The Long Shift

The old mop squelched against the older wooden floor as Bill swabbed away. Cleaning up a stain left a careless tourist. The floor that never stays clean for more than a day. Day in day out, The sun rose and fell, tourists entered with full wallets and exited the Mystery shack with lighter pockets but heavier hands. Working in the tourist trap for how long as he had, Bill could recognise returning customers. Higher pitched voices that children shard with their parents. the same terrible taste in outfits and trinkets that that were passed down much like blonde hair or brown eyes. 

He had tried working the crowd. Using his unusual appearance to lean into the persona of being Mr Mystery. But the dullness of the brainless guests wore on him. The hands that passed over his head trying to find the strings pulling him as though Bill Cipher of any being was a puppet. The tedious questions, the ridiculous attractions, when given the chance to return to handy work he couldn't slip on his over-sized green shirt fast enough.

How Stanley had done this job for 30 years stunned Bill to this very day.

The Pines family were averse to him working at the shack at first. In truth so was he. But, seeing that he was powerless, Stanford at the very least was willing to let him remain. The others were harder to sway, of course Bill knew why Ford relented. The shack no longer being his was one reason. Although the triangle doubted that Soos would have had the backbone to argue with the Pines if they told him that Bill could not remain. The true reason that Ford allowed Cipher to remain was because of who placed him in the Shack to rehabilitate.

The Axolotl. 

If arguing with Bill was a waste of time, then arguing against a decree by that pastel salamander was pointless. The obnoxious thing knew even more than Bill did. Much as the triangle was loathe to admit that fact. It had stated that working at this sham of a business would help with his rehabilitation. Bill scoffed at the idea at first, but the idea of finally leaving the dull halls of the theraprisim was a deal he could not refuse. Losing is powers was a great price to pay, but anything was better than dealing with freaks in friendship circles all day.

Of course the arguments about him staying were far behind him, years in fact.

When the Ramirez family drove him out to the Stan twin's funeral Bill didn't know what to do at first. His gut feeling was to laugh, the grand hero of the multiverse, dying of a heart attack before his 'greatest enemy'. But Bill didn't do that. It didn't feel right. The thought of laughing in Ford's cold dead face, while hilarious felt bitter and unsatisfying. When he was in the padded cell in the theraprisim Bill had dreamed of being the cause of these two men's deaths. And while he was not the cause, looking at their peaceful faces in their coffins, Bill only felt hollow.

on the drive back to the shack Bill didn't know why Soos refused to get back to work. The shack felt somber, the usually upbeat couple of soos and melody were quiet. The pair had told bill that they were taking the week off and that he was free to do as he pleased, not even bothering with a warning of staying out of trouble. 

With the whole town as his oyster, Bill could have caused all kind of trouble. Instead he sat in the gift shop, ruminating on the familiar feeling. His mind was drawn back to something that happened eons ago. his first crime. When Soos is Finally able to don the suit, bill is thankful to have work to push his thoughts out of his head.

Even that was many many years ago.

The town out outside the window of the shack has grown much larger, the new populace long ignorant to Bill and his history. The title of 'Mr. Mystery' had been passed down many times. The Pines name is only remembered by the graves outside and the portraits on the walls. Bill is certain that if it wasn't for the heritage of the shack it would have been demolished decades ago.

Bill had seen small blue embers arise from his hands every so often. Part of him wondered if his own power was what kept the shack in place. Generations since his sentence at the shack had been declared, surely some spec of his power would return. If that was not the case then the axolotl must have been keeping his new 'prison' present intact permanently. 

With a sigh through his eye Bill continued to mop. He caught sight of a pair of young children laughing loudly in the other side of the gift shop. The ice blocks in their hands dripped sticky sweet syrup on to the wooden floor. With a sigh he waited for the family to leave before mopping up behind him. The thought of a clean floor carrying him through to the end of the day.

Crystal Meet Cute

My secret Santa gift for @mother-ofthe-universe. They wanted something to do with their Stanley Universe Au. And my fiddstan heart felt kinship for a scene they described. They enjoyed it so I hope you all enjoy it too (and be sure to check out their work too, they have some really fun au's)

(also on ao3!)

Fiddleford gave a heavy sigh. Greasy's diner wasn’t the best place to eat. As is the name, the food was greasy, and the coffee was too watery. Then again, that isn’t why most people came out to this diner in the middle of the town. At least Fiddleford dearly hoped no one was coming out to Greasy’s for the food. For most it was a convenient and criminally cheap place to eat.

