Gravity Falls belongs to Alex Hirsch. The plot of this story belongs to me. Enjoy!
It had been about a year since the Stan twins had set out on their lifelong dream trip of sailing around the world. It was everything the two had imagined it would be. They had many adventures and been to many beautiful and exotic places all over the globe.
But with summer coming around the corner, the elder Pines were fixing to wrap up their trip. They had their fun and but they were just as excited to return home to their sleepy town of Gravity Falls Oregon and spend another summer with their niece nephew, Dipper and Mabel.
But there was something that they needed to do first.
Or more specifically, something Stan needed to do.
The sun was just starting to set, casting brilliant hues of oranges, reds, purples and pinks across the New Jersey sky as a lone, rented chevy impala made its way down the lonely road. Stan and Ford had arrived in their childhood town the day before. The Stan-O-War II pulling into the dock near the beach where they would spend their time playing and working on their first Stan-O-War as children and as teens.
The car was quiet. Neither of its two elderly passengers speaking a word. Both of them lost in memories of long ago.
Ford turned his head away from the window and looked over at his twin. Stan's face was neutral but his hands were gripped tightly to the steering wheel. Brown eyes staring straight ahead at the winding road as they neared their destination. "Stanley?"
The younger twin blinked as he was pulled from his thoughts. "Yeah?"
"Are you okay?"
"Oh sure. Yeah. Totally fine." Stan smiled reassuredly.
It was fake.
Stan was worried and Ford knew it. The scientist bit his lip and felt his stomach turn in a knot. He was beginning to second guess this idea of his. "Are you sure you still want to go through with this?"
Stan gave a tight, humorless laugh. "Yeah I guess. I mean, what's the worst that could happen? Right?"
Ford didn't say a word but nodded stiffly. In actuality, there really was nothing to be so nervous about. But Ford knew that this visit would more than likely bring up bad memories and hurt feelings for both of them. Especially for Stan.
He was really, really starting to regret this idea.
The next ten minutes were filled with silence as Stan continued to drive on. The only sound being the hum of the car as it drove and the music of the radio. (Some "cray-cray" song by some boy band that Mabel liked and neither Ford nor Stan found that appealing. Normally by now one of them would have long since changed the station but they were both to preoccupied with the impending visit at hand to really care.)
After a few more winding turns, a familiar black iron fence came into view. An aged, wooden sign hung from the top of the fence and in black lettering were the words:
Glass Shard Cemetery.
"Are you sure you want to go through with this, Stanley?" Ford asked softly as he watched his twin pull the car to a stop and then unbuckle his seatbelt.
The conman paused, his hand on the doorhandle and took a second to let out a shaky breath before responding. "Yeah...You're right about me needing this."
The scientist nodded. "Do you...want me to come with you?"
"No...This is...this is something I need to do for myself."
And with that, the door was opened and Stanley exited the vehicle, and headed towards the gates, disappearing inside.
"I hope you're doing the right thing, Stanley..."
The cemetery was due for some tending, Stan noted as he made his way between the grave markers. The grass was in need of cutting and leaves were scattered everywhere. It wasn't a dump persay, but it certainly could have looked better.
The old man ignored this though and continued on. He read the names of the passing headstones, going deeper and deeper into the cemetery until one caught his eye.
It was a simple classic stone marker. No fancy markings, no special message. Just the occupants name, the date of birth and the date of death.
Filbrick Pines.
"Uh...Hey, Dad."
Silence greeted Stan, as he had expected. He shuffled awkwardly and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his windbreaker. What was he supposed to say? "Uh...How're ya doing?"
Not that.
Stan mentally kicked himself as the words left his mouth. "Right, sorry...Uh...Been awhile huh?"
This was stupid. Stan knew this was stupid. The only reason he was here at all was because of Ford. Something about needling closure or whatever.
Stan wanted to turn around and walk away. To get back into the car and leave this place and its memories in the past.
But he couldn't.
"I...I'm actually doing pretty okay now." Stan started, scratching the back of his head. "Great, actually. I started my own business. It's a tourist trap. Suckers come from all over and pay to check out some cheap junk. I started it all on my own and I made a name for myself! Just like you said!"
