Stanley Pines cursed his big, shaky old man fingers for the fifth consecutive time that day. Getting old was not as fun as it seemed in books or movies. Your body basically turned against you. Well, on the bright side, he wasn't as bad as the other guys who were losing their hearing.
Wait, no, he had hearing aids. Um, he had his sight though, right? Nah, his was awful. He couldn't even tell the difference between a car and a bear.
Hm… Well, he wasn't loosing his memories. In fact, he was more gaining them back than anything else. It was a hard process though. Going from not being able to remember his name to peachy-perfect couldn't happen in a day, after all.
Luckily, he had his family to help him. Mabel and Dipper were always there for him after he had lost his memories. Though, neither of them were quite as eager to help as his brother was.
He remembered during the first week of loosing his memories how he had tried so hard. Talking to him daily and hardly ever giving Stan a moment of privacy. While it was annoying back then having some stranger following him around like a lost dog, he now appreciated the gesture. Now, thanks to his family, some of the holes in his head were filled. Even if they were only from the past summer and a some of his childhood.
Speaking of summer, the rising temperature hinted at its arrival. He couldn't wait to see his niece and nephew again. Video chats with awful reception got old fast. Stan and Ford had already arranged with their parents for the twins to stay with them in Gravity Falls again this summer. It was unfortunate that Soos wasn't going to be there, but he had told them it'd be fine. He was going to visit some distant relatives with his grandmother in Spain anyway.
So the Mystery Shack was going to be all theirs.
Stan felt a rush of energy shiver through his body. So much was planned in his head already, he couldn't wait for it. The best part about this summer was that he could get to spend some time with Ford this time.
"Lee!" he heard Stanford shout. "Did you finish tying up that net?"
Stan looked down at the poorly constructed net in his lap. He cursed his fingers a sixth time. "Sorry, Pointdexter. I, uh, got distracted."
Ford took a seat next to Stanley, the gentle waves of the ocean rocking them slowly back and forth. He looked worried. "Do you need to talk about it?"
Stanley just rolled his eyes. "I didn't remember anything new, don't worry. Just..." he paused, looking at the horizon, grinning widely. "Thinking. 'Bout this summer, ya'know? It's going to be exciting, I just know it."
There was a moment of peaceful silence. Stan was happy that his brother was here with him. It meant he wasn't alone. Being alone never made him feel good. Now, being surrounded by those you love, best feeling in the world, hands down. Though, winning at gambling wasn't too bad either.
The silence was interrupted by Ford clearing his throat. "Would you like me to help you with those knots? We'll need these ropes for when we get around to the Gulf of Mexico."
Stan handed Ford some of the rope. "Sure thing. You seem to be rushing though. We aren't going to be there for a couple of weeks at the very least."
"I don't see a problem with being well prepared."
The two of them returned to the peaceful silence, watching as the sun slowly lowered. When the sun was just starting to disappear over the horizon and the two twins were almost done, Stanley stood up, leaving his half of the net behind on the seats. Leaning against the boat's railing, he watched as the sun finished painting the sky with shades of purple, orange, and pink.
Sunsets were one of Stanley's favorite things. While he didn't have a definite time, he knew that they've made him happy for a long time. In his opinion, he felt like they meant a second chance. Or maybe those were sunrises. Too bad he would never get up early enough to watch one. The only time he'd do that was when he was dead.
As the last few rays vanished and the sky turned darker, he heard the footsteps of Ford behind him. Looking over his shoulder to see what he was doing, he saw him holding up two mugs of hot chocolate, offering one to him.
Nodding his head in a silent thanks, he took the mug made by Mabel the previous summer reading "Best Grunkles" on the front. Blowing on it gently, he took a small sip, sighing in content as the sweet, warm liquid hit his stomach.
"Aren't we running low on the cocoa powder?"
Ford shrugged. "You looked so happy watching the sunset," he chuckled. "I thought you might appreciate the gesture."
Stan scoffed. Those who didn't know him would say he was being rude, but anyone who was close to the man knew that this was his way of showing thanks.
One of the best parts about being out on the ocean was being able to see all of the stars. With no factories, there is no pollution. With the sky so clear, the constellations were as clear as day. Ironic if you think about it.
Ford especially loved to look at the stars. When they were kids, Ford always raved on about space. Stan always found space to be scary, but all Ford could say was how it was fascinating. How there were endless possibilities beyond the Earth.
"I wish I could see all the stars. All the smog here makes it hard to see them."
Stanley wrapped his arm around his brother's shoulders and grinned. "Don't worry, bro! Once we're out on the ocean, you'll get to see all the stars you want!"
