not insist she go first?!” Fiddleford exclaimed, “You are an adult, and they are children! Their safety is in your hands! You are responsible for them! And I-”

Emma-May cleared her throat. Everyone stopped and turned to stare at her. She kept her gaze firmly on the young boy by Fords side.

“Dipper, was it?” She said kindly, “I’m Emma-May, Fiddlefords wife. Could I ask a question?”

Dipper shuffled on his feet but nodded.

“Do you know why your sister insisted on Ford going up the rope first?” she asked firmly, “If you know, of course.”

Dipper hesitated, shuffling his feet again and adjusting his hat.

“We… we always had trouble with money, I guess, growing up with Dad.” he started, speaking slowly, “I- I guess he tried his best you know? He might have been rough around the edges, making jokes at… well, mostly my expense, but it was to keep us all… happy. So we didn’t realise how… little we had. He even started skipping meals, trying to give us enough food so we could grow up… healthier I guess? So we wouldn’t be malnourished. He tried to… tried to keep it from us, but Wendy always knew.”

“Yeah.” Mabel piped up sadly from the other side of the room, next to Tate, “I mean… she got really angry at him when that happened. She would yell at him, then not talk to him for the next couple of days. I- she’d cry a lot too.”

“She was super worried about Dad.” Soos said quietly, “Especially when he tried to look after us at the expense of himself.”

“She’d try to get him to eat with us, instead of skipping meals like he always did. She tied him to a chair once to make him eat.” Dipper continued miserably. 

The adults all stared at the kids in horror. Ford at least looked ashen, his mouth pressed into a thin line, and Fiddlefords eyes had widened significantly.

Emma-May didn’t know what to think. She- she suspected something like this but…

She wanted to be angry at Stanley for not looking after himself properly, especially with children but… she knew deep down she would have done the same. If she didn’t have enough money to sustain herself and Tate… she’d give him as much as she could spare as well.

She couldn’t imagine having to do that with four children. She remembered seeing the campervan parked out in front of the house. It looked old, but well used. A little too well used. Emma-Mays frown deepened.

Fiddleford had suspected they were homeless. They hadn’t said anything about their home, but after that statement… She knew it was true. These poor kids, these four wonderful children had spent their lives living inside a tiny campervan that was much too small for all of them.

“Children,” Emma-May said, “I think there are some things that us adults need to discuss. I think it would be best if you went into the other room. We won’t be long.”

The kids all glanced at each other, but filed out of the room almost silently.

Emma-May got up quietly and glared at both men.

“What were you two thinking, exactly?” she said, calmly, dangerously, “If you are going to argue, do it discreetly, Fiddleford! Or at least check to see if the kids are alright first. And Stanford, while I’m not saying that it was all your fault, you need to show more authority! Especially situations like you found yourself in. Fiddleford is right, you are an adult! You should have taken control of the situation instead of just letting Wendy order you around like that!”

“She can be extremely assertive and terrifying though.” Ford muttered under his breath.

Emma-May raised a brow.

“Assertive and terrifying?” she asked, “Really? A sixteen year old girl?”

“You haven’t met her!” Ford whined like a little child.

Emma-May took a deep breath in.

“You two are acting like children. You know what, scratch that, those children are better behaved than the two of you. Grow. Up.” she snapped at them. The two began arguing - blaming each other - but she quickly silenced the both of them with a glare, “You two are insufferable. But you are going to have to work together to try and get Wendy back - and before you say anything, Fiddleford, about this not being your fault, you still need to help him because you are his friend and that is what friends do. Got it?”

Both men grumbled like little children after being told off for eating too many sweets.

“Good. Now, what is the plan to get Wendy back?”

………

“...Your big sister really did that?” Tate asked Mabel when the kids entered the living room, “She tied your dad to a chair to get him to eat?”

“Yeah.” Mabel said glumly, “I don’t think dads very good at looking after himself.”

“Oh.” Tate said, not knowing what else to say. 

They sat in an awkward and sad silence for a couple of minutes.

“D-do you think Wendy is going to be ok?” Dipper asked nervously, “I mean, me and Uncle Ford tried to look for her. But we couldn’t find anything.”

“I’m sure she is, little dude.” Soos said, with a strained smile, “Wendy is as tough as nails remember. And she’s lived in the woods before, remember? She’s gonna be fine.”

“But what if she isn’t!” Dipper snapped, making Tate flinch in his seat, “You said the same thing about Dad the other day, and now look! He’s been caught by some really bad people and-and-”

Dipper started to hyperventilate. Mabel jumped out of her seat quickly and ran over to him, calling his name. Soos did the same, and soon all three siblings were huddled together, two of them trying to calm Dipper down. Soos instructed him to do breathing exercises, while Mabel rubbed his back to try and sooth him. Waddles, who had been quietly shuffling around on the other side of the room suddenly squealed and ran over to the siblings, planing himself by Dippers feet.

Tate watched on in stunned silence, not sure what else to do. He was still confused about the whole thing. He barely knew what was going on, but sitting here suddenly felt like an intrusion of privacy. 

His mother had always told him, when he complained about his father not being with them like he used to, that he was luckier than a lot of other children. He still had two parents, even if it didn’t feel like it sometimes. He had a nice home, three meals a day and went to school. 

His mother said that some people didn’t have both parents, or even one. She told him that some children don’t live in houses, and they don’t always have enough to eat.

He’d always thought that that was one of the ways parents got their kids to do stuff, but now, seeing Soos and Mabel and Dipper…

They weren’t as lucky as him, were they? It had just been what mum had said. Some kids don’t have a lot in life, and he was lucky.

He could really see that now.

“Yes, well done, you’re doing great dude.” Soos was saying, “deep breaths in. What is one thing you can taste?”

“P-pancakes.” Dipper said softly, almost too quiet for Tate to hear.

“You feeling better now dude?” Soos asked. Dipper nodded in his arms.

“Soos is right, though Dipdip.” Mabel said quietly, “Dad and Wendy are going to be ok! Or I’ll set Waddles onto them! For hugs!”

“Um,” Tate said, “I think they're right. Your dad and sister sound awesome and tough, I think they sound like they can handle anything! Really, the Manotaurs and whoever has your dad should be scared of them! And besides, dad and Dr. Pines are gonna go help rescue them. And they’re super smart! they’ll know exactly what to do!”

Mabel and Soos smiled at him.

“Yeah, Tates right dawg.” Soos said to Dipper, “Uncle Ford and Fidds are going to help rescue them! There’s no way they can fail! They’re going to be like the Question , with awesome sleuthing skills and detective work! They are as good as rescued already!”

Dipper made a small noise, and clung onto Waddles more tightly. Mabel smiled at Tate, and gestured for him to come into the hug. He smiled softly at her, and compiled, and all four kids huddled together in the middle of the living room.

And somehow, with this small gesture, Tate knew that everything was going to be alright.

Chapter Text

“Absolutely not.” Ford said, as he grabbed his crossbow, being filled with a sense of Daja vu. 

“Yes.” Mabel said stubbornly, “Wendy is our big sister! We need to go rescue her.”

Ford sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“The last time I let some of you kids come with me, I lost one of you. You cannot come with us. I cannot guarantee your safety in the forest.” Ford said sternly.

Mabel pouted.

“But Wendy needs our help!” She said, “And we are family! We all need to go save her together!”

“No means no Mabel.” Ford reiterated.

“Well, maybe if you had taken all of us with you earlier, this wouldn’t have happened!” Mabel said, “We might have been able to get ahead of the manotaurs or something!”

Ford closed his eyes and counted to ten.

He had to force himself not to snap at her.

“And what could you have done exactly?” he asked her, “If you had been there, I would have probably lost half of you.”

“You don’t know that!” Mabel argued, “Maybe I could have thought of a really cool, awesome way of getting us out of there, and you would all go ‘thank you Mabel, for that awesome cool plan, that saved all of us from the Manotaurs’ and I would have said ‘thanks! I couldn’t have done it without you all!’ and then we would have all gone to save Dad but quicker!”

Ford raised a brow at her.

“...Right…” he said, thinking it best not to argue with someone who stubbornly refused to admit how wrong they were.

“See?! So let me come with you!” she said, her eyes shining with hope.

“Mabel…” he said, then hesitated. She looked so, so hopeful. How was he supposed to say no to that? Especially… especially after…

He’d just found out Stan hadn’t been looking after himself. At least not properly. For some reason, his chest tightened at the thought. He supposed it brought back a few memories. At least… something like that.

There was a time in their teen years when Stanley started getting… distant. When he’d be quieter and stay in his room a lot more. Sometimes he would skip meals, but not too often to arouse concern. Ford had tried asking Stanley what was wrong a couple of times, but his brother had just smirked and said something along the lines of ‘ Just thinking Poindexter, you're not the only one of us who can use their brains ’ and then proceed to tease him about whatever he had been working on.

Was… did Stanley's old habits come back? Had they worsened?

Honestly, knowing this made Ford feel angry. Why didn’t Stanley just get a normal job to sustain his family? So that they could have an actual house instead of having to live in a campervan, so that they could have enough food to eat? Did he just not think of that or something? Maybe if he had just looked for a respectable job like a normal person none of this nightmare would have happened. He wouldn’t have then gotten caught up with the Mafia, and his kids would be safe, and have a normal life.

But knowing the way that these kids had lived, had been living the entire time that they had been with Ford's irresponsible brother… it became harder to say no.

Luckily he didn’t have to.

“Mabel, Honey,” Emma-May said, having just come to the room, “Your uncle is right, it's too dangerous for you and your siblings to go with us to rescue your sister. It would be for the best if you stayed behind.”

Mabel glared at her.

“That's just what Dad said, and now he’s in trouble!” she said, a hint of anger in her voice, “He said it was better for us to hide away, and now look! You need us to help rescue Wendy. Dipper is super smart, Soos is super strong and I’m super creative. Those are our superpowers! You need us!”

Emma-May grimaced.

“I’m sure you would all make great superheroes.” she agreed, “But when you are older. Right now, you are all too young to be superheroes.”

“But we can still be sidekicks! Soos said that Robin was only nine years old when he became a sidekick! And I’m almost eleven! That's two whole years younger than me! We can help!”

“And what about Tate?” Emma-May tried to reason, “Who’s going to look after him if we let you all go with us?”

Mabel thought about it for a beat before smiling brightly at her.

“Tate could come too! Wendy is usually the fighter, but he can take her place in the superhero team!”

Ford almost gaped. What kind of logic was that? Did she understand how unreasonable that was? It was mind boggling how ridiculous she sounded. He was going to tell her so, but Emma-May must have noticed since she gave him a look, that reminded him of a certain red-headed teen that he needed to rescue.

Ford thought better of it and shut his mouth.

