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Stan hugged the duffel bag tighter to his chest as he watched Ford pull the curtains close; the door of the pawn shop slamming shut not a second after. How had everything gone so wrong in just one night? Yesterday everything had seemed the same minus the looming thought of a school suddenly coming to take Stanford away from their dream. Now he was standing on the side-walk in jeans that he had planned on washing with the rest of his laundry that night, and a pre-packed duffel bag his father had seemed to have already had packed.
He felt cold, not because he didn’t have his jacket on to fight against the cool of the oncoming night. More so because he hadn’t expected this to happen; his whole world had just shattered around him in an instant; his twin had left him hanging.
Stan's legs moved on their own accord, mouth shouting insults at the people inside the home as he dug around his pocket for his car key. He wasn’t fully aware of what he was doing when he had run over hi- Filbrick’s trash cans. Stanley only became away from himself when he had parked the car near the swing set that him and Ford were always on every summer.
Except that one, the summer of their thirteenth birthdays they had been sent off to stay with their great aunt. The amount of adventure, mysteries, and just plain fun had seemed like they could last forever. Ford had promised them through the end of the summer's terrifying chaos that he would grow up with him, that it would always be them two and Fiddleford. What a load of bunk that turned out to be.
Tears threatened to spill from his eyes but he held them in, desperately opening the duffle bag that he had thrown in the passenger’s seat to locate the one thing he hoped Filbrick hadn’t left out. He almost started crying with relief seeing his cell phone laying on top of an old shirt he believed was actually Ford’s.
Stan picked it up, unlocking it quickly so he could get to his contacts; his thumb hitting the call button before he really thought out what he had to say. He wasn’t sure what time it was in Oregon but he needed this. He needed this small bit of hope that he wasn’t going to living in his car, he wouldn’t have to start this forced adulthood without help.
On the second ring the phone was answered, a woman’s voice answering with a cheery tone.
“Well, if it isn’t my dear little jelly bean,” Mabel said, obviously excited to hear from her great nephew, “What’s up, Pumpkin? Ford get into that school he has been raving about for the past two weeks? Want me to send that celebratory glitter letter we talked about last night?”
The mention of the project and the letter broke Stanley, the teenager bawling into the receiver. The sound of her nephew’s distress breaking away Mabel’s cheery demeanor, the old woman sounding desperate to try and comfort him without being there to hug him.
“Stanley, what happened? What is wrong?”
Stan hiccupped, clinging to the phone desperately. “I-I messed up big time, Grauntie Mabel. I messed u-up big time.”
“I am sure you didn’t mess up too bad, mistakes happen to everyone.”
Stan shook his head despite Mabel not being able to see the action.
“No. No, I did. Stanford won’t g-get to go to his school and h-he hates me for it. A-And Pa, he… he...” He choked on the words, as if saying it out loud would make this situation even more real.
“He did what, honey?”
“He kicked me out,” Stan strangled out of himself, the reality of it crashing down like he was afraid of. "H-He kicked me out and I don't know what to do."
He wasn’t even sure if it was legal to do that anymore, it was 2017 after all. He was seventeen he wouldn't be a legal adult till June, he hadn’t even graduated yet. He didn’t know if he could go back to school if he didn’t have a home or was he doomed to fail and join the homeless people that he sometimes saw wandering the beach. He couldn’t get a job easily without a high school diploma and Ford had been helping him in school; even his great uncle couldn’t help him with all the tutoring in the multiverse.
“I knew sending you back there at the end of that summer was a bad idea,” Mabel said, sounding like she was struggling to keep her emotions in check for the sake of the blubbering teenager.
Stan sniffed, putting down the phone to wipe at the tears and snot that were running down his face. He put it back to his ear to catch the last of his great aunt’s request.
“…plane ticket for you soon as I can.”
“W-what?”
Mabel didn’t seem to take the confusion of what she said as an insult, probably believing that Stanley had just been too emotionally incapable to listen to her.
“Said I am going to get you a plane ticket as soon as I can, you aren’t staying up there where I can’t help you.”
“But…” Stan said, looking at his car. The only thing he really had at the moment, “C-can’t I just drive? I have my car, I-I would just need gas money and- “
“I’ll have Fiddleford help me transfer some into your account,” Mabel said, cutting him off. “Got your wallet right?”
Stanly nodded, only remembering that she couldn’t see and gave a verbal noise of agreement.
“Alright, I will call Fidds to come back from Candy's to help me as soon as we are done here and you should have your money soon as we are done.” Mabel continued, “I want you to sleep tonight, don’t begin the drive. I’ll put in enough for a cheap motel room if you want.”
“N-No,” Stanley said, looking at the back seat of the Stanley Mobile, “I am good. I have slept in the car a few times, it ain’t that bad since I got the seats fixed up.”
“If you are sure,” Mabel sounded uncertain, “I’ll still put it in just in case.”
“Alright,” Stan said, guilt clawing at him for taking money from his great aunt. “Grauntie Mabel… thank you.”
“Think nothing of it, Stanley.”
Stan did though, he thought the world of this. He could be truly homeless without her there to help him, she was always there when he needed someone else to talk to. He choked back a new sob, those happy days now tainted with the angry look on his twin’s face and the curtains closing. No sound made it through to Mabel’s end but she stayed on the line as an emotional support.
“Grauntie Mabel,” Stan said, after finding a few moments to calm himself down, “C-Can… I ain’t going to be graduating, even if I transfer schools. I am not smart enough for tha- “
“Stanley F. Pines, I don’t want to hear another word out of your mouth unless it is see you in a few days,” Mabel snapped, “You are smart, and brave, and funny. The first few days here I will help you get settled, then I am getting you registered in the high school here and you are going to finish this senior year along with your brother once I get him out of that wretched home.”
