A/N: Hello again everyone. First, I'd like to thank all of you so much for the amount of views (and even a favourite!) I've received. I'm glad to see that reception for this fanfic is better than I hoped. Now, you may be wondering how I managed to complete Chapter II in such a short timeframe after Chapter I was posted. Well, the explanation for that is quite simple, actually - I just wrote half of Chapter II before I went on to post Chapter I, so, yeah. Don't count on Chapter III being posted so soon, though, because I'm a slow writer that does a lot, and I mean a lot of edits (it's probably going to take a week/two, worst case three/four.) Nonetheless, enjoy the second chapter of "An Unexpected Arrival"!

Disclaimer (new thing I saw the cool ff writers doing:) I don't own anything related to the fictional universe of Gravity Falls, nor the piece of media/show itself.

Chapter II - The First Day

Stanley awoke from the ear-piercing sound of his old-fashioned alarm clock that sat on a small end table. He sluggishly bent his hand over to the other side of the bed and silenced it for good. Slowly standing up and rubbing his eyes, he silently remarked the atmosphere around him - dust permeated the air of the vacant room and a small triangle-shaped window illuminated only a slither of outside light. Putting his feet to his slippers, he rose up from the sturdy bed and walked over the creaky floorboards to the nearby bathroom. Whilst walking to it in silence, he thought about how old his brother's house really was - he wondered if he ought to renovate it or at least make it more comfortable for living purposes, though he decided against it in order to adhere to a weird sentimentality he held onto regarding the preservation of his brother's legacy. Mementos of his scientific journeys blended in with the various, equally surrealistic and crazy tourist attractions laid out for meager decoration purposes.

He reached the bathroom door and put his dry hand on the knob. Before he went in to do his sanitary duties, he noticed that Matthew was to the left of him, watching silently from the attic door. An uncomfortable silence befell the two. Before any of them broke it out, Stanley squinted his eyes as to get a better look at him since he didn't have the time yesterday and couldn't really see him now either. He noted some of the details of his face - heavy eye bags, reddish cheeks even some minor bruises that were badly covered up. His hair was of relatively medium length and had a distinct light brown hue, but the shape of his body had him thinking that he was some ten or fifteen pounds away from classifying for anorexia. He also bore a cyan coloured T-shirt, presumably medium or small size, that was embroidered with a yellow lightning bolt. Along with it, he had on him rugged and light brown pants that surprisingly fit him and a pair of black sneakers. After finishing his brief, but thorough inspection, he finally decided that he ought to say something.

"Uhh, kid," Stan began with a puzzled look. "Don't give me the creeps like that."

"S-sorry. I was just wondering if I could come out..." he replied with a fearful glance in his eyes.

"Err... why wouldn't ya?"

"Ï... uh... don't know?" he awkwardly uttered out.

"Okaay. Alright. I'll be, um, heading in. Go after me if ya want, though, heh."

"N-no, I'm, er, cool." Matthew replied after which he gave himself a mental facepalm for his poor choice of words.

Stan sighed.

"Alright then, suit y'aself."

Stanley turned the knob and entered the compact bathroom. As soon as he entered, he went over to the sink and looked at his glassy reflection. He deeply sighed and forcefully pinched his temple, having only just starting to think about the regretful mortifying encounter he had just had with his newfound acquaintance.

"God, what am I gonna do..."

He stood there for a few seconds, wondering how and when he'd get on with finding the kid's origins and as to how he'd help him. Child services and other various government institutions crossed his mind, but he quickly dismissed them - he wasn't one to like said institutions nosing in over the credibility of his business. He had a bad feeling that he'd have to take on this predicament himself. That thought irked him - where would he even begin? Asking him direct questions was a possibility, but it wasn't a prudent one. Snooping around what little personal belongings he seemed to have also felt dirty, even for him.

As he was grabbing the toothbrush and pliers, it hit him. He realised that Matthew would obviously be distant had he questioned him as if he was on a judicial trial. Stan thought that maybe if he let him assimilate for a bit and give him time to get to know the residents of the town, he'd warm up and then he would be able to dig in and actively help him. With the sound plan in mind, he finally felt at ease and went on to resume the last of his morning bathroom rituals.