“Honey, it's still too dangerous for you.” she continued telling Mabel, brushing a strand of curly hair from her eye, “And what if you also get into trouble? That happens to a lot of superheroes too doesn’t it? I'm just saying that it would be better if you were all safe. And then we’ll be able to save your father quicker, don’t you think?”

Mabel frowned, and looked down.

“Ok. But only because Dad might get into worse trouble.” she said softly.

“Ok hon, I’ll take it.” she said, “Go find the others. We’ll be back by tomorrow morning at the latest.”

Mabel looked up and ran off without another word.

“...You're good with kids.” Ford stated simply.

Emma-May blinked at him. 

“That's because I have a son.” she said.

“Oh… right.”

“So, you got everything we need. Fidds is all packed and ready, and so am I.”

“Y-yes, I am ready. We can go now.”

Emma-May smiled at him, and walked out of the room: an invitation for him to follow. They met Zeus at the door who smiled at them and wished them luck.

Ford scoffed. He didn’t need luck.

He had his intellect.

…….

It was early evening when the three adults finally made it to the cave of the manotaurs, and the sky was painted a brilliant array of sunset colours. They peered over the rock they were hiding behind, watching as two gigantic body guards stood outside the cave while some kind of celebration(?) took place inside. 

“How are we supposed to get in?” Emma-May asked from Fords right.

“Wait, your suggestion’ we try our luck in there?” Fiddleford whisper-shouted from Fords left, “Those Manotaurs could snap us like twigs! And how do we know that Wendy was taken here? Maybe she’s somewhere else!”

“We don’t.” Ford said, “But maybe one of them noticed something. Maybe they know where she might be.”

“This is going to get us all killed.” Fiddleford said miserably.

“With that attitude maybe.” Emma-May whispered under her breath, before turning to Ford, “What's the plan then? Sneak past them? If they’re like any man I know, they probably wouldn’t think that anyone would think of that. We could catch them by surprise and gather some intel.”

“I think the best course of action would be to just walk in.” Ford said.

“Stanferd, I thought you were supposed te be smart.” Fiddleford hissed, “In what dimension do ya think that’ll ever work?! You're out of your mind!”

“I know. I’ve observed these creatures as a part of my research into Gravity Falls, remember?” Ford said, “These guys might be tough, but they aren’t very smart. I think if we just went over there and acted all tough, they might just let us in.”

Emma-May frowned.

“Not as exciting, but I’ll take it.” Emma-May said, readying her bat that she had brought as a weapon and preparing to leap out and charge. Ford grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back.

“I think it would be best if just me and Fiddleford go.” he whispered, earning a spluttered protest from his research partener.

“What? I’m the toughest out of the three of us!” Emma-May whispered, “I should go in by myself!”

“Yes, but… well, these guys might not think you are tough, no matter what you do.” Ford pointed out. Emma-May gave him a look.

“Is it because I’m a girl or something?”

“Precisely.” Ford said, but one look towards Emma-May's face made him backtrack, “I mean, I’m not saying that you are not tough, I mean you are, well, absolutely terrifying, I’m sure you could take on at least… um… two of these Manotaurs, but, well, they don’t know that… heh.”

Emma-May raised a brow.

“Fine. You two go ahead. I’ll wait here to bail you out when this plan fails.” she grumbled, slipping down the rock.

“Alright then, come on Fiddleford.” Ford said, jumping over the rock. Fiddleford grumbled behind him but walked after Ford. he was hunched over and muttering under his breath about how bad of an idea this was. “You need to stop slouching Fiddleford.”

“Why?!” his roommate hissed back, “Even if I stand up straight, I’m still a twig! I cannot pass for someone tough!”

“Come on Fiddleford, at least put some effort in.” Ford scolded.

Fiddleford grumbled some more but walked a little straighter. The pair approached the Manotaur guards slowly, with Ford exaggerating his walk to make himself look tough. The guards both watched them carefully as they came closer.

Just before Ford and Fiddleford could enter, they raised their arms to block the path, and no matter what the author claims, Ford did not flinch. Did. Not. Flinch.

“Who are you?” One of the guards asked.

“We are two researchers,” Ford explained, with a strained smile, “And um, we have come to… go through the trials to become real men. For… um… research?”

It was a terrible lie, and Ford knew it. He’d never been good at lying. It was one of the only things Stanley was better at than him.

The lie was so bad in fact that even the manotaurs, who had the brains of a soaking wet rock looked skeptical. 

“Did you get an invite?” the other manotaur asked. 

“Um… no?” Ford said, seeing his research partener slap his forehead from the corner of his eye, “I, er, lost it? Y-you know, on the way here when we… um… stopped at the gym?”

Both Manotaurs glanced at each other. 

“...Did you bring the guest list for the New Kings party?” the one on the left asked.

“I, um… I think I left it at the gym.” the one on the right said. 

Ford and Fiddleford blinked at each other. Did that… work?

“What do you mean, you left it behind at the gym?”

“I was flexing for some of the fairies that came to watch us…” the other grumbled, “Where's yours?”

“New King only gave us one! And you were supposed to look after it!”

The other manotaur grumbled something under his breath. His friend turned back to the two men who were trying their best not to breathe. He squinted at them.

“Fine, we’ll clear this up with the New King.” He said finally, “It's his party after all.”

He gestured for Ford and Fiddleford to follow, and stepped deeper into the cave. The pair looked at each other with quizzical looks, and followed after him.

Inside the cave there, it smelled like sweat and testosterone. The manotaurs were drinking, arm wrestling and full on fighting. Fiddleford shrunk back, trying to make himself look small, while Ford looked around with morbid fascination. The manotaur who had become their escort walked over to a particularly large group of manotaurs who were all chanting and growling in excitement.

Their escort stopped and looked down at them.

“New King is currently fighting some of the other manotaurs.” He informed them, “You’ll have to wait.”

Ford bristled.

“We don’t have time to wait!” he snapped, “We are in a bit of a hurry.”

The manotaur raised an eyebrow.

“I thought that you wanted to learn how to be a man.” the manotaur said, with a sly grin.

Ford quickly backtracked. “I mean, I’m - we’re - just in a hurry to um, see theres-”

“Don’t try lying.” The Manotaur said, “Not all of us are brain dead you know.”

Ford shut his mouth.

Suddenly the circle in front of them broke, quickly, as a massive manotaur fell down in front of them. Ford fell backwards (he Did Not yelp) narrowly avoiding the giant creature's path.

Ford looked up and-

His brain completely short circuited.

Crouching on top of the massive creature, a triumphant smirk on her face, was none other than Wendy.

Chapter Text

Wendy grinned as she looked up, the rest of the Manotaurs erupted in cheers. She stood up - over the now unconscious Manotaur, hand on her hip, the other resting an axe over her shoulder. She was barefoot, wearing war paint and her turquoise plaid overshirt wrapped around her waist, with Stanley’s jacket over a slightly dirty tank top. Her ripped jeans sported a couple more new holes and were slightly dirtier than what Ford last saw of her. 

He gaped at her.

And that's when she noticed him. She blinked, and did a double take.

“Stan 2?” she said, “Dude, what are you doing here?”

“Wendy?!” Fiddleford said, from behind Ford, drawing the redheads attention, “Wha- are you- how?”

“Oh, you didn’t hear?” she said with a smirk, while all the other manotaurs looked on, “I’m the New King of the Manotaurs! ISN’T THAT RIGHT GUYS!”

Ford had to rush to cover his ears with his hands just as the other manotaurs started to bellow and cheer, praising their ‘New King’. Wendy’s grin widened, and she reached her axe towards the sky, yelling a battle cry, which the rest of the manotaurs reciprocated with their own chants. They all sounded like one lovestruck walrus, yelling towards another lovestruck walrus a few icebergs over. The pain it brought Ford's ears was insurmountable. He felt like they would start to bleed if the noise was only one octave louder.

Thankfully the Manotaurs soon stopped their yelling completely after a couple of seconds, and proceeded to stare at the humans as if they were watching an interesting show. Wendy looked triumphant as she stepped down from the giant Manotaurs head towards Ford, reaching out a hand to help him up. Ford looked between her and her hand, but ultimately decided that getting help up was better than just staying on the floor. Once he was back up on his two feet, Wendy turned back to the Manotaurs.

“What are you all looking at?” she asked, not mockingly, “I thought you guys wanted a Manly party! Let's get it going on!”

The other Manotaurs yelled again and resumed their party, with some kind of rock and roll and heavy metal mix that was coming from… somewhere.

“Ok, what in tarnation is going on here?” Fiddleford demanded, “I mean, we all thought ya were injured and needed rescuing! But instead ya manage to get these dangerous creatures to call you their ‘New King’ and you’re having a party! If you were ok, why didn’t ya come find us?” 

Wendy shrugged.

“These guys wanted a party.” she said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, “Come on, I know you probably have some questions, so why don’t we go somewhere quiet? These guys can get pretty loud when they are partying. Hey Brutus, you think you can help us get back to my quarters? I wanna talk with these dudes, alone.”

Their escort - Brutus apparently - grunted, and managed to elbow his way through the crowd of Manotaurs, the three humans trailing behind. As they passed the crowd, Wendy greeted some of the Manotaurs individually.

“Hey, Denzel, great dance moves dude.”

“12 pint already, Maximus?”

“What's up Emeric?”

Fiddleford and Ford exchanged a look. How had this girl done so much in the few hours that she had disappeared? She was acting like she knew every Manotaur personally, greeting them as if they were old friends.

Ford had tried to get closer to the Manotaurs in the past, always with varying results. As soon as he had found out that the Manotaurs were actually a sentient species, he was thrilled! Maybe they knew the origins of all the weirdness in Gravity Falls. Maybe they could show him or teach him about more of the anomalies of Gravity Falls.

Unfortunately, the Manotaurs were very self centered animals, Ford found. They were more concerned with showing off their skills and strength than helping out a Researcher who was trying to study them. If Ford managed to get one's attention, and that was a big if, they would just try to show off, or tell him stories about their ‘Great Feats of Manliness’, or ask if he was their new spotter for the gym.

Ford had eventually given up on this fruitless endeavor, to ask some other sentient creatures in the forest.

But Wendy… she seemed to not only have gotten the Manotaurs to listen, but to also gained their respect. She had somehow managed to do in hours, what Ford couldn’t accomplish in months of research. How? Ford wanted to know. He had so many questions for her. But at the moment, they had more pressing matters to discuss.

Brutus led the humans to a smaller cave a little ways away from the cavern where the Manotaurs were having their party. It was still large: big enough for at least ten Manotaurs to fit comfortably inside, with gym equipment in one corner, made of rocks, thick tree branches and some old rope. The other side had a stone bed, surrounded by cave paintings of previous manotaurs and what appeared to be great feats of strength, alongside giant handprints with dripping paint still dried onto the stone wall. The entire cave seemed to be illuminated by a species of glowing mushroom, scattered around and emitting a turquoise and pale purple light.