At the mention of Ford, Stanley made a small noise of protest. He knew his great aunt never liked her nephew but Filbrick had clearly crossed a line. Bringing Ford into this mix would probably make the other boy angrier.
“No,” Stan protested, “D-Don’t bring Ford into the mix.”
“Honey, that house has never been in any shape to raise children,” Mabel said, her tone serious, “Your father is just a bitter man for no reason, a mystery to me since he was born. If I had enough proof while you both were here that summer, I would have never let you go back, would have fought for custody over the both of you but sadly I did not and had to let you go. I’m sorry.”
“N-no need to be sorry,” Stanley whispered, in shock with his great aunt’s confession. He had always seen his home as just a strict place to grow up; sure Filbrick was blunt but he had loved them both. Least, Stan had thought he did. They sat in silence after that, just listening to the other breathing. Mabel sometimes making a calming sound of Stan's breath got too erratic or sounded like he was crying again.
“I should call Fiddleford before it gets too late over there,” Mabel said, her voice hesitant. “I love you, Stanley.”
Stan’s throat constricted because of the words. He didn’t want her to go but he knew he needed to conserve his phone battery life.
“Love you too, Grauntie Mabel,” he said, hoping his voice didn’t sound too much like he was crying again.
“I’m a phone call way,” Mabel said, “If you need anything.”
With that and a few extra moments of silence, she hung up. Stan lowered the phone from his ear, letting himself look out the windshield up at the stars. Slowly, he got out of the car and faced the ocean breeze; letting the chilly salt air of the Atlantic wash over him and make himself believe that the salt on his face was only from the water and not tears.
It took almost two days at max to drive straight to Oregon without stopping, a few hours left over for such recreational activities. He only allowed himself to sleep that first night after the call with his great aunt and a few short one to two hour naps parked along the highway.
He was tired and numb when he finally pulled past the faded sign that read “Gravity Falls”. Stan road down the streets like he had been driving him his whole life, eyes barely moving to see the townsfolk who were staring at the new comer. He only allowed himself to be directed by the signs Mabel had everywhere directed tourists to the Mystery Shack.
The Stanley Mobile hadn’t been parked outside the Shack for a second before the old woman raced outside and pulled him out of the driver's seat to give him a tight hug. If it was any other situation, he would have found it hilarious that he was now taller than her by a good foot. He didn’t though, instead the teenager leaned down and hugged her just as tightly.
The sound of running footsteps approaching from behind them told Mabel to reluctantly let go of her great nephew. The teenager turning to face the boy that had been at the main event of his teasings summers ago.
Fiddleford McGucket really hadn’t changed at all besides getting taller, his sandy colored hair had darkened a bit but still stood up in odd places and he was still as thin as a bean stalk. Motor oil was streaked across Fidds’ cheek, only helping to distinguish worried blue eyes that stared behind round glasses.
If Stanford could see you now, Fidds. Stanley couldn’t help but think, accepting the hug the southerner was offering. Stan tried not to squeeze as hard as Mabel had been for him, afraid of snapping Fidds in half. Fiddleford didn't seem to care, hugging even tighter then Mabel had been. The hug making Stan's nose be buried in the other teen's shirt, giving him a small of apples and motor oil, something that was just pure Fiddleford.
“Oh Stanley,” Fiddleford muttered, same southern twang easily heard mixed with a kind voice, “I am so sorry to say this but I am glad your back here. It has been just plain borin’ without you runnin’ aroun’.”
“Miss me that much, Fiddlnerd?” Stan said, the joke coming out flat but till brought a small smile to both of their faces.
“You know it, moron.”
They both pulled back from the hug and laughed, the noise almost sounding broken yet, in a strange way, whole. Mabel not able to stand back any longer and hurried over to them and hugged them tightly. A happy smile on her face as she looked up at the both of them.
“Come on, let us get you settled and a good meal in you,” She said.
Stanley nodded, wiggling out of the hug to reach into the car to grab the duffel bag before locking the doors. His great aunt took his hand and Fiddleford slung his arm over his friend’s shoulder. On the porch stood Dipper a smile on his old face as he opened the door for them. Fiddleford and Mabel moving into the house ahead of Stanley.
Stan stopped before the doorway and looked at his great uncle, unsure if the childish memories were actually telling the truth of his uncle liking Stanford more than him. Dipper only smiled, no sign of hate anywhere in his eyes, and reached over and giving Stan’s shoulder a squeeze of reassurance.
“Glad to have you back.”
Stanley looked into the familiar home, breathing in the scent of dust and old wood. Nothing had seemed to have changed much since the summer of 2012 and that was perfectly fine with him.
“Good to be back,” he muttered, stepping into the home. The movement sending a wave of peace over him.
“Hope you don’ mind us being roommates in that old spare room, Stanley,” Fiddleford said, taking the duffle bag from the other, “Thought it may be a good idea for that since I have been stayin' here a bit…but if ya' want your own room then the attic should be free. Dr. Pines mostly sleeps downstairs so-“
“It’s perfect, Fidds,” Stan said, patting his skinny friend on the back, “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Who wants some Mabel Juice and cookies while we wait on our late lunch?” Mabel asked, coming back into the main room.
Fiddleford and Stan shared a look, a knowing look on their faces.
“Bet you can’t drink the whole pitcher, Lee,” Fiddleford said quickly with a smirk on his face.
“I bet I can, F!” Lee said, a genuine smile lighting up his face before both the teens ran towards the kitchen.
Everything was starting to look up now that he was back in Gravity Falls.