But for Fiddleford McGucket, a visit to Greasy’s in the morning was a chance to socialize. Working with Stanford Pines wasn’t bad, he was his best friend after all. However, knowing Stanford as well as he did, he knew the man was averse to meeting people, and heaven forbid he spoke with them. And while he did love his friend dearly, there was only so many times he could talk about their latest research notes or their next DDmD game plan. 

Fiddleford needed to talk to people, different people, new people. And while the townsfolk were odd, they were at least interesting for conversation. From the fellow southerner who ran the car dealership, to the loud lumberjack, even the aspiring news presenter entered through Greasy’s always open doors. Everyone had their own lives with their own stories to share. And Fiddleford enjoyed listening to each and every one. He was more than eager to share some of his own.  It helped break down the confusion surrounding Stanford and his research, and in some instances made it worse. 

Unfortunately today was shaping up to be a rather quiet morning. Winter in Oregon was harsher than some places. And this morning seemed worse than usual, 6 inches of snow with more expected throughout the day, made it no wonder as to why the diner was empty. It seemed that most of the town was taking their time in getting out of bed. Fiddleford wasn’t afforded that luxury as his roommate and employer had a strict schedule for observing nature, and any desire to avoid frostbite was considered irrelevant.

He was ready to pick himself up, and leave the empty diner when the door opened. Working for a few months in Gravity Falls had gotten Fiddleford used to the locals, even to the  oddities that tried to blend in among them, but the man who walked through the diner door was not something or one he had seen before. He had long curled hair that reached his back, a familiar square jaw and a cheeky grin. But the oddest part, from where Fiddleford stood at least, was the fact that the man was walking around in a T-shirt in this blistering cold.

“Heya Susan!” the man called in a gravelly voice. “Give me the usual. With extra sugar.”

“Comin’ right up Stan.” Susan called back with her usual cheerful tone. 

He walked into the diner, taking a seat a couple of booths down from Fiddleford. Looking down at his coffee, Fiddleford felt a wave of curiosity and sympathy wash over him. He picked up his mug and made his way to this ‘Stan’. He stopped next to the booth before speaking. “Mornin’ Stan.” Fiddlefod said with his friendliest smile. “Is this seat taken?”

“Mornin’ to you too Mac, how’d you get my name?” Stan said, he reached a hand into his pocket and gave Fiddleford a quick once over. 

“Hard to miss it with Susan yellin’ it across the diner.” Fiddleford chuckled. “I don’t have time to come to town for long, so I try to talk to anyone I can before I have to go back to work.”

“Yeah, yeah. take a seat if you want.” Stan withdrew his hand from his pocket and pointed to the seat opposite him. His attention engrossed in the worn out menu in front of him.

“What’s your usual? If’n you don’t mind me asking.” Fiddleford took his seat, placing his coffee on the table.

“Black.” Stan said flatly.

“Smart, smart. The coffee here don’t taste too good if you ask me.” Fiddleford spoke behind his hand. Not wanting to hurt Susan’s feelings with his words.

“Like having sex on a canoe.” Stan rolled his eyes. “So what’s your name Mr. Talks-a-lot.” 

“My name is Fiddleford Hadron McGucket.” Fiddleford proudly offered his hand. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.” 

“Nice to meet you too, Fidds.” Stan hardly looked up from his menu. Fiddleford could see that the other man was scanning through the page quickly. His eyes went from price then to menu item. Watching someone else in a similar situation to him when he was in college hurt Fiddleford’s heart. He was about to say something else when something on the back of Stan’s menu caught his eyes, and an idea sparked to life in his mind.

“Susan!” Fiddleford called. “Can I get two plates of waffles please?”

“Comin’ Right up Fiddleford!” Susan replied

“You sure a string bean like you can eat more than one?” Stan smirked.

“Oh one’s for you Stan.” Fiddleford smirked. 

“Hey hey, I ain't got the dough for something like that.” Stan said quickly. He placed both hands on the table.

“No no! Don’t worry. This is on me.” He flipped over Stan’s menu and pointed at a post-it note that had a ‘2 for 1’ deal written on it.

“The hell’s this?” Stan scoffed.

“Just between us, but I heard a rumor that these menus were real pricey for Susan to get printed. So when she has specials and people don’t read the board, she puts notes on the menus to get more people buyin’ food.” Fiddleford whispered behind his hand.

“How do I know you didn’t stick this one when I wasn't looking?” Stan raised an eyebrow. “You were the only other guy here before I walked in.”