Stanford smiled. "Yeah! Then I can see my favorite constellations in clear view. Orion is the best by far though."
"Okay, whatever, doofus." He punched his brother in the arm, and Ford was quick to reply.
Both of them giggled as quietly as they could without waking up their parents. They weren't too happy the last time they had caught them with the window open this late at night.
Stanley rubbed his temples with his thumb and forefinger. Regaining a memory never left a good feeling afterwards.
Ford noticed Stan's sudden pain. "I think it's best for you to go to bed now. After all, we are landing on a port tomorrow and we will need our rest."
Stanley chugged the rest of his hot chocolate, finishing it with a sigh of content. "I didn't know I had an old man curfew." He pushed himself off the railing and popped his back. "If you're forcing me off to bed then you'd better be doing the same or I'll come into your room with my knuckle dusters. I won't hesitate, old man."
Stanford rolled his eyes and chuckled at the empty threat. "Sure, sure. Just go to bed. I want to look at the stars for a while longer."
Stanley turned away towards his bedroom. "G'night, Ford."
"Goodnight, Lee."
Walking through the kitchen and down the stairs, Stan walked past the first two door before walking into his room.
The walls were made of new wood with a strong scent. The floor was bare except for the shag carpet he had nailed down so that it would stop moving. In fact, the worst part about moving in was having to nail everything down. All it did was ruin the floorboards.
His desk was in the corner with a small lamp and a couple of papers, a paddleball, and of course, his two pairs of knuckle dusters. One old and worn down, the other sharp and pointed. The first pair for defense, and the other for violent sea creatures. Next to the desk were double doors leading into his closet. In there was a chest full of his… Books.
Stanley sat down on his bed, feeling it dip under his weight. Pulling his dentures out, he put them in the glass of water by his night stand for tomorrow's use. That and his hearing aid. Now after stripping down to nothing but his usual striped boxers and tank top, he was set to go to bed.
After getting comfortable under the covers, he pulled a big, thick book off the nightstand and onto his lap. Just touching it left glitter on his hands.
Before the twins had left, Mabel had approached him the day before, hiding something skillfully behind her back.
"Grunkle Stan?"
"Yes, Mabel sweetie?"
She unveiled said thing and Stanley was surprised. In Mabel's hands was a thick scrapbook, similar to her own, but different in subtle ways.
"Well, I was thinking before I left that I should give you something to… remember us by," Both of them grimaced at the choice of words. "So I decided to make you a scrapbook with most of our memories of summer. I wasn't able to get all of the pictures, but I hope you still like it."
Stan took the book gently from her hands, not saying a word. Flipping through the bright, colorful pictures, he felt tears start to well in his eyes. And not just from the glitter that slipped its way past his glasses.
Mabel looked nervous. "Do you not like it? Shoot! I knew I should have just stuck with the ribbons instead-"
She was cut off by Stan pulling her into a hug. She squirmed in surprise before melting into his embrace.
"Thank you, Mabel. I love it," he said softly, trying not to make it obvious how close he was to crying.
"Grunkle Stan? Are you crying?"
Stan smiled at the thought of Mabel. Flipping the book open to the first page, his smile grew wider at the sight of the twins on their first day at Gravity Falls. Mabel looked ecstatic while Dipper had a bored-out-of-my-mind expression. At the top of the page was his niece's loopy cursive.
"First day of summer!" it read. Even Mabel's handwriting looked like her.
Stan saw a small note in the corner of the page that had a different style than his niece's.
"Mabel got a splinter stuck in her hand from hanging up all her posters." it read
He had read the same words over and over but they never failed to make the old man smile. The kids reminded him of himself and his brother when they were younger.
There was a sharp pain in his head. His hand dropped the book and massaged his head. Ouch, this one was a bad one. It was a little weird how sudden it was, but there was nothing he could do about that. Today wasn't eventful so he had spent a lot of time dwelling on his past.
Stan tried to focus on the pages, but his pounding head refused. The words were sharp and the whiteness of the pages were too bright. He couldn't read anything right now unless he wanted his eyeballs to walk out of his head in protest. Maybe he could just sleep it off.
Closing the book gently, he set in on the nightstand and snuggled under the covers. He curled up into a ball, his hands curled up by his chest and over the heart. His head still hurt, but there was nothing he could do about that. Well, there were the painkillers upstairs, but he was already under the covers. They were too far.
Stan stared at the back of his eyelids for what seemed like eternity until he finally lost consciousness.
That night, he dreamt of an X in the sky.
Stanley loved the ports. He didn't know whether it was all the cooky people he got to see or if it was just the levels of energy practically rolling off the place, but he loved coming here with his brother.