Ford was mesmerised. He had seen this particular species before around the forest, but not in such large quantities as this cave. He and Fiddleford stepped inside the cave after Wendy, with Brutus standing guard in front of the entrance. Wendy sauntered over 

to the stone bed and sad down cross legged, her hands gripping her feet.

“Welcome to my new room.” she said with a smile, “I mean, when I decide to stay over. The Manotaurs wanted me to stay permanently, but after I explained to them about my situation, they said I can come to stay over whenever I please.”

“They gave you a room here?” Fiddleford asked.

“Well, yeah. I just became their New King, so I got the royal bedroom I guess.”

“So… you’re ok? You’re not injured or anything?” Ford asked.

“Well, no. Just a couple of scrapes and bruises, but that's normal after brawling a couple Manotaurs, and the multibear.”

“You fought the Multibear?!” Fiddleford yelped.

“Yeah. And guess who won.” Wendy grinned, pointing at herself with both hands. 

Ford blinked at her.

“...Ok, ya know what, ya can tell us about that later.” Fiddleford said, “Right now, can ya tell us exactly what happened to you? We were all mighty worried that something bad happened.”

“Oh, right,” Wendy said, “Well, as I was trying to climb up the rope after Stan 2, but I slipped a bit and the rope almost got pulled out. I knew I was going to fall into the Manotaurs, so I jumped down and made sure I landed on one of their heads, so I wouldn’t get trampled. They ran for a while before Brutus realized I was on his horns and he helped me down.”

“That's… surprisingly nice of a Manotaur.” Ford said, “I mean, from what I have seen, they aren’t exactly gentle giants.”

Wendy snorted.

“You really don’t know much about them do you?” she smirked, “They are obsessed with being ‘Manly’ and honestly, what's more manly than chivalry? Helping a damsel in distress? They were all fighting to be a gentleman to me. We talked a bit, and they told me about how they were all training for a tournament to become the new king, after the death of the last one. They said that I could watch if I wanted to, but I just asked if I could participate. I thought, maybe it would be useful to get an army of our own so we could get Dad back. They laughed, so I asked if they were scared that they would lose to a girl, and so they agreed. And naturally I won every one, and now I’m their new King. So… yeah. That, thats what happened.”

Ford and Fiddleford both stared at her in disbelief.

“Wendy… you know that was extremely dangerous right?” Ford said after he found his voice again, “You could have gotten seriously hurt. I don’t know what my brother taught you but-”

“Ugh, will you stop blaming dad for everything?!” Wendy snapped, her face morphing into anger, “You have done nothing but think the worst of him!”

“Well, maybe if he had taught you better, you might give your wellbeing a little more thought! Participating in a tournament to become the King of the Manotaurs against a bunch of dangerous creatures is extremely careless and you could have been in a lot of danger!”

“Well I wasn’t ok? This was not the hardest thing I’ve had to do in my life. Besides, now we have an army, and we can go rescue Dad.”

“We don’t need them!” Ford snapped back, “You can trust me to get him back.”

“Trust you?” Wendy scoffed, “Do you really expect me to trust you? After how you bad-mouthed dad and belittled him? He's your twin and you don’t care!”

“I do care! And even if that wasn’t true, that still does not take away from the fact that you needlessly put yourself in danger! You could have been killed!”

“Well, I wasn’t! And I’m perfectly ok, aren’t I?”

Ford was about to yell back at her when-

“SHUT YOUR MOUTHS THE BOTH OF YOU!” Fiddleford screamed at them.

Both Wendy and Ford’s gaze snapped back to Ford's research partener. He looked very angry.

“You two are wastin’ precious time when we could be discussing other matters!” Fiddleford said sternly, “Wendy, what you did was reckless and dangerous, but Ford, we shouldn’t be dwelling on that, Wendy is right she is perfectly fine and now she has an army… I’m still not entirely sure what I feel about that fact, but it happened, and we are wasting precious time, time your brother and your father doesn’t have!”

Ford looked away, resentfully. He clenched his fists by his side.

“Wendy, we need to get you back home.” Fiddleford said, “When is the earliest you can leave.”

“I can leave at any time dude.” Wendy said, “I’m the new king. I can do whatever I want.”

“Ok, so we need to get back to the house. We need to come up with some plans to get your father back.”

“Yeah, I know. Lets just… lemme just ask Brutus to get a few Manotaurs who are willing to come help us get dad back, then we can go.”

“Ok, kiddo, you go do that, and then we leave. We’ll need to update my wife Emma-May on the situation, um… yeah, she’s here too.”

“Oh, alright.” Wendy said, “I’ll get right on that. See you dudes in a minute.”

And with that, she ran out of the cave to talk to Brutus.

Ford and Fiddleford exchanged a glance. Fords former roommate was looking at him with an almost furious expression, mixed in with a little bit of ‘We’ll talk about this later’.

Ford swallowed hard.

……..

“So… I stayed out there for nothing then?” Was Emma-Mays first words after Ford and FiddleFord explained the situation.

“What do you mean? It was still dangerous.” Ford argued.

Emma-May raised a brow.

“You said I couldn’t come because the Manotaurs are misogynistic, and they wouldn't accept me, and yet Wendy is now apparently their ‘New King’ whatever that means.”

Ford blinked owlishly. He… he did say that didn't he?

“Well, I may have been… incorrect… with my assumptions… this time .” Ford said, “But that's not the point. I just don’t want you to be alarmed at the fact that we’ll be joined by the Manotaurs. Wendy’s getting a few that want to help us save Stanley. She’ll be out shortly.”

Emma-May huffed.

A couple of minutes later, Wendy stepped through the entrance of the Cave, and was quickly followed by five huge manotaurs. She sauntered up to the adults, a lopsided smirk on her face.

“Here's the cavalry.” She said, “This is of course Brutus, Skullcrusher, Kedar, Everett and… Steve.”

“...Steve?” Ford asked, incredulous.

Wendy smiled at him.

“You gotta problem with that?” she asked.

Ford opened his mouth then closed it.

“You must be Wendy.” Emma-May said, “I’m Emma-May, Fiddlefords wife. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Wendy looked Emma-May up and down.

“Nice to meet you too.” she said, though Ford could see some glint in her eye. 

“We should get going. It's already dark, and you do not want to know what comes out at night.”

“Scared little man?” Brutus asked, making the other Manotaurs snicker.

“...Lets just go.” Ford said, starting in the direction of the house. The others followed closely behind, and Ford heard the Manotaurs asking Emma-May if she was tired or needed anything. She declined politely and talked to them the entire way back to the house.

However, when Ford set eyes on the house, he paled.

Chapter Text

When Wendy saw the house, she froze. The outside was ransacked, and the door was half on its hinges, falling apart on the front porch.

She only hesitated for a second, and then she ran full speed towards the house.

Uncle Ford called out to her to stop, to come back, but she didn't stop. She could hear Brutus running after her, the manotaurs heavy feet like the echo of her beating heart. She reached the door in seconds, and rushed in, unsheathing her axe in case anyone was still inside.

“SOOS! DIPPER! MABEL!” she called out, taking in the destruction inside. It was worse than the outside. The sofa had been ripped, the remnants of pillow cases all around the floor, her Uncle's books and vials of different strange liquids all shattered and lying in messy piles.

Wendy carefully stepped over the debris, careful not to step onto any pieces of broken glass. She could vaguely hear Brutus coming up behind her, squeezing through the narrow doorway, and the sound of his heavy breathing, but she paid him no mind. She scanned the room, looking for any traces of her siblings, any sign of life.

“I can smell humans.” Burtus said, finally turning Wendy's attention away from the destruction.

“What do you mean?” Wendy asked.

“Some of them are strangers.” the Manotaur continued, “They smell like fire and… some other strange smell that I haven't smelled before. But there were others here, I can still smell them well. They are kin. Your kin.”

Wendys eyes widened. 

“Show me.” she demanded, “Can you take me to them?”

Brutus nodded and led the way through the house. Wendy followed after, her eyes continuing to look for any sign of life. They walked past the kitchen, and found themselves in another room that Wendy had never seen before. It looked like it had been for storage, even though now it was ransacked like the rest of the house. Cardboard boxes were ripped apart on the floor, while metal crates and cages were dented and bent out of shape.

Brutus paused for a minute, looking down at all the cages for a split second before making his way to a conspicuous looking wall. He sniffed at it, before feeling around it, and then pulling out a secret door with a small tug. Wendy looked down at it in shock. Was that a… basement? Why would her Uncle have a basement?

Brutus carefully placed the door on the wall and looked towards her with an inviting look. Wendy steeled herself, adjusting her grip on her axe before taking a deep breath and walking down the stairs. The staircase was dark and dusty, with tiny flickering lights on the sides of the walls. As they went deeper and deeper into the ground, the light from behind the entrance became increasingly smaller and smaller. It became much, much harder to see, with the side lights barely giving Wendy much of a view. Every footstep echoed as she made her way down.

She kept on blinking, willing her eyes to adjust, but also trying to keep out the dust. There was so much dust under here. Why was there so much dust? Did Uncle Ford not go down here too often? Whyn make a basement in the first place if you weren't going to use it?

The only solace in this place was the heavy breathing and footsteps from Brutus behind her. He would protect her - even though she didn’t really need it - no matter what happened. He was a good backup.

Soon, the stairs finished their descent. Wendy felt her footsteps pass the threshold of a giant room. The air felt colder, the floor felt rougher. But there was a light. A small flickering light that shone on the other side of the room. Wendy walked towards it, gripping her axe with more determination. Brutus followed behind.

When she got closer to the lamp, a small voice piped up from the darkness.

“...Wendy?” 

Wendy's shoulders sagged from relief. 

“Dipper.” she breathed, “You’re alright.”

The small form of her brother emerged from the darkness, and he launched himself at her legs. Wendy dropped the axe by her side and embraced him. He was trembling slightly, fear radiating off him.

“What’s wrong Dipper, what happened?” she asked him.

“The men who took D-Dad came to the house,” he said softly, Wendy stiffened, “They were going to catch us, but then Waddles found the basement. We all got inside but we could still hear everyone trashing the house.”

“Are the others safe too?” Wendy asked.

“Yeah.” Dipper said, peeling away from his sister's legs, “They’re all just hiding deeper into the bunker. I came up to see if any of you… came…”

Dipper's gaze was now pinned onto Brutus, who was probably regarding the pair with curiosity.

“Wendy,” Dipper whispered, “Don’t look now, but I think there might be a monster behind you…”

“Oh, Brutus? Don't worry about him Dude, he’s with me.” Wendy said. Her brother gave her a skeptical look, but didn’t say anything else. Wendy sighed, “Are the others ok?”