“How would I know which booth you could sit in and plant a note there?”Fiddleford asked. “What am I Psychic?”

“I know a couple, that’s more likely than you think.” Stan squinted.

“There’s an easy solution for this.” Fiddleford turned to the window to the kitchen. “Susan, is the 2 for 1 still available?” 

“Yessire!” Susn replied cheerfully. She waved her spatula at Fiddleford to punctuate her cheer.

“Right. Yeah okay. So long as I don’t gotta pay for nothin’ I guess I don’t mind.” Stan slipped back in his seat. He turned his gaze away from the cheerful southerner. 

“Trust me, the food might live up to the name and the coffee might not be great but they’re better together than alone.” Fiddleford said.

“I heard that Gucket.” Susan said bitterly from the kitchen.

“Sorry Susan.” Fiddleford said, his ears turning red while Stan chuckled at his embarrassment. 

The pair sat together, patiently waiting for their food to arrive. As expected it was greasy and would have been much better if made at home. But a full stomach of greasy waffles was preferable to an empty stomach. There was also that added benefit of losing some of the tension Fiddleford felt surrounding Stan like a protective mist. Once their food was eaten, their watery coffee drank and their bill paid, the pair left the diner together.

“Don’t you got some job you gotta go to?” Stan asked as they walked through the town. Several stores had lifted their shutters and were finally opening their doors to customers. 

“Why do you ask Stan?” Fiddleford wore a cheeky grin. “Eager to get rid of me?”

“No but I don't want your boss to give you any shit for being late or nothing.” Stan said. He chewed his cheek.

“Don’t worry about that. If my ‘boss’ gets upset about me talking with people in town then he should get off his high horse and finally take a break.” Fiddleford bumped Stan’s with his elbow.

“Sounds like he’s got a stick up there.” Stan smirked.

“He does sometimes.” Fiddleford nodded.

“Reminds me of someone.” Stan sighed.

“Penny for your thoughts?” 

“I’m nowhere near that cheap,” Stan said with a small smirk.

“I’ll make sure to save up for next time then.” Fiddleford smiled in return.

The pair walked in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before Fiddleford came to a complete halt.

“You okay string bean?” Stan asked.

“Stanley, could you wait a moment?” Fiddleford didn’t wait for the other man’s response. Instead he dashed into a store a few places in front of them.

It took a few minutes but Fiddleford soon returned, with a large paper bag in hand and a wide grin on his face. He looked around and found Stanley leaning against a tree, hands in pockets and eyes in the sky. Fiddleford was quick to walk over to Stanley and handed him the paper bag.

“What’s this?” Stanley asked. “I already told you Fidds I ain't got dough on me.”

“You’re walking around in a T-shirt in the middle of winter.” Fiddleford put his hands on his hips. “I know that some men say that they don’t ‘feel the cold’ when they reach a certain age but my Ma don’t believe in such a thing and neither do I.”

“That’s nice and all, but I still can’t pay you back.” Stan repeated.

“It’s a gift.” Fiddleford said. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I dunno, feels kinda weird.” Stan said.

“Did ya turn down gifts from Santa?”Fidds asked

“I’m Jewish”

“Did you turn down gifts from your family on Hanukkah?” Fidds insisted, unwavering in his generosity.

“Alright alright!” Stan rolled his eyes. “Just don’t make a scene.” 

Fiddleford watched eagerly as Stan opened the paperbag and removed his gift. It was a thick jacket with red sleeves and a hood. On the forearm of each sleeve was an orange fin. There was a long fin that ran along the back and on to the hood of the jacket. The hood also had a pair of large cartoon-y eyes. The chest of the jacket had a gradient that went from purple to blue. The fabric all over had a scale pattern, bringing the fish look of the jacket together.

“What the hell am I looking at?” Stan asked, unable to stop himself chuckling.

“That store has some of the best novelty outfits and stuff you can find.” Fiddleford said with an ear to ear grin. “I bought my boss a pineapple Hawaiian shirt with a pair of pink palm tree sunglasses to match from that store.” 

 “That sounds awful.” Stan chuckled. 

“He said the same thing.” Fiddleford said. “So, do you like it?” 

“Let me try it on first.” Stan said. “Gotta make sure the teeth aren’t inside to stab me.”

“I think that’s the role of the zipper.” 

Fiddleford watched as Stanley slipped the jacket over his thin T-shirt. It hung a little loosely on his body, but Fiddleford could see a small smile spread across Stan’s mouth as the warmth of the jacket began to spread across his body.

