Unbetaed. Just something I've been playing with for a while

Dipper Pines had had a fairly nice existence. He and his twin sister lived in a modest, though nice, house with their loving parents. The California sun generally agreed with him, school was okay, and he was looking forward to soaring over the beaches in the next few years.

But then the Accident happened.

Dipper and Mabel were hauled out of class, hesitantly told by their principal that some "officers need to talk to you about something", and then informed of what happened.

Their parents had died. In a car accident.

It didn't feel real.

Mabel's brightly colored wings drooped, and she was strangely quiet; before almost launching at one of the officers. Dipper managed to grab her, though he was still numb

"YOU'RE LYING!" Mabel screeched, "THEY AREN'T DEAD! THEY WOULDN'T DIE IN A STUPID CAR CRASH! YOU'RE LYING! You're...you're lying..." she broke off sobbing.

The next week was a blur. Mabel spent the majority of it crying, hiding from the relatives swarming over their house, and refusing to be any sort of distance from Dipper. Mostly she was knitting. God only knew what. Dipper was fairly sure it had started out as a sweater, but Mabel refused to finish it.

Dipper was...Dipper was still numb. It didn't feel real. One of these afternoons, their parents would walk back through the door, their mother smiling brightly, their father shaking out his hawk-like wings and somehow maneuvering to give the whole family a hug with those wings. Dipper would feel safe again. Mabel would smile again.

Those wings that Dad had always said could protect them from danger.

But the logical part of his mind knew they wouldn't. Knew the date of the funeral. Knew the street on which the Accident had occurred.

He still stared at the door a little too often.

Their aunts and uncles and grandparents packed up the house, occasionally tearing up. They invited the twins to help, but neither was too keen on the idea. Most of what was in the house was packed for storage. Dipper grabbed his father's leather jacket. Mabel squirreled away the necklace their mother wore all the time; supposedly it once belonged to their father's mother.

"Dipper?" Mabel asked quietly one day. "What's going to happen to us?"

Dipper didn't know how to answer that. He'd researched it(that's what he did when he was upset. Researched. Know the problem, know the variables, solve it, fix what was wrong-) and kids like he and Mabel were usually placed with winged relatives.

There was one problem. Their dad's side of the family is where that came from. They'd never known their grandma, and their dad never even talked about his dad. Dipper had vague memories of some winged relative on his dad's side. An uncle maybe?

"I don't, Mabel. I just don't know."

Dad was supposed to teach them how to fly this summer.

Now everything was crashing down.

The answer came after the funeral.

Dipper hadn't wanted to go. Nor had Mabel. It was too final. Too much confirmation that their parents would never come home again.

But their grandmother cajoled them into it.

After all was said and done, the twins found a corner away from everyone, just to have some quiet. A little peace.

Until their grandmother reappeared, steering an older man toward their corner.

Dipper looked at him with suspicious eyes. The man had large greyish wings that had seen better days—Dipper may be self conscious of the down remaining in his wings, but the state of these wings made the boy feel infinitely better. Ragged was the only word to use—some feathers looked just about ready to give up and fall out.

Looking at the man's eyes, Dipper could tell he was grief stricken—and not just in the polite "I know how you feel" way that had become so common to see in the last week. He must have known Dipper and Mabel's parents.

Their grandmother spoke softly, "Dipper? Mabel? This is your great uncle Stanford—your father's uncle."

Mabel finally spoke up, "Grunkle Stan? I..I remember you. You visited once."

"Er...Yeah," was Stan's oh-so eloquent answer.

Their grandmother frowned briefly before her features softened again, "Stan here is going to take care of you two."

"You mean...We're going to live with you?" Dipper questioned.

Stan made a nervous movement with his hands, "Yeah, uh, that's what's been decided. Since I'm the only family left on your dad's side of the family." He cleared his throat and looked down.

Mabel gently lays a hand on Dipper's shoulder, nodding slightly. That's good enough for him. Mabel's always been an uncannily good judge of character.

Dipper just kind of nodded solemnly.