“Mostly…” Dipper said, averting his gaze.

“Mostly?” Wendy said, raising a brow in an attempt to stop him from seeing how terrified that statement made her.

Dipper bit his lip.

“Soos… one of the men tried to grab Mabel, but um, he ran into him to be get his grip off her… but…” Dipper hesitated.

“But what?” This time, Wendys voice cracked a little bit with worry and frustration on how her brother seemed to not want to say what happened.

Dipper looked up at her, fiddling with his fingers.

“...He had a knife,” he said, barely above a whisper. His eyes widened at seeing her mortified expression, and he quickly backtracked, “I mean, he’s fine now! The knife didn’t hit anything vital… just his arm.”

“His arm?” Wendy asked.

“Um, yeah.” Dipper continued, “It wasn’t a stab wound or anything, and we managed to stop the bleeding a while ago, but um… there was a lot… not too much! I mean, we didn’t need to have a blood transfusion or stitches or anything! Not that we have the equipment for anything like that down here, other than stitches but none of us know how to do those, there are enough medical supplies to last for a century, but um, there was still quite a bit - again not too much - but enough to be everywhere and, and-”

“Whoa dude!” Wendy said, placing a hand on her brother's shoulder, “You need to slow down bro! Just- just tell me how he is now. You don’t need to go into specifics or anything. Just… important things, yeah? Keep it simple. Take a deep breath in, and a deep breath out. Can you do that for me?”

Dipper nodded, and tried to breathe in deeper. Wendy placed one hand on his chest and the other on her own, and got him to slowly match her breathing.

A couple of minutes later, Dipper was much less flustered, and Wendy gestured to him to carry on.

“Soos is resting now.” Dipper said, “Mabel, Waddles and Tate are watching over him. Um, he’s Fidds and Emma-Mays' kid. We managed to bandage his arm enough so it doesn’t bleed out, not that it is anymore! But now he’s asleep.”

“Ok.” Wendy said, “Take us to him.”

Dipper nodded, and turned back into the darkness. Wendy grabbed the flickering light, which turned out to be a small handheld lamp, and followed after her little brother.

He led the pair towards a narrow corridor lined with storage boxes and other kinds of junk. Brutus couldn’t go through the passageway, but agreed to stand guard right outside ‘in case those blasted men came back’. Wendy left him with a nod and continued on. The passageway soon came to a stop, and Dipper walked over to a light switch, turning it on.

Wendy had to shield her eyes from the blinding light. She blinked slowly for a couple of seconds, trying to let her eyes adjust.

“Mabel?” Dipper was saying as Wendy tried to blink away the dancing forms in her eyes.

“Here Dipper!” Mabel's voice rang out, making Wendy's shoulders sag slightly in relief, “Did you find… Wendy? Wendy!”

Wendy let out an ‘oof’ as her little sister practically catapulted into her legs, holding on with an iron grip.

“Mabel!” she said, “You’re ok.”

“It was really scary without you.” Mabel's voice was slightly muffled from her face planted into Wendy's leg. She gave a little tremor, “There were so many of them, Wendy. They- they were making so much noise and then S-Soos was hurt be-because I didn’t get out of the way on time, and, and…”

“Shh, its ok dude, I’m here now, and we can go and kick their butts.” Wendy reassured her, trying to smile through the worry, the fear, the anger she was feeling at the moment, “I have an army now. We’re going to get dad back no matter what.”

“P-promise?” Mabel said, looking up. Wendy felt her heart break a little bit. Her little sister was crying.

“I promise.” Wendy said, with as much conviction as she could muster. She even smiled a little, trying to seem genuine. She didn’t know if it actually worked, but Mabel smiled softly back.

It made Wendy feel only a little better.

“Wheres Soos now?” she asked, “Can you take me to him?”

Mabel nodded wordlessly and lead Wendy into another one of the rooms. Soos was lying down on a makeshift camping bed, fast asleep. He was being watched over by Waddles and a small kid who looked a little younger than Mabel and Dipper. As soon as the family pig set eyes on Wendy, he squealed and ran towards her, nosing into her leg. The boy looked up, startled.

Wendy almost laughed. Even if Dipper had not said who this was, it was pretty obvious that he was Fiddleford and Emma-May’s son. He had his fathers nose, and expression, but his mothers hair colour and eyes.

“Are you Wendy?” he asked.

“Yeah. Is he ok?”

“He’s just sleeping.” Tate said, “Me, Mabel and Waddles have been looking after him.”

“Can I check his bandages?”

The kid nodded, and stepped to the side, allowing Wendy to go up to her brother's arm. The entire arm was bandaged, probably the work of three spooked little kids in a panic, she thought drily. She inspected Soos’s arm, finding a patch of red under his bicep. It wasn't too big, thankfully, and did not seem to be getting any bigger. Wendy felt her brother's forehead, grimacing when she found that it was slightly too warm. He didn't quite have a fever, but with the inflammation and the bloodloss, that was probably normal.

Probably.

While Wendy still had her hand on Soos’s forehead, the boy in question stirred and opened his eyes, blinking owlishly at his sister.

“...Wendy?” he slurred quietly, slightly delirious.

“Yeah, its me dude.” Wendy said with a small smile, “You’re gonna be ok. We’re all here with you.”

“Soos smiled, before bringing his arms around Wendy, and pulling her into an awkward hug, with her half on top of him. Wendy smiled sadly and hugged him back.

“I didn't know if you were going to come back.” Soos whispered in Wendys ear, “I told the kids that you were always going to come back, but I didn't… I didn't know if you were gonna…”

“Its ok, I don't blame you.” she reassured him, in the same hushed tone, “It was… pretty scary actually, for myself. I wasn’t entirely sure if I was going to survive either.”

She slowly pulled out of the hug, and sighed.

“I guess we’d better get back up before the others start to worry.” she said, hesitating. She looked at Soos, “Do you think you can get up?”

Soos shrugged and tried to sit up. Tried, because as soon as he sat up he swayed slightly and would have fallen back down again if Wendy hadn’t grabbed him, flinging his arm over her shoulder.

“Woah, ok, slow down there bro. You’ve lost a bit of blood.” Wendy said, “I’m going to help you get to Brutus, and he can carry you up the stairs. You’re in no position to do this yourself.”

“Um, whos Brutus?” Tate asked.

“Oh, he’s just a friend I made while I was in the woods.” Wendy said, casually, “He and the other Manotaurs are now my very own army, ever since I became their new king.”

“What?” Mabel said, “You became the King?”

Wendy grinned at her.

“But, how?” Dipper asked, “You weren’t gone for that long!”

Wendy Grinned.

“I have my ways.” she said.

“Do you want to hear the story?”

Chapter Text

Wendy, wait!” Ford yelled, as his niece ran towards the house, “Whoever did this might still be here!”

Brutus was suddenly behind Ford. The Manotaur snorted, making Ford jump.

“I’ll go and protect her.” he said, “Not that she needs it. You and the other Manotaurs can look for whoever did this, if they ran. They might not have gotten far.”

Before anyone could say anything else or object, Brutus was already legging it towards the trashed house, entering the broken doorway.

“We need to go after them.” Emma-May said, as one of the Manotaurs blocked her path with a giant meaty arm, “They might still be in there! And if it is who I think it is, they will have firearms. Even brute strength can’t stand against that!”

“Who would it be?” Ford asked, genuinely confused, “I mean… the other creatures in this forest might not be completely peaceful, but just resorting to violence like this is unlike them.”

Emma-May gave him a look.

“It wasn’t the creatures of this forest.” she said, “Otherwise they would have tried to destroy your house years ago, if they didn't like it that much. Besides, the only creatures on this planet that are capable of that… that destruction are humans. Which means-”

“It was whoever took my brother.” Ford hissed, feeling a wave of anger rush over him. Without thinking he started to walk towards the house - though it was more like stomping over there - when he was suddenly lifted up in the air by two meaty hands that pinned his arms to his body.

“Let me go!” he yelled at the Manotaur.

“You need to calm down, Researcher.” the creature huffed, “You heard what Brutus said, we need to look for them.”

“Look for them?! They broke into MY HOUSE TO HURT MY FAMILY!!” Ford yelled, thrashing violently, though the Manotaur didn't seem too fazed, his grip unrelenting, “THEY’RE PROBABLY STILL IN THERE HURTING THEM! LET ME GO!”

“Maybe we should think about this before running into these kinds of situations.” Another one of the Manotaurs spoke up, “I’m surprised that you haven’t thought about this before, Researcher. I thought you were supposed to be smart.”

“Skullcrushers right.” the last Manotaur said, “Brutus will be able to take care of Wendy, and if your kin is still there, he will look after them. But it is most likely that they ran back into the forest. I can smell them.”

Ford stopped struggling and looked up at the Manotaur.

“...You can smell them?” he asked, fascinated.

“Their smell is very prominent.” the Manotaur holding Ford informed him, “Its unfamiliar, smoke and… something else I haven't smelled before. They smell evil.”

“They went that way.” the one holding Emma-May back said, pointing towards the forest.

Ford looked in that direction. He squinted. It was subtle, but he could only just faintly see things out of the ordinary. Sure, animals left footprints as they ventured through the forest, burning paths into the ground for their children after them to follow, but this… only humans could tread through such a peaceful forest and leave such destruction in their wake, so carelessly. Ford himself had to learn how to move around so as not to disturb the nature of Gravity Falls, to help with his studies of course, but it seemed that these people weren't even trying.

Even the manotaurs, as huge and as bulky as they may be, never left such devastation behind, even with their stampede. They had a way of moving so fluidly like water, leaving barely any damage in their wake.

But more than that, those men were the people who tried to hurt his niece and nephews (and Stanley).

They were going to pay.

“Let me go after them.” Ford seethed, “Let me go!”

The Manotaur, however, didn't let him go. Instead, he lifted him up into the air and placed Ford over his head, and onto his back. Ford blinked, slightly confused as his hands automatically gripped the creatures fur.

“Wha-”

“We’re faster than your scrawny little human legs, Researcher.” Manotaur said, “We are quicker. Those humans couldn't have gotten far.”

A second later, Fiddleford yelped, having been lifted up into the air by another Manotaur.

Emma-May gently pushed away one of the Manotaurs as they tried to do the same to her.

“I think I’d rather stay. If the kids need help then I should be with them.” She told them.

“I’ll stay behind with you then.” the Manotaur said, “Just in case they decided to double back.”

“I can fight them off myself, thank you very much.” Emma-May said sternly, crossing her arms.

The Manotaur looked skeptical.

“I don't doubt it,” he said, despite his obvious disdain, “But it is always good to have backup, just in case.”