Stanley looked at the grandfather clock nearby - the time was 7:43 AM. He had an hour or so until he had to open up business for today, which he knew was plenty enough to eat breakfast, get dressed and even converse a bit with Matthew. He decided he'd best first go and clothe himself for the workday. In his room, he proceeded to, over his tank top, put on his favourite tacky suit, brandish his formal vagabond shoes, black pants and, of course, strap on his trademark fez, eyepatch and velvet coloured tie. Now proudly staring at his reflection, he went on to add the finishing touches to his grandiose appearance.

Returning back to the hall of the upper floor, he yet again took a gander at the clock and was a bit surprised as to how long he had apparently taken to dress. Shrugging it off and quickly snagging away his 8-ball cane from his room, he set out to do one last thing before officially opening the museum and gift shop - eat. He hastily descended the stairway and saw that Matthew was there, waiting for him yet again. This time though he felt as if he was more content than usual.

"Hey kid," began Stan with a smile on his face. "How's it hanging?"

"O...kay?" replied Matt with an inquisitive look. "What's it to you anyway..." he muttered out as well.

"Yeesh, sorry for even asking." retorted Stan, having now redacted his previous assumption that Matthew was doing better. "Anyway, there ain't a chance you're not hungry by now, so whaddya want?"

As Stan had previously anticipated, the only response he got back was a puzzled expression.

"Urh," he growled silently as he went on to pinch his temple yet again, only this time lifting his glasses slightly. "Alright, how 'bout I, uh, fix up some pancakes, eh?"

Matthew hesitated before saying anything. The immense kindness Stan had already given him was still far too suspicious for his taste. He told himself that he had his reasons for doubting such a person - everything about Stan seemed off to him. From the very beginning he didn't trust him, but due to his circumstances, he hadn't a choice and accepted his offer to stay a night in his run-down house. Although he did not wish to succumb to his influence, he couldn't withstand his tormenting hunger.

"Fine..." he finally answered.

"Hey, now that's the spirit!" Stan cheerfully remarked as he already began to head into the kitchen. "Don't worry, you're gonna love my Stancakes."

Matthew remained eerily silent as he autonomously followed Stanley to the kitchen table. He sat himself down and watched as Stan proceeded to grab the necessary kitchen utensils for cooking his culinary masterpiece. He was quite surprised when he seemed to illustrate a decent level of proficiency in cooking after doing a few amusing tricks with the ingredients. Matt decided he ought to suppress his hunger by looking around and taking in the not so breathtaking atmosphere. He noticed that, like in every room he's been so far in Stanley's house, the furniture was run down and damp. It certainly didn't help that the smell of a cheap stove cooking started to be more than inviting to his already salivating mouth as well. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to Matthew, Stanley finished the breakfast and proudly served it alongside the appropriate garnishments to the table. Despite the fact that Matt was famished, he didn't dare touch the food without Stan's permission. Stanley, already having served himself a sizeable plate, looked up to Matthew with a curious expression because of that.

"Hey, don't worry," Stan assured whilst singling out a piece from the huge stack on his plate. "the food ain't gonna bite."

"Y-yeah. Heh, I knew that..." he muttered.

"Well," he began, mouth full with an entire pancake. "Why's your plate still empty then?"

"Oh-er, yeah, I'll grab some." he responded uneasily. He went to cut out a sizeable stack out of the full plate and plop it down onto his. Not even five seconds passed after he sat down before he started piling up pancakes in his mouth.

Oddly enough, Stan found a certain sweetness in his behaviour. He didn't want to go soft on him, but he had to admit that being a subject to his flippant ways was charming, even when they made him feel awkward.

"How's the grub?" inquired Stan.

"Oh... it's really good." he answered with an appreciative smile in return.

"Ha!" loudly laughed Stan, nearly frightening Matthew. "Finally, someone that can lie straight to my face about my horrible cooking and actually make me believe it for a sec!"

Out of Stan's self-deprecating joke, he and Matthew both exchanged a good-hearted laugh. Stan was glad that he had managed to somehow get through to him even a tiny bit. Although he did not know why he did it before executing his plan - after all, he knew he was just going to have to deal with him at some point or another. As he was eating, Stanley thought that maybe he could manage to deal with him on his own and that the short interaction they just had was proof of that, that maybe he didn't need such a complex plan and that he ought to just let things flow by themselves. But then another possibility crossed his mind - one that would require an enormous amount of work and trust in order to even be considered. He wasn't even sure if wanted it, so he decided that he'd just wait and see what happens. From his endearing thought session, he didn't realise that he had already eaten every pancake he had on his previously full plate and yet was still continuing to dig in, although this time his fork was scratching the porcelain of the plate and producing an uncomfortable sound enough to get Matthew's attention.

