Chapter Text
Ford opens the door to let the children and social worker into the Shack. His heart is pounding a bit, and he takes a deep breath. He doesn't actually have much to be worried about, does he? He's taking care of the children, right?
Now is really not the time to ponder over it.
Mabel is talking a hundred miles a minute, telling Ms. Dower-Tatch about her sock puppet plans for the talent show. Ford uses the woman's distraction to steer the children to the living room and place them before a movie. That should distract them for enough time.
"So," Ford puts his hands behind his back, hiding his fingers.
"Shall we head to the kitchen for a moment?"
"Yeah, of course," like it's an option.
Ford steps through to the kitchen, Ms. Dower-Tatch close behind. He flicks on the overhead light, the yellow bulb humming to life, and gestures at a pair of mismatched mugs on the counter.
“Coffee? Tea?” he offers.
She shakes her head, arms folded. “I’m fine, thanks.”
Right.
“I’ve reviewed your file, Mr. Pines. You’re providing for the kids: healthy meals, help with homework, a stable schedule.” She pauses, as if ticking off an invisible checklist. “All of that looks good.”
Ford straightens. “Right, yeah, thanks. I make sure they’re eating right, get to bed on time, finish their assignments.”
She lifts a brow. “That’s not what worries me.” She taps the table once.
“All right, then what does?”
"Your brother left custody of the twins to you, but you're not the only adult that lives in this household with them, are you?" Ms. Dower-Tatch says, motioning with her head to one of the pictures hanging on the wall. The one of Stan and the twins.
"My brother Stanley has lived with Dipper and Mabel their entire lives," Ford says, keeping his voice as calm as he can.
"I am aware," the social worker waves a hand, dismissive, and Ford grinds his teeth. "But that was when Sherman was alive, Mr. Pines. And when I tried to call your brother, the person who answered the phone was a Colombian police officer."
God fucking dammit.
Ford clears his throat, "Stan isn't the kids' guardian."
"The question is whether or not he's a good influence on them. And, if you have a support system to help with the kids."
"Right," Ford sticks his hands in the pockets of his pants. "A support system, aside from Stan, that is."
"Well, it was a little concerning, that when I asked you who could watch over the children while you made your way to Gravity Falls, you named Susan Wentworth... who if I'm not mistaken is not related to you? While, as far as I'm aware, you have a mother who's still living?"
"Trust me, any concerns you have about Stan being around the kids, my mom doubles them," Ford says dryly. "She'll have them running scams from here to Timbuktu."
Ms. Dower-Tatch raises an eyebrow—See?
"My mom isn't involved in the kids' lives," Ford says. "And Stan's issues with the law—those have nothing to do with the twins. He doesn't involve them."
"Aside from the family business, that is?"
Ford nearly rolls his eyes, "The Mystery Shack? We don't have child labour here if that's what you're thinking."
"And what about the fact that the Mystery Shack is, in itself, an illegally run entity?"
"It's a tourist trap, it's not illegal," Ford isn't sure how he ended up defending the Shack, but if that's what he has to do, that's what he'll do. "The Mystery Shack—it's a legitimate, if a little skeezy, business that has been in our family for generations now."
"I'm not saying you need to close the Shack or anything," Ms. Dower-Tatch says—though that had seemed close to what she was implying. "I'm just mentioning the things that give me some concern over the twins' living situation. I of course wouldn't ask you to keep the children's uncle out of their lives—quite the opposite, in fact. What the twins need now more than anything is consistency."
"So you're saying all of this to, what, let me know I already have a few black marks?"
The social worker grins, pointing to Ford like he's figured it out, "And that we don't want more of them, hmm? Make sure the children have stability, that they have consistency, that when your brother returns, he stays inside the lines of the law. And we shouldn't have any issues here."
But we could have issues, and if we have them, you just let me know you have a list all set and ready.
"I understand," Ford nods, "Stability and consistency and no illegal activities. That seems a reasonable bare minimum when dealing with children."
"I'm glad we're on the same page," Ms. Dower-Tatch gets up from the table, slinging her side bag back on. "I'll be in touch, Mr. Pines. And I do mean it—you seem to be doing good."
"Just," Ford clears his throat. "A small question."
"Yeah?"
"You don't seem to... like the Shack very much," Ford says carefully, "So, if I thought about taking the twins with me back to New York—"
The smile disappeared.
"Stability and consistency, remember?" Her tone was as cold as ice. "I can't think of something more destabilizing and less consistent as taking them away from the only home they've ever had, from all their friends, their school environment, and fly them across the country."
"Right."
"So let's not think of doing that, huh?"
"Right," Ford echoes. He walks the social worker to the door, and as she says her goodbyes to the children he looks out into the Gnome Forest and feels his escape routes narrow.
---
So. He can't take the twins and leave Gravity Falls. If he does, he'll lose custody of them. Dower-Tatch had made that pretty clear, even if not in so many words. And he can't risk that. Stan would never get custody, and neither would Mom, probably (The only real difference between Mom and Dad, or you and Stan, Ford had once said to Shermie, is that you and Dad are better at hiding your crimes).
The thought of leaving the kids in the hands of someone else, when Shermie had given them to him , hurts something deep inside Ford. But he has to think about it. Because if he's not losing his mind, and he really saw what he thinks he saw and it meant what he thinks it meant, then he needs to leave. He needs to run. Because if Bill comes anywhere near the twins—
(He'd like Mabel, her utterly unique mind, and Dipper is so clever, Bill could use that when the boy gets older—)
Ford can't let that happen. It would be so much better for the twins if he were gone.
If he was gone…
Not a good thought. Stop that thought.
But what if—
Ford groans and rubs his face. He's standing in the attic, outside of the twins' bedroom door.
Dipper jumps up, almost out of his skin. Mabel just grins while Dipper looks utterly guilty, like he's done something much worse than stay up when he should be asleep.
"We just—we wanted—" Dipper motions to his project.
"To work on your projects, I see that," Ford comes to sit down on the carpet between the kids. "I guess it couldn't wait until tomorrow?"
"No," Mabel says seriously.
"The muses of inspiration hit at different times," Ford says. Dipper puts his work down and comes to climb into Ford's lap. Ford folds his arms around Dipper, hoping his arms are strong and large enough to make Dipper feel safe (when Ford was little, Shermie's arms had always been that, a place where Ford and Stan had hidden when... they needed a place to hide).
"This is Princess Sparkle-Sparks," Mabel picks up one of the socks and dangles it in the air.
"Pleasure," Ford says, and Dipper waves slightly in greeting.
"She's half princess and half horse princess—" Mabel begins, and Ford sighs inwardly and settles down to listen.
—
Things are quiet for a few days. Ford sees the kids off when the school bus comes and is there when it drops them off again at the end of the day. He submits two finished papers to journals and gets back editors' notes that are mostly the normal "the editor feels like they have to make some comment to justify their salary but there isn't really anything to comment on when the work is perfect." He and Mabel go into the forest so she can introduce him to all her favorite gnomes. He works with Dipper on finishing his large magnetic field and stores it in the parlour, where Ford's been staying, to keep it safe from Mabel until the talent show.
Ford tries not to think about Ms. Jones, or the tree. He doesn't go back to the school to see the teacher and confirm her tattoo, and is that the healthy thing to do because he's not indulging his paranoia, or is it unhealthy because he's avoiding it?
Ford decides to go with healthy and leave it at that. Avoidance. It works. Sometimes.