Chapter Text
When Dipper told Mabel that he would be coming back home with her, and would talk to Ford about a full-time apprenticeship when he was older, he only had a second to brace himself before he was tackled to the ground and his ears accosted by incoherent joyful squealing.
He just grinned and patted his sister’s back until she calmed down enough to release him.
When she did, her jubilation faded a little bit, replaced by worry.
“...You’re not giving it up just cuz of what I said, are you?”
Dipper’s eyes widened. “No, no, I promise! I really do wanna watch you try to make it through your awkward teenage years.”
Mabel snorted and shoved him. “Oh, like you’re gonna have it any easier!”
“Please, Mabel, I’ve been told that I’m very mature for my age.” Unfortunately, his voice chose to make a very impressive crack halfway through the sentence, undermining the authenticity of the statement. Both of them were reduced to hopeless giggles for a few minutes.
Eventually Dipper rubbed his eyes on his arm, and took a few deep breaths as he went to sit down on the porch’s steps; Mabel followed suit.
“It’s just…” he hesitated, “...we don’t have all the same problems as Stan and Ford did growing up, thankfully. For one thing, I like to think Mom and Dad are way better people than theirs were.”
Mabel stuck out her tongue. “If we ever see Blendin again, I’m gonna borrow his time tape so I can go back and punch their dad in his stupid face.”
Dipper refrained from pointing out that the time tape didn’t move in space as well as time, so she would have to be in New Jersey before she could do that. He just smiled a little bit, before going on, “And I know after high school, you’ll probably get into some really great art school in New York or something. Everyone in our family believes in you and knows that you’ve got a bright future ahead of you, just as much as I hopefully do.”
Mabel visibly blossomed at his praise.
“And even if we’re not always living in the same state, I’d still want to stay in contact with you. Obviously I would; you’re my best friend.”
Dipper felt a little embarrassed at being this open about his affection, but kept going resolutely.
“...But I’m not ready for that big a step yet. I jumped into saying yes to the apprenticeship too fast, without thinking about what it would all mean first.”
“Also…” he looked down at his shoes self-consciously, “...Ford kind of made me realize, during Weirdmageddon, that as great as he is...he still has a lot of issues to work out with Grunkle Stan, and he probably wouldn’t if he had me around hanging on his every word all the time.”
Mabel chewed thoughtfully on a strand of hair for a moment, wearing an expression of uncharacteristic solemnity; then she scooted close enough to wrap her arm around his shoulders.
“...Thanks, bro-bro,” she whispered. Then she shivered. “Ugh, is this what becoming mature feels like? Having to have serious conversations like this all the time?”
Dipper shuddered in identical fake horror. “I hope not. Ugh, we better go binge a couple episodes of Duck-tective before we start wanting to do taxes and watch political debates!”
Mabel giggled, and hurriedly got to her feet. “Race you inside!”
“Hey, no fair!” Dipper chased after her as fast as he could.
Once they’d calmed down a bit, Stan and Ford ended up just sitting side by side on the bed, shoulders pressed together in a very old, familiar fashion, and just...talked.
About everything and nothing; they just said whatever came into their heads, far into the afternoon and all the way to early evening.
All the things they’d wanted to say to each other ever since Ford came back and hadn’t let themselves because of pride and hurt and stubbornness and a lot of other stupid reasons.
Lots of apologies.
Lots of stories.
Ford pulled up a map of the world on one of his pieces of otherworldly technology, and pointed out all the anomalous places he wanted to visit; this obviously included the Bermuda Triangle, whenever they got finished investigating the Arctic, and he had a few crazy theories about what might be the cause of the weirdness there based on some of his experiences in other parts of the multiverse.
Stan bet a hundred bucks on his favorite theory being the correct one, despite Ford’s protest that he didn’t really have money from this dimension anymore.
(“Then you better hope that one of the other theories is right, shouldn’t you?”
Ford punched him lightly in the arm.)
When they ran out of words for the time being, they just leaned against each other, enjoying the silence that wasn’t hostile or awkward.
Stan was actually on the verge of falling asleep when Ford said in alarm, “I just remembered! The childrens’ birthday is this weekend!”
Stan forced his eyes open sleepily. “Yup. Good ol’ August 31st.”
“We should do something for them!” Ford insisted, digging his fingers through his floof. “We-I have so many missed birthdays to catch up on-”
Stan held up a calming hand. “Relax, Poindexter. I got it taken care of.”
“What are you talking about?”