Emma-May just sighed and shrugged. The Manotaur snorted and looked back at the rest of the group.

“You go take the Researcher and the Twig to find the humans who hurt the kin of the New King.”

“Twig?!” Fiddleford said incredulously, the indignant exclamation losing itself as the Manotaur surged forwards, causing Ford's college roommate to yelp out indignantly.

Ford was much more composed (not) when his ride started running into the forest. He did not cry out (yes, yes he did), but he did try to hold on with a stronger grip as they sped through the forest, weaving through trees.

After five minutes of them running, Ford felt positively sick. His body had been jostled and manhandled through the trek. Every time the Manotaurs jumped over something, he would only have a limited amount of time to get himself ready before it happened. He nearly fell off several times (A.N: pun intended), and at one point where the three of them stopped abruptly.

“What in Tarnation was that!” Fiddleford yelled, “You could warn a guy!”

The Manotaur he was riding immediately shushed him.

“They’re close Twig,” he said, “You’d better be quiet, unless you want the enemy alerted to our presence?”

Fiddleford blinked.

“They’re close by?” he said, thankfully in a much quieter voice.

“We need to use stealth now.” Fords ride said, “Any sudden noises could make them run, or attack. The element of surprise will really help us out here.”

“Maybe capturing one will help us to locate the New Kings father.” the other one said.

“That's exactly what I was thinking, Kedar. It might make our jobs easier.”

Ford was about to say that he had a list of locations for where his brother might end up, when his ride reached behind him to grab him and place him back onto the ground. 

He had a moment of dizziness, his legs feeling like jelly (how long had they been running for?)

“Steady now Researcher.” The manotaur said with a hint of amusement.

Ford just glared at him and walked forwards. Thankfully, his muscle memory reappeared and he was able to walk forwards without falling on his face and embarrassing himself. He followed the lead manotaur as they trekked a little more into the forest. That's when Ford began to hear voices.

They were faint at first, but pretty soon, he could make out their accent - some kind of south american? - and soon after that he could hear their voices.

“-I mean those damn kids.” one person said.

“Tell me about it.” another piped up, “I mean, clearly they had some help. Maybe being in this forest has messed them up or something. I mean- I haven’t been here long but I know this place is messed up.”

“ Dios mio , Jorge, are you still saying that you saw a gnome?” another voice added, “You might want to check your glasses amigo , creatures like that don’t exist.”

“I’m telling you, I saw it. It was just a little guy, with beard and a gnome hat, barely above my ankles. He was taking a bath with squirrels.”

“Are you sure you didn't take too much coke before we got here? You’re hallucinating Jorge.”

“Huh?”

“I wasn’t talking to you perezoso, I was talking to him.”

“Oh... What are we talking about again?”

“He was saying that he saw a Gnome having a bath in squirrels.”

“...He’s right you were hallucinating.”

“I’m telling you, I know what I saw! And you saw how the kids simply vanished after we ran them into that storage room. This entire forest gives me the creeps, its probably haunted or something.”

Ford paused. The storage room? Did that mean… they’d found the bunker. He felt a wave of relief wash over himself. If the kids found the bunker, they’d be safe, right? They had food supplies down there, enough to last for years.

Ford had originally planned on building the bunker deeper into the woods. However, as Fiddleford pointed out, if they were inside the house when the apocalypse happened, which was very likely, a bunker inside would be better for them to hide out in. This was one of those times when Ford realized why he and Fiddleford worked so well together; he could come up with ideas that rivaled his own, though that was a rare occurance. However, dispite this, they decided to build two bunkers that connected, just in case one of them was out, with a bunker deep into the forest. They had yet to build said bunker, though they had almost finished building the other one, right by Fords underground labratory.

If the kids had found thier way inside… while it wasnt the safest under construction, Ford decided that he’d rather them be inside there than out with people who would definately hurt them. They seemed responsible enough from what he had seen, and Tate himself had grown to be cautious like his father. Surely they would be alright down there, as long as they didnt touch any of the strange liquids Ford had found during his ventures…

Though, out of all of them, Mabel seemed to be the one most likely to touch something she wasnt supposed to in Fords opinion.

“Yeah, right, haunted.” one of the men laughed, “I’ll believe it when I see it.” 

There was a pause.

“What the heck are we going to tell Rico?” another one of them asked, “I mean, we didnt manage to take any of those kiddies. All we really did was turn that freaky house upside down.”

“I’m still not entirely sure why they would run there. I mean, that place is in the middle of nowhere, and probably belongs to some kind of mad scientist.”

“I wish I could tell you. But Jorges right, all we really managed to do was hurt one of them before they disappeared.”

Ford froze in place, his eyes widening.

…what?

“That cut was pretty deep, he probably died of blood loss already.”

“He deserved it though, I had the little girl in my arms and he body slammed into me like one of those torros back in Spain. He even roared at me.”

There was laughter amongst the men, and Ford felt his anger rising. They were laughing at the fact that his niblings were hurt. They must have grabbed Mabel, and they were definately talking about Zeus running into them to rescue her. Did- did they cut him? Were they talking about Zeus bleeding out?

Ford clenched a six-fingered fist. Beside him, one of the Manotaurs snorted angrily, his brow furrowed and his teeth bared.

They met eyes with each other, and they nodded, both being able to understand what the other was thinking without words. Ford took off his backpack and grabbed his crossbow, placing a bolt in place and getting three more ready, while the Manotaur signalled to his friends to surround them. They crept up a bank that had been hiding them from view, and finally Ford could see the monsters that dared to hurt his family. There were four of them, all in relaxed positions, though one of them kept glancing around nervously. They needed all four of them alive, so Ford would interrogate each and every one of them and find out where they had taken Stanley, and who had dared to hurt his niblings.

The other Manotaurs circled around the group, trapping them without their knowledge. The first Manotaur nodded at Ford again, and this time Ford took aim at one of the assailants feet, intending to trap him in place.

Ford fired with pinpoint accuracy, and all hell broke loose.

Chapter Text

When the other Manotaurs, Ford and Fidds all ran off into the forest, Emma-May and Kedar looked around the house for a bit before they made their way back to the house. They climbed carefully through the ruined door, and through the remnants of what once was the living room. She paused for a second, scanning the destruction.

Why would someone do this? Destroy all this… just for the sake of it? And if they hurt the kids the same way too…

“I can smell their trail this way.” Kedar said, pointing towards where Emma-May knew a storage room lay.

Emma-May nodded and walked in before him, climbing over the smashed TV and upturned sofa. But when she came to the storage room, she paused. 

The wall had been taken off. She stared at the hole in the wall for a long while, staring down the apparent staircase the boys had apparently been hiding. Was that… a bunker?!

For goodness sake, of course they made a bunker! Was that why Fiddleford had been trying to convince her to get a basement, if some so-called apocalypse came? There was no apocalypse! There wasn’t going to be one, Fidds and Ford were just being overdramatic.

“Are you ok Ma’me?” Kedar, ever the gentleman, asked when she hadn't moved in several seconds.

“Yes, I suppose I am.” she said, “Just… annoyed at my husband. He can be so over dramatic sometimes, talking about some apocalypse and how we are all supposed to prepare for it.”

“Apocalypse?” Kedar asked.

“The end of the world, apparently.” Emma-May huffed, “All because of one small broken piece of an ancient cave drawing they found while they were in the mountains. It really spooked them out, and they just assumed it was a prophecy that this ‘Wierdmaggedon’ was going to destroy the world. I mean, can you believe… Kedar?”

Kedar was looking at Emma-May strangely. Like he was half concerned, half in the same boat as she was.

“Was the rest of the cave painting destroyed by any chance?” he asked.

“Yeah it was… why? Is there really a Wierdmaggedon?”

“Not if… not if he wasn't summoned, no.” 

“Summoned? Wha- like a demon or something?”

“Basically. I won’t get into very much detail at the moment, but… the cave painting had an incantation to summon an evil deity whose name I’m not going to speak… but if the cave painting is destroyed, no one will be able to summon him anyways, so… we’re all good?”

Emma-May was staring at Kedar like he had just grown a second head. Kedar looked over and his face froze.

“Well, you know… I um, it- its only a fairytale, like you humans call it, I mean, its not like its entirely accurate, heh, ok I’ll shut up now.”

“... yes, I think that would be for the best.”

The pair looked at each other awkwardly for a couple of seconds, before Emma-May opened her mouth to say-

Kedar suddenly straightened up into a tense position, his eyes locked on the entrance to the bunker.

“Kedar? Whats wrong?”

“Somethings wrong.” he said, eyes fixed towards the staircase.

“W-what do you mean?”

“... I smell blood.” 

Emma-Mays eyes widened significantly. Her heartbeat started to go haywire, her mind spiralling through all the horrible situations it could be. With pure adrenaline and motherly instinct, she ran. She didn't even notice that she had moved until she was in total and utter darkness, speeding down the stairs faster than humanly possible.

She only stopped when she reached the bottom, Kedars shouts only distant cries that were barely audible so far down. There was a light down here, illuminating the underground cellar she found herself in. illuminating-

“Mum!”

Tate ran into Emma-Mays arms and she felt herself relax slightly.

“Tater Tot! Are you ok? Are you hurt?” Emma-May grabbed her sons shoulders and pulled him away from her, beginning to inspect his face for any signs of distress, poking and pushing his cheeks around, “The entire upstairs area is completely wrecked! Oh I should have stayed behind, I would have been able to protect you better from those- those monsters. I- I could have.

“Mum, I’m fine.” Tate said, batting away his mum's hands, “But… Soos… he um…”

Emma-May looked up. Wendy was there, along with Dipper and Mabel, and… Brutus. He was carrying something in his huge brown arms. It took Emma-May a long minute to realise what - or who - he was holding.

“Is he-” Emma-May choked, fearing the worst.

“He’s ok, for now.” Wendy said, “He did lose quite a bit of blood though.”

“What happened?” Emma-May asked, cautiously approaching the Manotaur and the half-asleep kid. She froze when she saw the red soaked bandages on his arm.

“Someone knifed him.” Wendy said casually. Way too casually.

“Wha- Wendy, there are children here!” 

“What?” the girl said defensively, “it's not like they don’t know what happened already. They were there.”

Emma-May sighed. From what she could tell, Wendy was very different from the rest of her siblings. While she had been surprised by the kindness and politeness of the other children, what she had seen of Wendy was very different. She was more… cold, more calculating, more… defensive. When she had first looked at Emma-May, the woman in question had felt scrutinized. She looked at her like she was a potential threat, something that had quickly set off the alarm bells in her head.

Teens shouldn’t see other people like potential threats.

“I suppose we should get back upstairs.” Emma-May said, “I know where the boys store the medicine cabinet. We can get you some more help then in a more… sterile environment.”

