A/N: It's a continuation/companion piece to Restoring a Family.
I hope you'll like it and—once again—I hope everyone is bearably in character.
Let me know what you think and I'll appreciate if you tell me about any possible mistakes.
Fixing Mistakes
There would be a content silence in the kitchen if it wasn't for quiet scorching of pancake batter on a pan. The last stancakes this summer, Mabel thought fondly, sighing slightly.
She knew it meant the end of summer vacation. She still hadn't come to terms with leaving Gravity Falls and all of her new friends—family, in fact—behind, even though there were loads of friends waiting for her back in California, as well as her parents, of course. In fact, three months ago she hadn't been willing to go anywhere else, she loved her home.
She couldn't have expected that that little town, with its bizarre mysteries and strangely ignorant inhabitants, would ever find a place in her heart, and yet it actually had. The truth was she felt even better, more right here, in these woods, than in so familiar sunny California.
And people she had met during the last few weeks had become so close to her the thought of going back home without them was heart-breaking. Even excitement caused by Dipper's and her birthday couldn't overcome heartache of leaving Gravity Falls.
After the family hug that could have lasted few seconds, as well as few hours—she wasn't sure—they had parted at last. Ford had sit beside the table again, reaching for his book, while Stan had decided to make his beloved niece something to eat. Mabel agreed a bit hesitantly, remnants of sleep still lingering in her body. She wasn't even hungry, occupied with thoughts of everything today brought, as well as going back home the next day that made her heart ache a little. Despite that, she couldn't turn down her grunkle's offer, even if it meant she would only nibble her pancakes.
The strange feeling of longing already lingered in her mind, and yet she couldn't be happier right now. Despite her sheer hope for it, she hadn't really expected to see her beloved grunkles making up with each other. Even after the events of the last few days it had still come as a bit of a surprise to her. She was so happy for them both, after all they'd been through they undoubtedly deserved it.
But there was something else. Something that bothered her so much, that even though a smile wasn't leaving her face, she couldn't sit still, constantly playing with a strand of her hair, still a bit messy from sleep. Even her current happiness couldn't help her to push away one thought, which was incessantly racing through her mind, unable to let her go.
It's all your fault.
"Hope we didn't wake you," Stan chimed in, interrupting Mabel's thoughts. He glanced in her direction, with tender expression on his face.
He smiled encouragingly, seeing the girl's quizzical look. It took her a moment to gather her thoughts and answer.
"No," she denied, her voice soft. "No, it's not that. I… I just couldn't sleep," she explained, shrugging. She wanted to add something more, to explain that her inability to go back to sleep at the moment was caused by her excitement, the sun shining too brightly through the window, or Dipper's snoring. She opened her mouth, but no words came out—her thoughts were constantly coming back to the sense of guilt that had been slowly building inside of her chest for a few days now.
Luckily, Stan refrained from further questioning her, most likely blaming her silence on the grogginess. However, it wasn't the case. Well, maybe to some degree it was, although she would lie had she said that that was all. She had come downstairs, because she couldn't sleep, that was true. It hadn't been due to the birthday though, or even because of holidays ending.
The nightmares were just unbearable. Closing her eyes, she was instantly hearing that eerie ironic laughter, that teasing comments of his, and the one eye which saw right through her. She could feel with her all senses the chaos everywhere and anywhere, panic, madness, death…
At least it all had started sometime after the Weirdmageddon. She had no idea what she would have done if she had realized the truth earlier. She would've not been able to find strength, knowing that she had started that whole hell. She probably couldn't even look in Dipper's eyes; in everyone's eyes.
For last few days she had tried to hide it from everyone. She couldn't force herself to talk about it, ashamed and afraid of consequences. After all, how could she be irresponsible and stupid enough to give that strange thing to the guy she barely knew? She gritted her teeth—she couldn't stand it any longer, feeling the sudden urge to just scream it all already.
She shot her eyes closed, trying to collect her thoughts and find the best way to start. "Uhm… There… There's something I need to tell you," she finally mumbled, doing her best to avoid the worried gazes both men immediately sent in her direction.
"What is it, my dear?" Ford put his book away, concentrating his whole attention on the girl.
"It's… I mean the Weirdmageddon…" Mabel swallowed a gulp, forming in her throat. Though she knew they wouldn't be mad at her, she still had some doubts if they really needed to know about it. Eventually, she inhaled slowly, deciding to spill the beans. "It's all my fault," she admitted weakly, bowing her head.
"Don't be silly, pumpkin," Stan answered incredously, placing a plate of steaming pancakes and a bottle of maple syrup in front of her.
"But it was me who gave Bill-Blendin that weird glowy thingy from Dipper's backpack!" She raised her head only to reveal the tears, welling in her eyes.
Both brothers were taken aback by her reaction. Stan instantly rushed in her direction, sitting on a chair next to her, while his brother only stared at her disbelievingly.
