"It is a nice cover," said Ford, looking over Dipper's new journal, the pages clean and white, with no folds or tears. That was sure to be changed before the two saw each other next, which was really a good thing, but there was something nostalgic about seeing an empty book again. "You'll have to keep me updated on what you find." He handed it back to his nephew, who took it with a gratified smile.
"Sure thing, Grunkle Ford."
There was that word again. At first, Ford hadn't understood it fully, but the more he was addressed by it, the more it seemed to fit. Made him more of a "Pines," in a way.
"I gotta say," Dipper continued. "I'm glad to be going back, but California's gonna seem even more boring compared to here."
Ford let out a small laugh and looked over at Mabel, "Well, I think between the two of you, you can make it weird enough to tide you over." His grandniece gave him a small, but bright smile in response. He couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt upon seeing her. He had tried to make it clear that he loved both of the kids, and admired Mabel's positivity and confidence, but throughout the time he'd spent with them, his tendency toward isolation had kept him from sharing much of himself with her. All things considered, he hadn't even told her brother all that much, and what he did tell was still kept secret from the rest of the family. Even in the days following Weirdmageddon, they were too focused on helping Stanley recover his mind to have a whole lot of old-fashioned quality time. Seeing how the kids bid Stan and their friends farewell made that pretty obvious.
At some point, Mabel had gotten used to the smell of chlorine. She wasn't throwing up often, but lately her nights had been so long and tormenting that she'd found herself staring into the toilet bowl for what must have been hours total, held in place by the fear that she'd only get sick again once she got back into bed. A few times, Dipper sat with her, not just to talk her through it, but also because he was afraid of what he'd see if he went to sleep. The week before, in California, they'd faked stability long enough for their parents to approve of their trip up to Gravity Falls for spring break. It wasn't like their entire lives were like this now; it was just hard to predict when it would flare up again for one of them. Of course, it had also helped that Stan and Ford were already going to the trouble of docking in Garibaldi and driving in for the week. After sleeping for most of the bus ride, the kids were pretty much golden, at least for the day.
Once the Pines family had had their reunions, - hugs, noogies, and fist bumps abound, in addition to a somewhat uncomfortable hello between two certain members - they dispersed somewhat throughout the TV room. Abuelita was forcing an ever-courteous Melody to look through a stack of Ramirez family photo albums, Wendy was repeatedly kicking Soos' butt in Slapjack, and the biological Pineses were gathered around the armchair watching Tiger Fist reruns. For the first time in a while, things felt kind of normal. The only thing that really felt off was Mabel, but Ford surmised that it wasn't his place to say anything, especially since Dipper and Stan didn't seem to notice.
Melody snorted from the table, "Okay, that's pretty awesome." A picture in one of the books showed a preteen Soos on a roller coaster, asleep in a crowd of terrified-looking theme park patrons. "I can never do fast rides; I pretty much wet myself."
"Oh, yeah, the Rocket Runner!" Soos looked up from the cards. "Heh, didn't cousin Reggie throw up after that one?"
"No, no," Abuelita waved him off. "It was during the loop."
"HA," Mabel cackled from the chair. "Just like Dipper on the ferris wheel!" She grabbed the scrapbook from her backpack and opened to a page with a photo of her and Dipper at the age of seven sitting in a ferris wheel car, one child giving a colossal smile, and the other leaning over the side, looking miserable. "That was a fun day."
"O-kay," Dipper cut in sternly, taking the book from his sister and shutting it. "That's enough of that." Before she could respond, they were both jostled by Stan getting up from his spot in between them.
"Welp," he said as he pushed himself up. "Don't need any more 'a that conversation. I'm gonna go grab a soda." Waddles jumped up onto the chair with a determined snort and settled into Stan's place as he left for the kitchen.
The contents of the fridge had changed drastically since Soos and Melody had taken over the Shack. The packages of bacon and Pitt Colas that had once filled the shelves were replaced with salad mix, Lunchables, and was that a protein shake? He absentmindedly stared up and down the shelves a few more times before everything turned to static.
"Alright, let's see," he said to himself. "You're in someone's kitchen." He glanced in the fridge again. "Probably not yours." He shut the door and looked around the room, trying to make sense of his surroundings. A sink full of dirty dishes that had no doubt piled up over the last several days; a refrigerator door covered in alphabet magnets and a post-it note reminding someone to pick up somebody at the bus stop. Judging by the names, it must've been an old lady and...her dog, maybe? In any case, none of it helped. Nothing around him gave him any kind of direction until he heard laughter from an adjacent room. He followed the chorus to a room full of carefree, smiling faces. He tried to get his bearings without causing concern.
"Heh, what's goin' on in here?"
A kid in a hat a little too big for his head replied, "The tiger just punched a cop; we were saying it was too bad you missed it."
Another little kid sitting next to the first one added, "Don't worry, Grunkle Stan, we can find the scene online later."
"Grunkle?" As soon as the nonsense word left his mouth, he knew he should have kept his mouth shut. The two kids, along with a gray-haired man sitting near them, stopped and looked up at him, appearing startled.
Why did you ask them that why did they say that I'm supposed to know what that means aren't I what does that mean...
The kids glanced at each other worriedly, but the old man seemed to understand what was happening.
"Stanley," he said calmly. "Do you know where you are?" At that, the rest of the strangers in the room looked up with the same concern, with the exception of a large man in a tee shirt and cargo shorts, who slammed his hand down onto a pile of playing cards on the table in front of him.
"Hey, I got one!" He looked around to see if everyone else had heard his achievement, only to be met with silence. "Wh-what's everybody lookin' at? What's up?"