“Weeell?” He asked, unable to hide his giddy grin

“It’s nice.” Stan said in a quiet voice. “Real nice.”

Fiddleford gave Stan a firm handshake and wished him well. He quickly made his way to his car to return to his work. What he didn't see as he pulled out and waved one more goodbye to Stan was the man desperately trying to hold back his tears at the first real gift he’s received in years.

Comforting Cuddles

With the long day behind you, Stan and yourself decided to retire to bed together. Hand in hand like love sick puppies still going on their first date. You would have told Stan the thought, but you were enjoying the warmth of his hand in yours too much to want to spoil it with mockery.

You part hands momentarily, but even that felt like too long as the pair of you took off your clothing. Not torn off in the excitement of a night of passion, instead you left your clothing in a pile on the floor, ready to be added to tomorrow's laundry.

Stan got into bed first, lifting the cover to let you follow him, which you did with little hesitation. You wrapped your arms around his waist as the pair of you got comfortable on the mattress. You peppered the back of his neck with kisses leading up to his cheek.

He sighed, letting himself melt into your embrace. A silent admission of trust, that he needn't hold up and barriers around you as he allowed you to shower him with affection.

You spent a few minutes kissing him up and down before he placed a hand on your face to push you back.

"Jeez, what's with you today?" He asked sarcastically.

"I just want to make sure that you know how much I love you" you replied innocently, placing a hand on his chest.

"You plan to keep me up at night with kisses to do that?" He asked, quirking up his eye brow.

"If that's what it takes to let you know how much I love you, than yes." You smirked, planting a kiss on his lips.

"Ugh, I knew I should have been careful when dating a sap like you." He groaned, but begrudgingly let you nuzzle up to his back.

"You looked really down today," you said after a beat. "I wanted to help cheer you up"

"Babe-" Stan cut himself off. "It's not that I don't trust you. I just-"

"You know, if you're having trouble I can help you right? I'm not as smart as Ford but a partner's job is to support one another in their time of need." You spoke gently into his ear. He gave a heavy sigh before speaking again. "It's been a month and we still haven't made any progress on the portal. It feels like I'm just hitting wall after wall."

"It's normal to struggle." You said.

"But if I don't get him back-"

"He didn't build that thing in a day Stan" your scratched his hair. "Taking some time to repair it without the instructions isn't going to be exactly easy."

"I feel like such a failure. Like, maybe if I had paid attention for once in school then maybe things could have been different." His voice was soft but shaking.

You frowned, pulling him closer to you so that he could feel your chest against his back. Your heart beats gently in tandem with his own as you let him vent his frustrations about his failures and inadequacies.

"I've just been on the run since then, and now I'm thrust into this, trying to understand something that I doubt anyone could." He sighed. "I wish I could see him. Even for a moment."

"What would you do?" You asked, rubbing gently against his scalp.

"I'd say I was sorry for always being a screw up. That I'd go back and kick myself in the head for not wanting him to go to his fancy school. To say that I'm sorry he didn't have a better brother." He was added under his breath.

"And you'll get your chance to say that you're sorry and prove that you're a good brother," you said. He grunted. "You're the most stubborn person I know. If anyone can make it work. It will be you. I know you won't give Up no matter how long it takes you to get him back. And I'll be here with it every step of the way." You added one final kiss to his neck for the night.

"But why?" He asked. Not rolling over.

"Because," you flicked his nose. "I love you. And if we were reversed I know you'd have done the same for me."

"Yeah. That sounds right." Stanley said calmly. "Thank you."

"Anytime my love. Any time" you said cuddling into his back, taking in his pine tree and cigar scent before closing your eyes for a well deserved rest. It was a good several minutes later, when you were sleeping soundly with your gentle snore filling the room, that Stanley finally spoke before closing his own eyes for the night. "I love you too."

The Mysterious Origin of the Mister Pines'

This is a fic based off of @jackyjackdraws Mystery husbands Au, WITH A TWIST! Intead of meeting Stan in his older years, Kevin grew up with Stan and Ford in Glass Shard beach. I loved the premise, but I had one question: What would happen if what happened, happened? And here we have my own answer to that question. I hope you enjoy!

(also on Ao3!)

**********

The last of the winter snow crunched softly as a single car parked itself in the middle of the woods. The strong oak trees towered high above, as through holding up the sky itself. There was a beat before Kevin Griffth stepped out of his car and into the first day of spring in Oregon. The smell of real trees was a breath of fresh air compared to the artificial air freshener in his car. 