"The rift," Ford gasped in horror after a moment, realizing in a flash what she meant. "It didn't cracked, it…"
"Wait, what?," Stan interrupted him abruptly and looked in his direction questioningly, frowning.
Ford shifted uncomfortably. "Presumably I should have told you about it…" He bit his lip, looking away. "The truth is… only Dipper knew. The portal was very dangerous for our world itself, and therefore I was so mad at you, Stanley," he declared pointedly. "While you used it to save me, the instability of the machine created the interdimensional rift, which was de facto even more serious threat to this dimension. Beyond any control, it could be easily used to create a crack in the structure of our dimension big enough for Bill and his minions to come through," he explained tranquilly, ignoring the uncertain looks both Stan and Mabel gave him. "I thought I had contained it, and it was better for you not to even know about its existence, but… It appears that my decision only made things worse," he sighed, boring his eyes into the floor.
"So what you're tryin' to say is that this pointy jerk wanted to get his hands on it 'cause it'd let him get here? And that whole unicorn voodoo you did was because of it?" Stan frowned, looking at his twin expectantly.
Ford nodded a bit sheepishly.
"And you thought we didn't need to know about it 'cause we wouldn't understand it, didn't ya?" Stan crossed his arms, raising eyebrows in question. The little twitch of his lips clearly indicated that he was a bit annoyed. "Like a hero that saves world totally on their own?" Stan's remark wasn't sharp, or even ironic, he just calmly stated the fact.
Ford locked his gaze on his six-fingered hands. "It was foolish, I'm aware of that," he sighed. "I'm so sorry that I underestimated you so much, while I should have sought your help instead. Have I done it, we wouldn't probably have faced that whole situation." He rubbed his temples, shielding himself from Stan and Mabel, as if he couldn't look them in the eyes. It took him awhile before he spoke again, this time to Mabel. "So you gave it to him. But tell me, what did he promise to you?" There was no strain of accusation in his voice, only genuine concern.
"I… I sort of had a fight with Dipper about that… apprenticeship thing," she admitted uncertainly, clearly ashamed of letting her emotions take control over her to such extent that she made so stupid a mistake. "I didn't wanna summer to end. I wasn't ready for that, and honestly… I'm still not." She let her head drop, hiding behind her messy hear. "And… it was a bad day for me. I learned that high school isn't as great as I thought and… Back then it seemed it's better not to grow up at all. I felt… betrayed, forced to go back to California all alone, without the only person I can always count on," she murmured quietly. The memories of that day were quick to fill her mind; the images of thrilling party preparations quickly ruined, with all excitement-turned-to-anxiety, disappointment, and then anger.
She blinked away the tears that slowly started to gather under her eyelids. "So I ran off into the woods," she continued, doing her best to keep her voice from trembling. "I thought I could escape from the future, staying in Sweater Town forever. And then he went out of the bushes. He told me about a… time bubble, I guess. Like, it would let me stay in Gravity Falls and summer could last forever. I…" she stopped short, taking a sharp breath. She was afraid that her voice would crack any second now. She fidgeted her fingers, trying to collect herself, hoping her grunkles wouldn't push her, and luckily they didn't.
A few minutes of strangely uncomfortable silence passed and she finally found strength to speak again. "I'm sorry. I didn't expect him to turn out to be Bill," she breathed and the Stans could hardly hear her. Ford looked at her sympathetically. "I was so stupid to trust him!" The bitter tone of her voice was enough for Stan; he couldn't stand his beloved niece saying such things about herself.
He reached for her gently, though his grip was firm when he pulled her on his lap, wrapping his arms around her petite body. "Don't blame yourself, pumpkin," he soothed her, stroking her hair affectionately. He started to rock her delicately. "You weren't the only one to be naïve. And yet look—we're all here, safe and sound." He let a warm smile to spread on his lips, trying to find her gaze, but Mabel still stubbornly refused to look at him. He sighed, desperate to find a way to convince her she hadn't really done anything that much wrong—or rather that she wasn't the only one to do so—and to lighten her mood a bit. "Besides, we all messed up, sweetie," he added eventually, observing his brother's concerned expression out of the corner of his eye.
Mabel remained silent for a few minutes, staring at her little hands. Stan was more and more worried, however, before he had a chance to inquire, she opened her mouth and a tearful whisper came out. "But what if it's not a reality?" She wrapped arms around herself, hunching down. "What if we're still in that bubble… and the-ere's hell out there? What if I'll never get out of that sick trap?," she sobbed powerlessly, completely numb with her fear.
Stan's hold tightened a bit, though he said nothing. Well, he had no idea what to say; he hadn't been expecting such a confession. He hadn't known entirely what she had been through. He guessed he hadn't even wanted to know, so he hadn't asked. Now it turned out that he should have.
Ford, seeing his brother's hesitancy, decided to respond. "You got out. Your brother and your friends helped you," he stated reassuringly, smiling faintly at his niece.