“...Well…”
The day before
Stan looked with somewhat bewildered eyes at the small man with the long eyelashes who’d come to visit him. “...There somethin’ I can do for you, Tyler?”
“I came to ask you that, Mr. Pines! You and your family and friends are our heroes!” Mayor Cutebiker said in a voice that was far too chirpy for this hour of the morning, standing in the doorway of Stan’s office with his hands clasped together under his chin. “I was just wondering if there was anything our town can do to repay you for your services?”
A million possibilities flashed through Stan’s mind...before he shrugged.
“Eh, I think we’re getting on okay. Just...needa figure out what I’m gonna do for my niece and nephew before they gotta head back ta Piedmont. Seein’ as their last day in Gravity Falls’s their birthday and all.”
Tyler let out a delighted gasp. “That’s perfect!”
Ford gave Stan an askance look.
“You tricked the mayor into organizing a party for Dipper and Mabel’s birthday?”
“Hey, I never said he had to!” Stan smiled his “innocent” smile. “I just happened ta mention that two of the town’s heroes who helped prevent the apocalypse were havin’ a birthday this weekend, and he practically begged me ta let him organize it. Besides, maybe it’ll be good for morale or whatever. Pretty sure this whole Weirdmageddon thing freaked everyone out more than a little, and it’s hard ta sell merchandise to rubes who’re too traumatized to appreciate it. A party’s the perfect thing for-for helping people feel better and stuff.”
Ford wasn’t fooled, and Stan knew that he wasn’t. But he just let his head drop back onto Ford’s shoulder, and closed his eyes. After a few seconds, Ford followed suit.
Neither of them even woke up when Dipper and Mabel draped a blanket over them and took a couple dozen photos.
The morning of their thirteenth birthday, the kids barely had time to get up and dressed before there was a sudden knock at the door, and Grunkles Stan and Ford came bustling in with a couple of blindfolds in his hand.
“You two gotta put these on before we let ya go downstairs.”
Mabel brightened. “Ooh, are you taking us fishing again to celebrate our birthday?”
Stan gave her a stern look. “Sorry, no spoilers!”
He waited until they’d both tied the blindfolds firmly over their eyes, with no room to peek, and then Dipper felt one of his grunkle’s hands wrap around his and lead him out of the room.
“Careful, we’re at the stairs,” Stan warned, and they slowly made their way down, careful not to trip over them.
As they reached the ground floor, Dipper thought he could hear whispering noises, and the sounds of feet rustling, but he wasn’t given much time to dwell on it before he was being herded through the front door.
“Okay, open ‘em up!”
Dipper pulled down his blindfold-and was greeted with an enthusiastic “SURPRISE!!!!” from countless voices.
What seemed like the entire town was gathered in the front yard of the Mystery Shack, under an enormous banner with “HAPPY BIRTHDAY DIPPER & MABEL PINES” on it in brightly colored letters.
At some point-maybe in the middle of the night? How the heck had he and Mabel not been woken up?-McGucket’s robot had been set up so that its tentacles were draped around the clearing like a huge metal canopy. Each one was decorated with streamers and lights, and in the middle of everything was a table overladen with food-including a birthday cake with a candle shaped like the number 13.
The children just stood and gaped for a second, trying to register what they were seeing.
Finally Mabel asked in amazement, “...You got the whole town to get together just to celebrate our birthday?”
Stan made a gruff sound. “Pfft, I didn’t get them to do nuthin’. It was the mayor’s idea.” He didn’t notice the way Ford, who was standing behind him, rolled his eyes. “Guess you’re kinda local celebrities now.”
“Of course, we’re also doing this to celebrate all our town heroes!” Tyler said, gesturing to the other people who had participated in creating the spirit warrior: Wendy, leaning against one of the tentacles with a laid-back smile; McGucket, tinkering with some wiring until Tate elbowed him so he would look up and wave at everyone; Pacifica, holding a pair of wrapped presents in her arms and looking a little self-conscious about it; Robbie, who had ultimately dyed his white streak red, making his hair look kind of like Tambry’s; Soos, beaming like the giant god of happiness he was; Gideon, still in his famous blue suit but not actively trying to get in the spotlight for once; and finally back to the Pines family. “Everyone owes you a debt of gratitude, even if not all of us completely understand what happened! But never mind all that-we were wondering if you kids would like to git-git some birthday cake for breakfast!”
Dipper and Mabel headed for the table, and let the celebration begin.