Just then, Kedar emerged from the stairs, panting slightly.

“Wha- Brutus? New King? What happened?”

“Kedar? Where have you been?”

“I- I followed after her, but she’s just too fast, I-” Kedar panted, “I’ve never seen any creature move like th-that before.”

“Thats because I am a mother and there was a chance my baby was hurt.” Emma-May said.

“Mum…” Tate grumbled under his breath.

“Speaking of which, we really need to get back up those stairs, Soos is still injured and I need to check his arm.” Emma-May said, gently taking her son by the hand and leading him over to the stairs.

When she walked past Kedar, she could have sworn she heard him mumble something under his breath.

“Shouldn’t have skipped leg day.” 

…….

“So… Where. Is. Stanley?” Ford said slowly, dangerously.

The tied up men shivered involuntarily. It was pathetic really, seeing them like this. How his brother had been caught by such incompetent people was beyond him. Even Ford thought his brother was better than that. (he knew he was better, just… admitting it was painful)

“We aren’t talking.” one of them huffed.

Ford glared at him.

“Oh, I think you’ll find that you will.” he said dangerously, “You hurt my family, who just happens to have this army of Manotaurs. I just need one of you alive… Do you know how painful it would be to die by suffocation? Or how long it takes for the feeling to leave you once your head starts to be crushed?”

The men paled at his words. Ford smirked.

“...Me neither. Would you like to help me find out?”

“Ok ok, I’ll tell you where they are.” One of them said,

“Jorge! Dios Mio, we can’t talk!” another one said, “You know what Rico will do to us if we talk! ¡Vas a hacernos hombres muertos!”

“It doesn’t matter!” The first said, “We’ll be dead either way, and I don't want to get my head crushed!”

“Ricos much worse though!” another one of them said, “He will torture us before we-”

“ENOUGH!” Ford yelled, accompanied by the Manotaurs roar, “You shouldn’t be worried about what Rico will do, you should be more worried about what I’ll do to you, because I promise you that I am way more dangerous than him. Do you know why?”

The men shook their heads, their eyes widened in fear.

“Because you hurt my family.” Ford continued, “And I hold grudges for a long… long time. And I will do anything to protect my family.”

Ford crouched down in front of them, his eyes cold, his face expressionless.

“And you are going to tell me where you took Stanley. Do you want me to make you, or will you just make things easier on everyone, and just tell us.”

The man relented, much to the protests of his friends, and Ford wrote down the directions he was given: apparently to some old run-down warehouse in the middle of nowhere. Ford would have to check with his notes and the Mailbox again in case they were lying, but that was easily done.

“Fiddleford,” Ford said, not taking his eyes off the men, “Could you get the cloth and the vial thats in the front of my backpack.”

“Um, sure…” Fords research partner said, sounding unsure.

“W-wait! I thought you said that you wouldn’t kill us if we-”

“I’m not going to kill you.” Ford said, “I just need to get you back to my house so we can think of a solution. And I’m not going to have you awake where you can… try something.”

Fiddleford handed the cloth and vial to Ford who proceeded to pour out its contents onto the cloth. He pressed the cloth onto the faces of each of the gangsters, until they all lost consciousness, collapsing on the ground.

“You three will need to carry them back, along with us.” Ford said, finally turning around to look at his… companions, “You think you can handle it?”

The Manotaurs all snorted.

“We could carry twenty of you humans all in one hand if we were able, Researcher.” One of them said, easily hoisting two of the men over his shoulders.

Ford snorted and turned to his research partner, who was looking at him with an unreadable expression.

“Fiddleford? What's wrong?” Ford asked, curious.

“I- I never… What the heck was that Ford!?” Fiddleford said.

Ford blinked at him.

“What was… what?”

“What was that? You- you acting like that? I-I’ve never seen you… be so… harsh, so cold.”

Ford blinked again.

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about. Could you… please… clarify?”

“Ya were- Ya scared me, Ford.” Fidds said, “You- acting like that. It was like… you weren’t yourself… but someone else for a moment.”

“What?”

“You… threatening those people, Stanferd. It was… so unlike you.”

…oh. That. 

“I-I…” Ford said, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Ford-”

“Can we just drop it? Please? We need to get back anyway.”

Fiddleford looked like he wanted to argue, but thankfully he didn’t push it.

“Alright. I guess we… we should get going.” Fiddleford said.

Two of the Manotaurs were holding the four prisoners between each other, leaving one of them to carry both Ford and Fiddleford. The research partners both clambered onto his back, before they started their trek back to the house.

It was already very early in the morning by the time they had finished, and it had gotten much, much darker. Ford could only hope that Emma-May and the other Manotaur had managed to find the kids, and that they were alright.

(and very distantly, though he wouldn't admit it, Ford wondered briefly if his younger twin was ok, and what he would say to him, after more than ten years of not seeing each other because of a grudge that seemed ever so slightly smaller and insignificant.)

(And when he’d gotten to be like his father)

Chapter Text

It didn't take very long for the party to come back. It was night time when they finally arrived back at the house, with the stars shining above them, illuminating the clearing with Ford's house at its center. It still looked broken and desolate, and Ford huffed out a sigh.

It was going to take a long time to repair, but that wasn’t the priority. 

They needed to get to Stanley… to make sure… the kids still had a father to go back to. 

It wasn't like he didn't want to be with his niblings! He wanted to get to know them, catch up on the time he hadn't known about them. It was just… he couldn't be a father! Even if his brother wasn't very good at looking after himself, he could probably do a better job at looking after the kids than Ford could. One of the only things he was better at then Ford, other than lying, and conning people.

Besides, many of his projects were too dangerous for children to be around. While he believed that at least Dipper and Wendy would be well behaved, Ford didn't trust that Mabel and Zeus could be careful around them. 

But in that case… he needed to get his brother back in one piece, safe and sound, old grudges aside.

At least… for the kids sake. 

Ford stopped in front of the forest, and the party stopped and stared at him. They asked what was wrong, but the questions were lost in the noise of his mind.

The kids! Zeus! The man said that he got stabbed! Was he ok? Did Emma-May get to him in time? Did they have to have a blood transfusion? Did they have the right tools? Or was she too late? 

What if… 

What if… Zeus - his nibling - was already dead?

No. no, no, no, no, no! This- this couldn't be happening! This couldn't- he couldn't let the kids die like this, on his watch! What would- he couldn't face - what would Stanley th-think if he- if his son-

“-nferd! Stanferd!” Fiddleford's voice yelled over Fords panic, "Stanferd! Can you hear me?”

Ford nodded, even though he found himself short of breath. Funny. He hadn’t done that much exercise, had he.

“Good, ok, listen very carefully.” Fiddleford said, “You are having a panic attack. Ya need te breath.”

Was that what this was? Huh.

“I need you to follow my instructions, ok?” Fiddleford continued.

“Are you sure you don't need any help?” one of the Manotaurs asked, distantly, as though he was far away.

“No, I told ya already, I got this.” Fiddleford said to them, and a second later, Ford felt two hands on his shoulders, “Ok, now I need ya te breath in for four seconds, hold for three and breath out for seven. Do ya think you can do it?”

“I-I c-can’t breathe.” Ford argued, though the effect was dulled by the fact that he had to wheeze out the words and his voice broke on the last syllable.

“Yes you can Stanferd.” Fiddleford said in a confident voice, “Now, try to match my breathing.”

Fiddleford started to breathe slowly, methodically, deliberately in front of Ford. Miraculously, Ford's breathing deepened, and eventually evened out completely.

“See, ya did it Stanferd!” Fiddleford said, smiling softly at him. He stood up and offered Ford a hand. 

Ford blinked, before realising that he was sitting on the floor against a tree in front of his house (when had he fallen?).

He tentatively took Fiddleford's hand and got up with his partner's help. His legs still felt a little shaky.

“What was that about?” Fiddleford asked, “Are you feeling ok Stanferd.”

“I- I was just- just thinking about the- THE KIDS!” Ford said, his eyes widening as he ran towards the house, running into the open doorway.

He was met with an axe to the face. Wendy glared at him from behind it, recognition dawning on her as they stood in silence, staring at each other.

“...I thought you were part of the gang.” she said as a way of explanation.

“Is Zeus-?”

“Soos is fine.” she said, lowering the axe, “He’s… lost a bit of blood, but he’s recovering.”

“They said they stabbed him.” Ford said.

“...Knicked him with the knife.” Wendy shrugged, “He’ll be fine.”

She looked behind him.

“Are those the idiots that hurt him?” she asked. 

Ford looked behind him to see the Manotaurs placing down the unconscious men a short distance from the house.

“Yeah. That's them.” Ford said, something dark entering his tone, “They’re going to help us get Stanley back.”

Wendy nodded, her eyes fixed on the men.

Fiddleford and two of the manotaurs came over to the house.

“How… How is everyone?” Fiddleford asked.

“Come see for yourself.” Wendy said, leading them into the living room. 

There were two other Manotaurs inside, huddled around the sofa. They both looked up at Ford and his companions. They grunted in greeting, before one of them moved aside to reveal the others. 

Ford froze in place. Zeus wasn't moving from his place on the table, one of the only pieces of furniture it seemed that hadn't been broken by the criminals outside, his body was covered in Ford's favorite woolen blanket. Emma-May, was sitting next to him, holding her son in her arms, as the Twins were being held in Brutus giant arms, the children all fast asleep. She wore a glum expression on her face.

Emma-May looked up as the other Manotaur moved away and her face brightened up a little. A split second later however, she looked down at the sleeping boy in her arms, and silently pressed a finger to her lips.

Fiddleford walked over to his wife and knelt down next to her, kissing her forehead.

“Is Soos ok?” Fiddleford asked in a quiet whisper.

“Yeah, he will be.” Emma-May said, “He’s sleeping at the moment. He lost quite a bit of blood. The kiddies were tired though. They fell asleep waiting for you, other than Wendy. She… couldn’t sleep.”

Fiddleford gave his wife a grim smile, before his eyes wandered over to Wendy, who was staring at the interaction with crossed arms. And now that Ford was looking as well, he noticed how tired she looked. She was shaking - not full on trembling, but enough to be noticed.

“Wendy…” Fiddleford said slowly, “When was the last time you slept?”

Wendy froze.

“Thats… thats not important.” she said.

“Wendy-” Emma-May started, before the teen interrupted her, her voice bordering on too loud.

“Look, I know what you’re going to say, and I get it. But I won’t be able to sleep until Dads back so… maybe we should be focusing on getting him back instead of worrying about me when we can’t do anything for me. Alright?”

Everyone turned to stare at her. Wendy’s cheeks flushed red and she looked away.

“...Does anyone have any ideas?” she asked, “Because I’d rather be trying to figure out how to save dad than waste my time here!”