He took a look around, the woods were thick and seemingly never ending. Kevin turned his gaze back down the dirt road, the nearest building was a mile back. A cool wind blew through the trees, and Kevin pulled his coat tighter over himself. His eyes wandered back to the wooden shack, it had a satellite dish pointing out of the roof, a radio tower and other weird tech stuff poking out of it.

“Looks like somewhere Ford would hole up,” Kevin smirked. He leaned against his car, trying his best to ignore the twist forming in this stomach. 

He took another deep breath before walking over to the mesh door and giving a firm knock that sound echoed through the house. 

After a few moments, a man stepped out of the front door. His hair was short and brown, his jaw was strong and squared off nicely. He wore black suit and a matching pair of six-fingered gloves. A pair of square glasses sat on his large nose completing his look. Kevin gulped, that was definitely Stanford Pines.

“Listen, I don't need any more life insurance funds. So take your forms—” Stanford’s voice was gravelly and stern. The minute his eyes fell on Kevin his deep frown lifted into a smile. “Kevin?”

“In the flesh.” Kevin scratched the back of his neck. 

“How have you been?” Stanford approached Kevin with a wide smile.

“How have I been? Stanford, how are you, lad?” Kevin asked, concerned that the grief had driven Stanford into denial.  

“Me? I’m peachy. Feelin’ like a million bucks.” Stanford waved his hand.

“Really?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I get to see one of my best friends for the first time in who knows how long.”

“I know you probably don’t want me to feel bad, Stanford. Like you said, we haven’t seen each other for a while. So I understand if you forgot to invite me but you don’t need to pretend that your brother’s funeral wasn’t last week.” Kevin said calmly. He placed a hand on Stanford’s shoulder, offering an understanding smile.

Stanford looked like a deer in headlights. Kevin remembered that look in Stanley’s eyes when he was reminded about homework he missed. He stared at Kevin for a moment before his smile returned. It was much wider than before, unnaturally so.

“Yeah, that was…sad, but you know Stan. He wouldn't want me too mopey about him croaking,” Stanford said nonchalantly.

“Are you kidding me, lad? Your own brother died, and you don’t even feel sad?” Kevin stared in disbelief. 

“Of course I’m sad, but it’s not like I can do anything about him being dead.”

“But, he’s your brother, your twin…my—how can you move on so quickly? Don’t you feel anything? Were you that upset after what happened?” Kevin’s voice hitched. He couldn’t believe that this was really the same bookworm he had known in his youth.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Stanford narrowed his eyes.

“I don’t know what happened the night that Stan disappeared, but it’s been ten years. I know a grudge can be hard to let go of, but for goodness sake lad, he’s your brother,” Kevin pleaded.

“Why do you care?” Stanford’s smile fell, his brow furrowed. “The bastard was a swindling grifter. He got what he deserved. The world is better off without him. Now that he’s gone I can finally get my work done without anything getting in my way.” Stanford stared at his gloved hands, closing them into tight fists.

Kevin’s jaw dropped.

This was far from what he had imagined would happen on the drive over. He had hoped to console a grieving friend and reconnect, or in the worst case, be told that he wasn’t invited on purpose. However, the words that left Stanford’s lips struck Kevin’s heart like a series of knives. One after the other, Kevin’s stomach began to twist tighter. He wanted nothing more than to go home and leave this mess behind him. Go to sleep and wake up ignorant to the loss he’d suffered.

But that loss was why he came here. He was hoping to find out more, perhaps be given the opportunity to grieve. Instead all he found was desecration. 

“I loved him,” Kevin said quietly. 

“What?” Stanford raised an eyebrow.

Kevin felt the pain in his heart spread throughout his chest. This warmth wasn’t the same as earlier. The weight of a week's worth of pent up emotions caught up with him and he glared at the man before him. His nails dug into the palms of his hands as warm tears began to prick the corners of his eyes.

“Don’t act surprised, Stanford,” Kevin spat. “You were there when he and I agreed to be boyfriends. You agreed to help us keep it a secret from your parents.”

“That—”

“Those were some of my happiest days.” Kevin didn’t bother to hold back the hot tears as they fell down his cheeks. “We spent so much time together, running through the beach, studying for our exams, getting milkshakes. He wasn’t perfect. He made mistakes, but damn it all he tried his best.”

“Kevin—” Stanford stepped forward, arm outstretched. 