She nodded slightly, but her eyes were distant, as if her mind was somewhere else. "It could have been just my imagination," she suggested stiffly, with her voice startlingly calm. "I was able to create everything I wished for in Mabeland, so why wouldn't I imagine the rescue team as well?," she wondered aloud.
Ford grimaced a bit. "That is certainly a logical conclusion, but if we were merely products of your imagination, don't you think we would behave in a way you'd like us to?" He tilted his head slightly, gazing intensely at her face. She had a feeling that he tried to study her expression to see if his words had any impact on her. "Besides, I believe it would be a very happy reality," he added with a small reassuring smile.
Mabel frowned, her eyes puffy, but no longer wet. "But you just did what I wished for," she argued weakly, desperately wanting to believe in what her grunkles were saying, however, a small voice in the back of her mind wouldn't let her.
Ford sighed, resigned. He pondered what he could add to make her feel better and at that moment Stan suddenly cut in. "Doubt that in your imagination I'd have to lose my mind to save you." His statement was calm, humorous even, and with a little smile playing on his lips he didn't look like he was reffering to almost losing all that made him him.
She looked up at him, surprised. "I…" Her mouth remained slightly opened, even though no more words came out. She froze for a few seconds before she regained control of her voice. "That-that's true," she admitted sheepishly. "I'd rather imagine a giant dinasourobear that would came and eat Bill like a nacho," she guessed, trying to lighten her own mood, but with little result.
Nevertheless, Stan chuckled softly, squeezing slightly her tiny shoulders. "It's over, sweetie. It's over and he ain't here anymore. And he'll never come back," he assured Mabel with enough certainty to make a little shy smile appear on her lips.
She nodded once again, this time with a tad bit more energy. She wanted to add something, but a long yawn cut her short. She felt her eyelids growing heavier and heavier—somehow the conversation with her grunkles managed to calm her down enough that she was able to relax a bit.
Mabel snuggled close against her grunkle, her head resting on his chest. Stan seemed not to mind it at all as he started to stroke her back in a soothing manner. Soon her breath evened and she was fast asleep, a plate of stancakes left on the table forgotten.
Stan smiled fondly, glad that his beloved niece seemed to be more at peace than just a few minutes ago. She still needed her sleep and it was too early for her to start a day. And he had nothing against being a pillow for her. "She's so small…," he mumbled, gently rubbing her arm.
It took a few seconds for the next thought to strike him. He furrowed his eyebrows, and his smile slowly faded. "We were runnin' back and forth along the beach, foolin' around at her—their age," he recalled wistfully, memories of their carefree childhood flooding his mind.
Ford looked at him and a sad smile appeared on his lips. "You wish they hadn't gone through all of this…," he muttered, apparently more to himself than his brother.
Stan slowly noded, his eyes fixed on Mabel. He couldn't get over the fact that he had to say goodbye to her within the next few hours. His heart ached as soon as a thought of a bus pulling over to pick his niece and nephew up appeared in his mind. He was surprised that those two months had passed so quickly—that the arrival of the kids that, he had to admit, he had dreaded even more than just a bit, afraid that he would've ended up with an annoying and troublesome set of twins, turned out to be completely life-changing for him and helped him get back his happiness. And, truth to be told, it was so much more than he could've ever imagined.
A few long minutes later, with Mabel still cradled on his lap, Stan began to look around the kitchen. It hadn't been altered too much after the Weirdmageddon and he caught himself remembering more and more details that the rest of his family somehow managed to restore in that not-too-big room.
Eventually, his eyes landed on his brother, still sitting silently at the table. Ford's frown caught Stan's attention as he seemed to be wholly lost in his own thoughts. "What's on your mind, Sixer?," Stan asked quietly, not wanting to disturb his niece's sleep.
At first, Ford remained silent, as if he ignored his brother question. However, without looking at Stan, he finally inquired: "What is that 'Sweater Town'?"
"Mabel's hiding in her sweaters when somethin' distresses her and it's the way she calls that place," Stan responded, gazing at Mabel once again with that fond smile of his. "Guess, though it ain't much helpin', it's her way of copin' with problems," he explained.
"By hiding from them," Ford pointed out matter-of-factly.
Stan shrugged. "She's not the only one to run from her mistakes," he stated casually, though were one to look closely, they could see a shadow in his eyes.
And then the kitchen was silent again, with only their breaths creating some noise. This time, however, the silence didn't last so long.
"I'd better get her to her bed. She still can get a few hours of sleep and I'd rather have her sleepin' in a bit more comfortable conditions," Stan stated softly, wrapping his arms around Mabel in a way that could help him to pick her up.
But before he had a chance to stand up, he looked at his brother one more time, tilting his head. "We need to talk more often now, y'know?" he offered, smirking slightly. "To avoid something like that happenin' again. No more secrets from now on. Deal?"
"Deal." Ford couldn't help but smile at his brother.
It was so good to finally have him back, Stan realised. Guess, it was worth fixing the old mistakes, even if it almost cost him his memory.