Wendy slammed her fist against the half broken table in front of her, startling the kids awake. Tate woke up with a start, just as Dipper yelped and managed to fall from Brutus arms, landing on the ground with a thud. 

“...I’m awake.” he droned sleepily, sitting up.

“Dipper?” Mabel said sleepily, blinking up at the harsh light. Her eyes scanned the room, before widening when they found Ford, “Uncle Ford!” she said, jumping out from Brutus arms and running over to him, wrapping her arms around his legs. 

Ford blinked, stumbling back with the impact. Her grip was… surprisingly strong for such a small child.

“D-did you get the bad guys?” Mabel asked in a muffled voice, her face buried in Fords leg.

“I um… yes.” Ford said, hands hovering awkwardly by his side as he regarded his niece.

“Good.” she said, her voice still half unintelligible, “I was s-scared.”

Ford grimaced. He didn’t know how to deal with… these kinds of situations.

He looked up and gave a pleading look to Fiddleford. His research partner looked at Ford and back down to Mabel, before wrapping his arms around his wife, giving him a pointed look. 

Ford sighed, and placed his hands on the little girls back, patting her gently. Meanwhile, Dipper finished sitting up and rubbing his eyes, and he blinked at the scene in front of him, eyes lighting up for a second before dulling just as quickly. He stood up slowly and yawned.

“Uncle Ford?” he said, “You’re back?”

“Yes, Dipper, we managed to apprehend the people who took Stanley.” Ford said, “We’re going to get your father back.”

“I’m gonna help.” Dipper said in a determined tone.

“Kid,” Fiddleford started, “its too dangerous-”

“I know!” Dipper said, cutting Fiddleford off, “But he’s my Dad, I’m not going to just stay here and do nothing!”

“Yeah, I’m going too!” Mabel said, releasing Ford from her grip, before crossing her arms and pouting, “You can’t stop us!”

The adults all looked at each other with grimaced looks.

“I dont think that's a good idea.” Wendy said, surprising everyone, “Its too dangerous, look what happened to Soos! I- Dad won’t forgive me if something happened to you two.”

Mabel glared at her, full on glared at her older sister. Ford shuddered, despite not being the object of her gaze. She looked even scarier than Wendy.

“No!” she said in a childish pout, "That's exactly what Dad was saying when the bad guys took him! And the reason Soos is hurt is because we weren't together! You were almost trampled on by the Manotaurs, and that all happened because we split up! We all need to go and rescue Dad! Or one of us is going to get hurt again!”

“Mabel-” Dipper tried.

“No, Dipper, I know what you’re going to say,” Mabel said, “And I don’t care! Dad- I know he wouldn’t want me t-to g-go after him… ‘cause its t-too dangerous… b-but he’s… he said th-that when… when…”

Mabel started to cry, her voice breaking on the last word. Dipper was the first to move, running over to comfort his sister. Ford's eyes turned to look at Wendy who was looking a lot more awake, her eyes widened significantly.

“I-I…” She stammered, her gaze glued onto her two youngest siblings. They were making quite a bit of noise; he was surprised that Zeus hadn’t woken up yet. He must have been a really heavy sleeper. Tate had also fallen back asleep in his mothers arms.

“I think everyone’s just tired.” Fiddleford said, “I think we should all just try to get some sleep before-”

“NO!” all three kids yelled at the same time, all turning to glare at him.

“Children!” Emma-May snapped, and suddenly all attention was on her, “You need to sleep. We are all exhausted, and that is not going to help get your father back. Now you are all going to sleep, or so help me, I will use the chloroform Ford keeps in his backpack on you.”

“Wait, how did-” Ford started, before he was silenced with a glare.

“Does everyone understand?” Emma-May hissed. Everyone nodded eagerly, even the Manotaurs, who had been watching the exchange with morbid curiosity, “Good.” she said, standing up while balancing Tate in her arms, “The Manotaurs will have to take turns keeping watch, but I expect all of you to have a good night's rest. We have a lot to do in the morning. And before any of you kids argue with me, we need to be in the right frame of mind to be able to rescue your father, so I am not going to take no for an answer. Got it?”

Everyone agreed in the tone of a scolded child.

“Good.” she said, “Now, while you were all out, I managed to get all the pillows, cushions and blankets I could find, its not glamorous, and some of us will have to share, but I think because of the long day we’ve all had, we’re going to fall asleep in no time.”

“You wish.” Ford heard Wendy snort under her breath.

“Everyone, grab some blankets, and find somewhere to rest. And Wendy,” Emma-May continued, looking directly at Fords niece, “please, I know you think you can’t, but you need all your strength to be able to save your father. At least… try to sleep. For your father?”

Wendy’s expression shifted at the mention of Stanley. She hugged herself, her hands gripping her arms.

“... fine. I’ll try.” she said, in a quiet voice.

Emma-May nodded in approval. 

The next few minutes consisted of the Manotaurs helping to rearrange everything. They made some kind of strange nest in the center of the room, made of pillows and blankets. Emma-May and Fiddleford took one side, with Tate sleeping in between his parents, not having woken up during the Manotaurs reorganising.

Mabel and Dipper had opted to sleep in Brutus' arms again, but now they had a blanket over the both of them. Wendy sat awkwardly beside Zeus’s sleeping form, saying she was comfortable like that against Emma-May's insistence that she lie down to sleep. She was still wearing Stanley's jacket. Ford sat in his armchair, one of the only pieces of furniture that hadn't been obliterated. He watched as everyone else fell asleep. The twins fell asleep first, with Brutus following soon after. Emma-May and Fiddleford fell asleep at the same time, and the other manotaurs weren’t far behind. They had agreed to take shifts during the night to look after the prisoners in the garden. And lastly Wendy, despite her insistence that she wasn't going to be able to sleep, was the last one to succumb to slumber.

Ford closed his eyes and listened. It was strangely comforting to be able to hear other people when he was trying to sleep. He had grown up with Stanley snoring under him after all, his shallow sleeping breaths lulling Ford to sleep. It was something Ford had always missed when Stanley…

It had been hard to sleep that night. Ford suspected he hadn't slept at all. He had been half expecting the events of that day to be a dream, or at the very least, their father wasn’t being serious. But, even after that fact, Stanley hadn’t come back. He’d disappeared that night, never to be seen again. 

The bed below him had felt too empty. The silence too quiet.

The next night had been easier, though Ford felt guilty of that fact. His Ma… she had been crying softly in the other room. Ford suspected it had been the shock having finally worn out, but at least he had been able to sleep that night.

When he had left for college, it had been easier. He had a roommate, and though they were in separate rooms, the walls of their dorm were still very thin, thin enough that his roommate would often complain about the people around them when they were being too loud at night, or when they were trying to study.

Ford had never told him that the background noise helped him sleep.

He was just about to drift off when he heard something abnormal. Not in the Gravity Falls kind of abnormal, but…

It sounded like someone was having a nightmare. Ford opened his sleepy eyes and scanned the dark room. He could just make out the silhouettes of the Manotaurs sleeping in the room, and the outlines of the people sleeping on the floor. One of them was shuffling around, restless and wrong.

Wendy.

Ford grimaced. When he’d had nightmares in the past, Stanley would be there to comfort him. He’d climb up the ladder, despite his irrational fear of heights, and he would comfort him until they both fell asleep. Ford had done the same with Stanley, but his brother rarely had nightmares, and he was often so quiet Ford would barely notice him until he started crying.

Ford still wasn't very good with nightmares. With Stanley, it was enough just to be there with him. He couldn't whisper reassurances like Stanley could, couldn’t make him laugh despite his night terrors.

How was he supposed to comfort Stanleys daughter?

… what would Fords brother do?

Ford got up, throwing his blanket onto the chair and making his way over to his niece. He crouched down low in front of her, now being able to hear her mumbling something unintelligible under her breath.

“Easy there kiddo,” Ford said in the best impression of his brother, “I’m here for ya.”

Wendy stopped muttering and opened a sleepy eye.

“...Dad?” she whispered, her voice chock full of hope.

“Yeah, its me.” he said, reaching out to caress her cheek. She leaned into his touch.

“I-I missed you so much, Dad.” Wendy said, her hand reaching up to hold his, “I thought… I thought…”

“Its alright kiddo,” Ford continued, “I’m here. Ya can go te sleep now.”

Wendy sniffed a little but closed her eyes, with a small smile on her face. Ford stayed there with her until her breathing evened out, and she had fallen into a calmer slumber.

Chapter Text

“We need to be able to transport everyone.” Fiddleford said, “If the Manotaurs all want to come with us, we’ll need something big enough to transport them. But at the same time… it can’t just be too big. It’ll raise a lot of questions, especially if we want to do it inconspicuously."

“Dude, maybe we could use the van!” Soos said, “I mean, its big enough for all of us to live in it.”

Wendy gave him a look.

“Dude, I don’t know if it's the drugs or the blood loss messing with your head,” Wendy started, “But you cannot fit five fully grown Manotaurs into the van, as well as the rest of us. The car probably won't start. No offence, but even after all the handiwork you’ve done on it, it's still a hunk-o-junk. So unless you figure out a way around that problem, we can’t use it.”

“...Oh.” Soos said, flopping back down against the back of the sofa. Wendy winced internally: she hated being like that, especially to her cinnamon-roll of a big brother, but she was stressed enough as it was. She’d barely slept that night, and she probably wouldn’t have slept at all if she hadn’t hallucinated her father comforting her (because Stanley Pines was her father, he’d been a better father than… than..). Ford hadn’t told her where the coffee was, though she knew he had some, somewhere. He smelled like it all the time, so different from her dads scent of motor oil and mothballs. 

Wendy rubbed the sleeve of the jacket between two fingers. The comforting smell had faded a little, but it still smelled like dad.

We’re going to get you back, Wendy promised,  no matter what it takes.

“Well, another thing we can do is go in multiple cars?” Dipper asked. Mabel was busy drawing out a sketch of what would happen when they finally found their father. Her tongue was out in concentration, as she scribbled furiously with crayons that were borrowed from Tate.

While most onlookers would have seen her and thought that she wasn’t paying attention, or that she didn’t care, Wendy knew that she was just really stressed. Her artwork was one method in which she could decompress. Her best work had been done while worrying over their father when he went out in a dangerous area, or when Dipper had gotten that bug a couple of years earlier. Wendy still wore those leg warmers and mittens when it was really cold.

Soos was sitting in Fords chair, his arm propped up in a proper sling. Tate sat on the chair's arm, his legs swinging back and forth as the drama unfolded. Ford was pacing around, sometimes stopping to look outside at where Skullcrusher was keeping the prisoners. Fiddleford and Emma-May were sitting on two chairs they had taken over from the kitchen.