“I don’t wanna hear another word from you!” Kevin could hardly breathe, his chest felt tight as he struggled to speak between sobs. He pushed Stanford away. “I drove here from Jersey. I spent a week hopping from motel to motel, driving non-stop. Just hoping, praying to catch the tiniest reminder of my best friends. I don’t know what happened that night after the science fair, but whatever it was doesn’t justify treating your brother like this.”

“I—”

“You’re not the man I thought you were. You’re not the friend I once had!” Kevin jabbed his finger into Stanford’s chest. “I didn’t even know that Stan had died until your mother returned from the funeral still crying her eyes out. My own Ma spent a week comforting her. Did you know that? My own Ma found out about my ex-boyfriend being dead before I did.”

Kevin took a shaky breath trying to compose himself. He stepped away from Stanford. His face long with a forlorn frown. “Maybe I should have taken that as a sign that you had changed. I was hopeful. I wanted to think that you had just forgotten. Turns out I was wrong! You’ve just become the same bitter bastard that your father was.”

Stanford stepped back, his eyes wide with horror. He blinked a few times, and Kevin could not tell if it was a trick of the light, but he thought he saw tears starting to form in the corners of his eyes. Part of him wanted to apologize, wrap his arms around his old friend and forgive the past; but his chest still burned with anger and was tight from sadness. Stanford had crossed a line, and he deserved to feel bad.

“So what have you got to say now Stanford?” Kevin asked after a beat, cheeks flushed red.

“I thought you moved on,” Stanford said quietly. 

“What?”

Stanford breathed sharply, he stared at Kevin with a pained gaze.

Kevin watched as Stanford opened and closed his mouth multiple times before staring at his feet. There was a moment of silence as the trees rustled in the wind.

“What do you mean that you thought I moved on, Stanford?” Kevin insisted. He leaned closer, to get a better look at Stanford’s face.

“Just go home Kevin,” Stanford said slowly. He was unwilling to raise his gaze to meet Kevin’s. “Please.” “I spent a week of non-stop driving to get here. I’m not being sent home until I get what I want.” 

“What do you want? Money? The death certificate? Do you want me to dig up the cadaver so you can see the empty casket?” Stanford stepped forward, pushing himself into Kevin’s face.

“Empty—”

“Damn it.” Stanford turned away.

“What’s going on here, Stanford?”

“Please, just go away,” Stanford begged in a weak voice. He raised his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Without his glasses in the way, Kevin could clearly see that Stanford had begun to cry.

“So you really did care.”

“Of course I fucking cared. I never stopped caring. But I made one mistake and then I lost everything. Then when I got a second chance, I screwed up and lost it all over again,” Stanford cried. 

As he spoke, something clicked in Kevin’s mind. He took a moment to observe Stanford’s gloved hand as it reached to wipe away his tears. The second pinky was much stiffer than the others. It hardly moved when Stanford reached for his eyes. Almost as though the sixth finger in that glove wasn’t being filled properly.

“No.” Kevin shook his head, placing his hand over his mouth. His heart fluttered with hope. “You can’t be… Stanley?”

“Is this some big joke?” Stanford scowled at Kevin. He raised a gloved hand at his face. “Did you spend so long on the road that you forgot how to count?” Kevin’s heart beat loudly as his hand reached out for Stanford’s, his throat felt dry as he felt the fabric of the glove against his palm. ‘Stanford’ was taken aback, but before he could pull away, Kevin gave a gentle squeeze of his hand. All but one finger felt soft under the fabric. The last felt hard, like a pen had been forced into the glove. 

“You really are Stanley aren’t you, lad?” Kevin said slowly. A wave of confusion, relief and excitement washed over him. 

“Kevin, please don’t stick around. I…I’ve already fucked up with Ford. I can’t lose you too.” Stanley fell to his knees, tears running down his cheeks.

“Not again.” Kevin wrapped his arms around Stanley. “I lost you once without explanation. I’m not letting that happen again.”

“But…”

“Stanley, I came all the way out here for you. I chose to do that. No matter what you did, I’ll forgive you. Just…please tell me what's going on.” Kevin pressed his forehead against Stanley’s.

Kevin felt Stanley wrap his arms around him and lean into the embrace. He heard his old friend let out a heavy sob and heave, trying to breathe as the weight of years of abandonment caught up to him, afraid that this tiny moment of comfort would be torn from him just like his brother was. He tightened his hold, silently praying that if this was some sick dream that he could stay asleep. Soon Stan was pressing his face into Kevin’s shoulder, sobbing loudly not caring about his facade anymore.