Stanford stood at his side, smiling to himself. With the way Stanley was gawking at everything, you'd think he was a little kid instead of an old man about to be in his seventies.
The scent of freshly cooked food and seawater hung heavily in the air, setting a scene of nostalgia. Small restaurants and ice cream shops were scattered along the streets, doors open welcoming those who wanted something to fill their stomachs with sugary, fatty food. Stanley felt his mouth water at the thought of something sweet. Nah, he could get junk later. Right now, he wanted real meat instead of all those dried out pieces of jerky. While they were undeniably good, they got old.
"Hey, Fordsy, let's go get some grub or something. I would kill for a steak right now."
Stanford rolled his eyes. "We will get lunch later, Stanley. For now we need to get supplies for the boat," Ford pulled out two slips of paper out of his pocket, handing the shorter one to Stanley. "You go get the basic necessities. I need to get some parts for a machine I'm building. Remember that pack of Selkies we found? Well I was thinking that if I were to-"
"Yeah, yeah, nerd stuff. Still didn't like when you invited one on board and invited them for tea. Not the smartest move on your part," Stan cut off.
Snatching the paper out of Ford's hand, Stan waved his hand. "See you in a couple of hours, Fordsy! Then you're paying for lunch!"
Ford was swallowed up by the crowd, leaving Stan by himself. He had no need to be worried though since he had his knuckle dusters hidden away in his pockets for emergencies. The old ones, of course. No one would suspect N old man wearing a maroon hat and overcoat to be an excellent fighter.
Soon Stanley found himself further in town where he could find the actual stores. Looking for the first dollar store he saw, he stepped inside and pulled out his list.
Most items on there were normal such as toilet paper, toothpaste and so forth while others were more… Questionable.
"What the hell…? Ford, why the fuck do you need nail polish?" Stan muttered under his breath.
It was best not to question. For all he knew, Ford just liked to paint his nails or something.
Who was he to judge.
Stan threw the nail polish into the cart (a light purple, just like the list said) and went to look for some food.
He was never very good at this part. His mind always screamed at him to get tubs of ice cream and Pitt Soda, but he knew that his health wasn't
good enough to handle those kind of things anymore. He had to stay fit in order to be able to work on the boat anyway. Not to mention that the kinds of things he wanted would not last long out at sea.
Reluctantly passing the candy aisle, eyeing the toffee peanuts silently, he collected the things they would actually need like bread and canned foods. Stan practically grabbed all of the beef jerky there was since it was the only food he was allowed to have that would last on the boat. The salty meat was as good as he was going to get. He made sure to grab a box of cocoa powder too since they were running low.
Satisfied with the things he had thrown in the basket, he moved to the check-out. He paid the cashier and left the store. There were a lot of bags, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. He didn't spend most of his childhood in wrestling for nothing.
It was a little quiet without Ford helping him though. Usually they would joke with each other all the way back to the boat.
Pain hit him in the head, similar to the one last night but worse. He briefly felt himself drop to his knees, hearing the cans hit the ground with loud bangs.
The back of his shoulder burned. He could feel the skin peeling off, the heat radiating off, contrasting with the chill winter air. His own screams echoed in his head, the sound of his brothers voice being drowned out. There was a flashing red light and a burning bright blue. His eyes hurt, his shoulder hurt…
His heart ached with betrayal.
Stanley opened his clenched shut eyes, now aware that he was on the ground. He felt a hand on his shoulder and a voice saying something to him.
A dark skinned woman was standing over him, speaking rapid Spanish. He didn't remember much of the language, but Stan could tell form her tone that she was asking if he was okay.
"No, no, I'm alright. Just got dizzy there for a sec'."
Her eyes widened. "Alright," she said with relief, switching to English. "Help with the bags?"
Stan looked at the cans trying to roll away and accepted her offer. It would take too long to pick all these up himself.
With a final wave and a thanks to the lady, he felt the exhaustion hit him full force.
He had no idea what had happened. One second he was fine and the next…
Stan shook his head. It was just a dizzy spell or something of the sort. He must not have been drinking enough water lately.
Dragging his feet, he walked through the ports, not looking at any of the bright colors like he was that morning. At the moment, he was too tired to even raise his head. Stanley boarded the boat, glad to be back at what he called home. He dropped the bags in the shade on the deck, drained from the episode earlier.
Walking through the kitchen and into his room, he flopped down on his bed, completely and utterly exhausted. Earlier he had been of excited to go to lunch with his brother, but now he didn't even want to leave the boat for a year.
The bed just was so comfortable right now to his aching muscles and head. Maybe a nap would do him some good…
"Well, well, well. How interesting."
A player enters the field.