A soft breeze blew and memories of the past began to flood Stan's mind. This was the first time he had spoken to his father since that fateful night forty years ago. The night Filbrick had kicked Stan out of the house and basically disowned him.
The conman shuffled his feet. "I made up with Ford, too. We finally got to sail around the world. You always used to say that that was a stupid dream but we finally live it. I mean, sure it was later in life than we used to think it would be. But we did it. We actually did it."
Stan didn't know why he suddenly found it hard to swallow. Inside his pockets he balled his hands into fists. For a moment, he wasn't in the graveyard speaking to his dead father any more. He was a 15 year old boy and so was Ford. They were both sunburned but were laughing and happy and returning home from a long day of working on their precious boat. But the happiness was destroyed in an instant their father saw them, scoffing at their dream.
"When are you two going to give up that childish dream and make names for yourselves?!"
"I have a family too." Stan said, his voice a bit shakier than it was before. "Ford and I...last summer we got really close with Shermie's grandkids. Dipper and Mabel. I dunno if you ever met them or not but...Oh Dad, they're both just so amazing. They...they saved me, so to speak, I guess."
The sky was getting darker now. The oranges turning into a dark purplish, bluish, almost but not quite black color and a few stars began to peek out above the clouds.
"I'm doing really great now Dad. I'm happier now that I have been in a really long time. I finally have a family again. I'm happy."
The tightening in Stan's throat got even tighter and he began to shake. One last memory sprang forth in his mind. The memory of that night.
"...But do you even care?"
The conman clenched his fists and squeezed his eyes shut. "H-How...How could you?...How could you do that to me?! To your own flesh and blood?! To your own SON!?"
Over Forty years worth of memories came bubbling up to the surface and washed over Stanley like a tidal wave. He was drowning in a sea of hurt and betrayal and anger and he could no longer hold it back. He didn't want to hold it back.
"Okay, I get it, you ha every right to be mad at me for costing Ford his dream school! I understand that and if I could go back in time and change it I would. But what you did was WAY out of line! I was Seventeen! I hadn't even graduated highschool yet! I never GOT to graduate because of you! I had no home! No food! No family! NOTHING! And for what?! You did all that to your own kid over MONEY!?"
Stan removed his glasses and roughly rubbed at his eyes. No. Dead or not he would not let his father see him cry.
"I was homeless for ten years dad! TEN YEARS! I worked so hard...so hard to make a name for myself so you would be proud of me but no matter what I did, it wouldn't have been good enough for you would it?"
The anger slowly began to ebb away. Sadness replacing it.
"No matter what I would have done, I would always be Daddy's Little Screwup in your eyes, wouldn't I? Just because I'm not smart like Ford or didn't get good grades, I would always be the worthless one huh?"
Stan stood up straighter, glaring at the gravestone defiantely.
"Well you were wrong, Dad. I have spent my whole life believing those things you said about me but I've finally come to realize last year that I'm NOT a screw up! Yes, I've made my share of mistakes and yes, I am the dumb twin. But I'm smart in my own ways! I've started my own business all by myself from literally rock bottom! I fixed a broken down portal that leads to another deminsion, by myself and rescued Ford! I punched a pterodactyl AND a Krakken AND a demon in the face! I SAVED THE WORLD!"
Silence descended upon the graveyard. It was completely dark now. Stan took a few breaths before continuing.
"You always saw me as useless. You never cared about me and only paid attention to Ford when he accomplished something. Honestly, you were a terrible father...But you know what Dad? I don't care about that stuff any more. Because I have a real family now. I have family and friends who love me just as I am, faults and all. And nothing, and I mean nothing, is going to take that away from me!"
The overgrown blades of grass shifted slightly in the night time breeze. Stan felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. And as he stared down at the lonely little grave, he turned on heel, turning his back to both the grave, his father, and his past.
"Bye Dad."
And he walked away. The past was in the past and it was going to stay in the past. The old conman walked forward, past the gravestones, past the overgrown blades of grass and scattered leaves, towards the iron gates.
Towards his future.