Stan Pines remembered the day that he had made one of the largest mistakes of his existence. Sure, he knew that he was doing all he possibly could, but that didn't change the ache in his heart, how it killed him a little inside when he had to hand her over.

He had gotten the call that their parents had passed tragically in a violent car accident, leaving the 6-month-old twins orphans, and that he was the only relative that they had managed to get into contact with. Instantly he was stricken with grief and sorrow for the babies who had lost their parents so young.

Then he was at the hospital and the two wailing children had been tucked into his arms. He had stared, dumbstruck and clueless as to what he could do to calm them. He didn't know the first thing about children, and the shack wasn't doing so great. He could barely feed himself, let alone take care of two needy babies.

Then the woman had been there, saying that she worked with some... child protective services... or something, it was all really a blur to Stan. It had all happened too fast.

He knew that he was barely scraping by, but he was the only one who could be there for these kids. He couldn't just leave them to the wolves, they were family. So when the woman examined his income and property and concluded that there was no way he could support both children, he blanched.

"Please, I'm all they've got." It had been a last ditch effort, and somehow it had worked. Sort of.

Stan was told that while he may not be able to support both of the children, he could take one of them and if the time arose when he was doing better and could provide more for two children, they would see what they could do.

"Of course, the other child will most likely be adopted quickly. Our services guarantee that the child will go to a loving and caring home. One that will provide for them, Mr. Pines."

He looked down at the two babies snuggling together in his arms. Two parts of a whole. He couldn't just tear them apart, but he couldn't hand them both over.

In retrospect, he wished to anything out there that he would have argued more, but in his moment of weakness, the woman had persuaded him.

She's right. I don't have enough to take care of them both. And one of them will be given to people who can provide for them. People who can give them opportunities that I can't.

Stan Pines squeezed his eyes shut in anguish once the paperwork had been filled out, and the girl was plucked from his arms. She wailed. The boy wailed. He wanted to wail too, he wanted to chase after them and take her back and burn the paperwork because she was only a baby and she was being taken from her only family, but he was too numb. Numb from grief and guilt and terror.

He peeked down at the bundle in his arms, a tiny boy. His face was scrunched up and red as he screamed, no doubt missing his sister's warmth at his side. A strange birthmark spread across his forehead, resembling a constellation that he was familiar with. He remembered searching the sky for it as a child.

The word escaped his mouth in a trembling whisper. "Dipper."

If he couldn't provide for both of them, he was going to give this child as good of a life as he could manage. He was going to be both father and mother to him and ensure that he was happy. It probably wasn't going to be an extravagant life, but Stan would make sure he was happy.

Tears flooded his eyes, but he didn't let them spill. Instead he gently rocked the baby in his arms, and as he drifted into peaceful slumber, Stan smiled down at him fondly.

He could do this.