“You’ve been through a lot since we last saw one another, haven't you?” Kevin spoke calmly. He rubbed large circles into Stanley’s back. 

It was several minutes before Stanley was able to compose himself. He was out of breath, red in the face, but slowly, gingerly he picked himself up. He pulled off his gloves and pocketed them, revealing his five-fingered hands. Wordlessly he took Kevin’s hand in his own and led him into the shack. The pair walked past several rooms before arriving in the kitchen.

Kevin followed along, taking a seat at the kitchen table and watched as Stanley cluttered through the drawers and cupboards. Leaving Stanley to his own devices, Kevin took in his surroundings.

The kitchen itself was rather clean, a couple of plates sat in the sink waiting to be washed and the table had a few aged stains in strange colours. Before he could dare to touch a bright green stain that was shaped like a human ear, a mug of hot chocolate was placed in front of Kevin. 

Kevin looked up and saw Stanley sitting opposite him. Nursing a matching mug. Stanley’s eyes didn’t rise from his mug. Kevin could see that he was deep in thought and gave him a moment to gather himself.

“I didn’t have anything fancy… but I remembered how your Ma would make hot cocoa when I used to spend the night,” Stanley said quietly.

Reaching out slowly, Kevin took the mug into his hands. It was warm. 

Kevin took a sip and felt a wave of nostalgia crash into him like a truck. It tasted sweet, it was creamy, and felt like he had been sent back to those old days where things were simpler. It wasn’t perfect, but Stanley had never perfected the recipe no matter how much he insisted that he had. 

Kevin raised his gaze to see Stanley staring at his own mug, twiddling his thumbs.

“It’s delicious.” Kevin said.

Stanley didn’t respond.

“Stanley. Please talk to me.” Kevin reached out, placing his hand in Stanley’s.

Stanley flinched. He fearfully raised his gaze to meet Kevin's before dropping it once again in shame.

“I… I don’t know what to say.” Stanley admitted.

“Can we start with the beginning?”

“Oh boy. That’s a can of worms.” Stanley sighed.

“We have an entire factory of cans waiting to be opened, might as well start somewhere.” 

“Remember that science fair that Stanford was all excited for?” Stanley fearfully looked up at Kevin.

“Yes, I recall.”

“Well turns out he did such a wiz-bang job that some fancy Schmancy college wanted to give him a scholarship and all that. It all woulda been perfect, if someone hadn’t fucked everything up.” Stanley sighed deeply. “Long story short, Ford’s project was totaled. His scholarship chance was canned and everyone was pissed. Pops was sick of me, and that was the straw that broke his back. He threw me my old gym bag and told me to get lost.”

“Wait…is that why you disappeared?” Kevin covered his mouth.

“Pops said I wasn't welcome back until I made back the money I lost the family. So I…left.” Stanley placed his face in his hands.

“Stanley, I’m sorry you had to deal with that.” Kevin reached out a hand for Stan’s shoulder. “But you know you would have had a place with me and my Ma right?”

“I thought about it when I was halfway over the border, but I wanted to stick it to my old man. I wanted to show him that I wasn't some freeloader and that I could make it on my own.”

“Oh Stanley.” Kevin muttered.

“And that’s just the beginning.” Stanley blew out a breath. “A month ago, I got a letter from Ford sayin’ he needs help,and I thought ‘hey, it’s been ten years maybe he’s over everything.’” Stanley paused and then sighed, “This next part would be easier if I just showed you,” Stanley said with a sigh.

He pushed himself up from the table. His mug of hot chocolate sat untouched as he walked out of the room, beckoning Kevin to follow. Kevin found himself led through a door to a wide open room. There were some tacky postcards, hastily made novelty T-shirts and some crudely designed key chains that hung from some old wooden shelves.

“Is this a gift shop?” Kevin asked. He turned to find Stanley fiddling with a heavy metal door.

“I’ll…I’ll get to that, for now you’re gonna wanna follow me ‘cause trust me, it’s a lot to take in.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and held the door open for Kevin.

Kevin eyed the dark hallway behind the door. “Stanley, what have you gotten yourself into?”

“I don’t know.” Stanley sounded tired. 

Kevin watched Stanley disappear into the hallway. He waited a couple of moments before following after him. 

As they descended, Stanley regaled the tail of his life on the road. The crimes he commited, the many names he took. As they entered the elevator to the basement, Stanley began to talk of his arrival to Gravity Falls. The confrontation with his brother. The revelation of the portal. Of their argument, the painful branding and the abrupt disappearance of Stanford through the bright light of the portal. 