“We could, but I still don’t think the Manotaurs would fit, no offence guys.” Wendy said, turning to the four other beasts that were sitting around the edge of the room in a protective circle. 

“No offence taken, New King.” Steve said, waving a hand dismissively as he watched Mabel draw over her shoulder.

“So… we can't go on foot because it’ll take too long and it would probably scare people if they saw the manotaurs running at full speed.” Emma-May said, “But we also can’t take the car or the van because the Manotaurs don’t fit inside. Are there any other options?”

Everyone was quiet for a minute, and then-

“Actually, I think I may have an idea.” Ford suddenly spoke up. Everyone turned to him, “But I don’t know if the Manotaurs would like it.” 

The manotaurs in the room all narrowed their eyes.

“What were you thinking, researcher?” Kedar asked.

“I… as I was doing some of my research in the woods, I came across some crystals, that, when a light is directly shone through them and hits an animal or plant, they make it shrink or grow.” Ford explained, “I took some of the crystals for some further research, and, well, I was thinking that if we shrink the Manotaurs enough they may be able to fit inside the van, and we could… um… enlarge them when we get there?”

Silence filled the room. Ford looked uncomfortable again.

“Wait, wait, hold up,” Wendy said, “Did you just say that there are crystals that can grow and shrink people?” she looked towards the manotaurs, “Did you guys know about this?”

The Manotaurs exchanged glances.

“Yes, we were aware of the crystals in that part of the forest.” Everet said, “Though, we do not usually venture towards those parts. Being shrunk is not… pleasant to say the least.”

“Does it hurt or something?” Dipper asked. 

“No, its just…” Brutus sighed, “This forest is very dangerous, even for creatures like us. The only reason we are still alive is because we stick together and our size gives us an advantage.”

Wendy stared at him. That… she hadn’t thought about that. She’d just assumed… Well, the forest didn't seem that bad when she was in it, but she had been with the Manotaurs for most of it. They had protected her. Safely in numbers she assumed. She didn't realize…

What kind of a leader was she if she didn't know?

No. She couldn’t do that. She couldn’t make them feel… small. She knew the feeling. She knew from when-

The point was that she needed to protect the Manotaurs. That was what a leader was supposed to do. She couldnt, in good conscience make them do that. Not even if… there had to be another way. This couldn't be the only way, right?

“Then no, we aren’t doing that.” Wendy said, standing up, “We aren't going to make them shrink. There has to be another way. Like… this forest is really big and stuff, and a lot of the creatures in here are weird and magical and, there's probably some other crazy things around like… like… a plant that gives you invisibility when you eat it? Or a mirror that helps you teleport or something?”

Ford thought for a second.

“No, I- I don’t…” Ford said, “Not that I know of…”

“We don’t know about anything else that could help us either.” Kedar said, “New King, if this is to help your kin, we will do anything, even if we were using the Size Crystals.”

“I- I still don’t know if you… you…” Wendy stuttered, deflating, “I don’t want you guys to go through something that would make you uncomfortable.”

“We will do it, New King Wendy.” Brutus said, “Because we respect you. You managed to take down our best, though you were not one of us. And we will all stand by you, if you would let us. If this will help you get your father back, then we will do it. Because we want you. We trust you to keep us safe, Wendy, even if we are small. You’ve earned that.”

“Besides, if you want to save your father,” Fiddleford started, “You’re gonna need to make up your mind soon. He may not have enough time.”

Wendy blinked at him.

“I… I guess.” Wendy said, hugging herself, “If there's no other way… then… we have no choice.”

Brutus placed a hand on her shoulder and gave her a reassuring smile.

Wendy stayed silent for the rest of the planning. Everyone pitched in, coming up with ideas and strategies to help them get around whatever kind of security they may have, and how they were going to save their father. Except… her. This entire thing made her feel uncomfortable. 

Brutus didn't have to do that. Kedar, Everet, Skullcrusher, Steve… they didn’t have to. It was a touchy subject for them, but they were still willing to do it, do something so uncomfortable for her, so that they could help her. Did she deserve their help? She had to, but she couldn't find another way.

Suddenly, everyone was up, walking towards the door. 

“We- New King, are you ok?” Brutus said as she looked around dazed.

“I-I think so.” Wendy said, “Where is everyone going?”

“Weren’t you- nevermind. Forgive me, New King.” Brutus said, “But we have come up with a plan. I can tell you on the way, but we must make haste if we want to save your father.”

Wendy looked up at him and smiled. 

“Alright.” she said standing up, “Lets go save Dad.”

………

In a place so far away…

A man waited for his fate…

His mind was clouded in pain…

Flickering back and forth from unconsciousness…

He knew he would never see them again…

But at least he knew his family was safe.

Chapter Text

They managed to get to the place at midday. It didn’t take much convincing for the idiots that had destroyed Ford's house to lead the way to the town that Rico and the rest of his gang. They parked just outside the town, in a secluded area, where no one would think twice about a strange camper in the middle of nowhere. 

Ford was driving, with Wendy in the passenger seat, while the others sat in the back of the van, holding the miniature Manotaurs in their hands. Ford had tried to tell Wendy that it wasn’t the best idea to be in the front where someone could see and recognise her, and she pointed out that Stanley and him were twins, so they would definitely be spotted because of him, so he should stop complaining and drive already because they were losing daylight hours.

Ford had blinked at her, but didn’t argue. She had a point.

“Does everyone know the plan?” Ford asked after he had sedated the man they had brought to guide them. The other men were probably in the police station at that point, after Emma-May had the idea to send an anonymous tip to the GFPC.

“Yeah, we went over it like seventeen times on the way over.” Wendy said, already putting on some of the Manotaurs war paint on her face, “Lets just go and kick their butts and save Dad.”

Ford nodded, and grabbed his crossbow from the side of the chair. 

Fiddleford and Emma-May both put on sunglasses and some old bulletproof vests that Emma-May had borrowed from her father ages before for a costume party and forgot to give back.

Dipper unshrunk Kedar and he and his sister climbed onto his back, before unshrinking the others. Emma-May had tried to convince them to stay behind, but they were not having it.

Soos, Tate and Skullcrusher had the very important task of looking after the van and the unconscious prisoner they had in the back, though that was more because the adults wanted to keep them out of harm's way. The boys didn’t seem to mind though, and Skullcrusher was willing to do what was necessary.

The three of them wished the others luck as they walked towards the warehouse where the man had said they were hiding. Ford had gone to the Mailbox early in the morning to make sure that the man was telling the truth.

He was too terrified of the monsters that were on their side.

From a short distance, the small task squad watched the warehouse, trying to gather some information from what they could see. There were a few people patrolling outside, in pairs, looking casual. Ford wouldn’t have spotted them if not for Wendy pointing them out.

“How are we gonna get past them?” Fiddleford asked, “I mean, we didn’ think this far, did we?”

“We take them all out!” Mabel said.

Everyone turned to stare at her.

“What?” she asked, “They hurt dad.”

“Or, you know, better suggestion, we shrink them?” Dipper said, “We just need to shine the light on them and they won’t be able to do much.”

“Oh…” Mabel said, deflating a little, “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Thats actually not a bad plan.” Emma-May said, “It’ll make it easier for them to be taken by the police if they’re tiny. And besides, it would be a lot safer for the kids.”

“Let's do this.” Dipper said, brandishing the makeshift shrink ray: a torch with a shrinking crystal duct taped to the end.

They eased as close as they could to the building, all while keeping quiet. It was easier since the area was mostly deserted, as far as they could all tell. They got close enough to two men who were talking to one another, being deep in conversation.

“I wonder where Jorge is.” One of them said in a strong latino accent.

“Um, which one amigo ?” the other asked.

“You know who I mean.” the other one huffed, “My cousin?”

“...Oh yeah.”

With the help of Kedar, Dipper got into position and aimed the torch at the men. He turned it on. The light was subtle, barely visible in the daylight, but as it washed over the men, it did its job. They began to shrink. They cried out in confusion, cursing in spanish. Dipper shrunk them until they were the size of the gnomes in Gravity Falls. As soon as Dipper was done shrinking them, Ford leapt over the crate they were hiding behind and grabbed one of the men, making the other scream and scamper away.

The man looked up with terrified eyes as Ford glared down at him.

“Now, you are going to tell me where Stanley Pines is.” he said in a dangerously calm voice, “Or we’re going to have some problems.”

The man squirmed a little.

“Wait, man you’ve got the wrong guy!” he said, “I-I-”

“So I take it we’re going to have problems then.” Ford said, as he felt a shadow wash over him. Brutus snorted from behind.

The man in his hands gulped as he looked up at the Manotaur.

“Alright alright!” he said quickly, “He’s inside the warehouse. Ricos d-dealing with him.”

Fords eyes widened significantly. He threw the man carelessly into a pile of crates.

“We need to hurry. Now.” he said. 

“Yes! Time for the distraction!” Mabel yelled, “Come on Kedar, lets do this!”

The manotaurs all roared in anticipation.

The plan was simple. The Manotaurs would provide a distraction as Ford, Wendy, Emma-May and Fiddleford all raided the warehouse, and rescued Stanley.

But now they had to act fast. If this man was telling the truth, Stanley was in big trouble.

“Gotcha.” Dipper said, as the Manotaurs moved out.

Ford and his team stayed hidden, trying not to be noticed. Soon enough, there were screams and the sounds of gunfire, though they died down quickly as the roars of the Manotaurs.

“Thats our signal.” Wendy said, getting up and unsheathing her axe.

With that, the three adults and Wendy snuck past the panicking hired men and mercenaries. Most of them were panicking, or running towards the racket that was going on outside. 

They had to hide a couple of times before getting to the main room of the warehouse, as men were running towards the commotion.

Ford made everyone stop outside the door.

“What is it? He’s right there.” Wendy hissed, “Don’t you want to rescue him.”

“We don’t know how many people are in there.” Ford pointed out, “We could walk into a group of guards.”

“Then I’ll just take all of them out then.” Wendy snapped, gripping her axe.

“Thats reckless.” Emma-May whispered, placing a hand on her shoulder, “If your father is in there, and there are guards around, that would put him in more danger if we just barged in. They could hold him hostage, and that could complicate the plan. Or we could be in danger, which would not help your father.”

“I can figure out how many people are in there, I just need a minute.” Ford said.

Wendy huffed, and looked away.

“Fine. Just make it quick.” she said angrily, “We don’t have much time…”

Ford nodded and slowly and carefully opened the door. He fit the crossbow through the gap and peered in as best he could.

The room was silent. No one was around, at least not that Ford could hear anyways. No one shouted at him, no one did anything.

Maybe the man who hurt him wasn’t there, or had gone out to see what the commotion was.

Ford opened the door all the way. There was no one else inside. Except…

“Stanley?”