When Stanley finished talking, the pair were standing before the giant triangular portal in the basement. 

Kevin stared in awe. The portal towered over him, reaching several feet to the ceiling above. The basement itself was cold and unwelcoming, a shiver ran down his spine as he looked around the room. The ground was strewn with cut wires, loose tools and screws. Kevin could tell that Stanley had spent countless hours trying to get this terrifying machine started. It felt surreal, his mind raced with so many thoughts.

“This is all so much.” Kevin said slowly.

“I…I wish you didn’t have to see me like this.” Stanley said glumly. 

There was a beat. Kevin stared at his reflection in the metal portal frame. Behind him he could see Stanley staring at his own hands. While his mind felt like a tangled mess of fairy lights, Kevin knew one thing, he had come here to comfort and reconnect with a Pines twin after ten years. He took a deep breath before turning to face Stanley.

“You’re stubborn as you’ve ever been, aren’t you lad?” Kevin sighed. He slowly walked towards Stanley.

“Too stubborn for anyone’s good.”

“You made some big mistakes,” Kevin agreed, walking past the discarded tools, “but look around you. If you were a bad person you wouldn’t have been trying to bring your brother back.”

“But—”

“You might have acted rashly and cut me out of your life without hearing my piece—”

 Stanley gulped. His head was hanging in shame once more. Kevin, now standing in front of him, cupped a hand under Stanley’s chin and tiltedtilted his head up to look him in the eyes. 

“—but you were trying to fix your mistakes. I’m upset, and I’m hurt, but now that I know what you’ve been through, or at least some of it. I’m willing to forgive you.” 

“Why?” Stanley cried. He stepped back and pushed Kevin’s hand out of his face. “Why are you trying so hard to be nice to me? I’ve been horrible to you. Even when we were together as kids. I was always terrible. So why don’t you just leave me alone in this shit?”

“Because I love you.” 

“What?” Stan furrowed his brow.

“I loved you when we were younger, through thick and thin we were there for one another back then. And now, looking at you and how much you’ve grown, yet still stayed the same. I can still feel the warmth in my heart that I felt back then.” Kevin smiled fondly. “Stanley Pines, I love you.”

“Dammit Kevin I’m no good for you. I’ve lied, I've cheated, I've stolen. I’m a crook through and through. You deserve someone worth your time.” Stanley cried.

There was a pause.

“Do you hate me?” Kevin asked bluntly.

“Wha-no of course not.” 

“Did you stop loving me?”

Stanley let out a sigh. “I still love you. Yes.”

“Then why shouldn't we try being together once more.” Kevin said.

“Kevin, please just trust me. If you stay with me this will be the rest of your life!” Stanley pointed to the portal.

“Then at least I’ll be spending my life with someone I care about.” Kevin replied.

“I…”

Kevin wrapped his arms around Stanley once again. He gave a tight squeeze before the other man could protest. 

“You’re scared of hurting me. I get it. But I’m a grown man now. I can handle being hurt,” Kevin whispered into Stan’s ear.

Stanley wrapped his arms around Kevin, returning the tight embrace. The pair stood in the middle of the basement, enjoying the comfort in one another that they had sorely missed. After a few minutes Kevin pulled back and held onto Stanley’s hands.

“Stanley, I want this. I want us.” Kevin said earnestly.

“But—”

“I know you’re afraid.” Kevin cast a glance at the portal. “I am too. But if you’re with me, I feel like I can take on anything.” There was a beat before Kevin continued. “I love you Stanley Pines. There’s no changing that. But if you feel that you don’t want me in your life, then I will not force myself here. But, if only this once, would you give me a chance?”

Kevin looked into Stanley’s eyes. They were surrounded by heavy bags, yet behind the stress and tiredness, Kevin could still see a shine of hope. A spark of joy that he hadn’t seen in ten years. He wanted to hug him again. He wanted to hold him here until all his pain and sleeplessness had left him. Kevin squeezed his hands and watched as Stanley returned the gesture. There was a calm silence between the two before Stanley spoke once more.

“I don’t know how we’ll get this to work. But I missed you Kev. I really did.” Stanley reached out, hugging Kevin one final time, burying his face into his shoulder.

“I missed you too Stan.” Kevin said softly. “I missed you too.”

****

Thank you to my Beta Readers @snapback-gravity-falls and @bluestuffeh for helping me out with this fic!