"Umm..."

"Huh? Oh, sorry kid," Stan apologetically said. "just zoned out for a bit, no worry."

Stanley, with a painful groan, slowly got up from the rusty chair and went to grab his, as well as Matthew's now empty plate and retreated to the filthy kitchen sink. After a short washing, he put them back in one of the cupboards and turned around, only to see Matt still sitting on the chair.

"Hm, you still here?" asked Stan.

"Yeah..." he responded whilst looking at the floor and waddling his legs.

"Okay... I'mma go open up shop for the day." declared Stan. "But while I'm at it, you can talk with some of my employees that are comin' soon."

"I guess...?" he replied as he finally looked up to face him.

"Alright. And keep that chin up, kiddo." he told him after which he gave him an assuring wink.

Stanley ventured to the museum and started graciously setting up for the day, earnestly hoping that he wouldn't be distracted any further. He walked into the museum and saw that some of the exhibits were a bit off due to what he presumed was the inadequacy of the customers that ogled over them. As he slowly bent to lift one of the bigger ones up, he felt how sturdy the actual platform it was on was, which worried him a bit, but he shrugged it off, knowing that there are much more dangerous hazards he ought to keep contained. It took him a good ten minutes to move all of them, and in addition hammer down a sign on the entrance warning tourists to not touch the exhibits under penalty of death, but he was nonetheless satisfied with the condition of the museum. But before Stanley could do anything, he had to wait for his employees to come. Just as he walked into the gift shop and stood next to the vending machine, he saw Soos, his mechanic and best man, emerge from the front door.

"Good morning, Mr. Pines!" cheerfully greeted Soos.

"Yeah, yeah, you too," replied Stan with a disregarding wave. "Alright, I'm startin' in a few minutes, but I can't make money without Wendy on the cashbox."

"Hmm…" Soos thought intently. "Oh yeah! She said she's gonna run a bit late, like, five minutes."

"What?!" exclaimed Stan. "She's lucky I don't pay her much..."

"Err, Mr. Pines...?"

"Yeah?"

"Who's the little dude behind you?"

Stan quickly turned around only to find himself facing Matthew yet again. On one side, he was glad that he had finally decided to go out of his comfort zone and explore, but at the same time, he now had more problems to deal with. He knew he had to help establish a stable relationship between Soos and Matthew, but he knew that wouldn't be hard since both of them weren't the most sociable types.

"Er, Soos, meet Matthew. Matt, meet Soos, my handyman. He helps me around the place." said Stan as he finished greeting them.

"Hey dood. I'm Soos, like Mr. Pines said. Heh." announced Soos after which he knelt to his level and extended his hand with a pleasant smile.

"Hi..." returned Matt as he shook his hand with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, yeah. If you two are done meetin' and all, can we get to work?" asked Stan while slightly pushing the two away. "Soos, I need ya to change one of the bulbs up in my room," he ordered as he gave a slight nod to Soos as a response to his confused expression regarding his new guest.

"You got it, Mr. Pines!" responded Soos as he gave Stan a salute and hailed off.

Stan breathed a sigh of relief for dealing with Soos this quickly, but he knew he still had another problem to deal with - Matt. He turned around to face him yet again while leaning on the vending machine.

"So, Matt, since I'm gonna be busy workin', I'm gonna leave ya to do what you want, but don't go wanderin' off into the forest or somewhere other than the Shack. Deal?" asked Stan.

"Er, deal...?"

"Good. I'mma go and..."

Before Stan could finish his sentence, he saw the door burst open, only to reveal his second employee - Wendy, being late as usual and donning her usual attire.

"Ha, speaking... or at least was gonna speak of the devil!" angrily remarked Stan along with crossing his arms.

"Whoa, Mr. Pines. I'm late with, what, three minutes. Psh, big deal." apathetically stated Wendy. "Blame the rain."

"Whatever, just get on that counter. Time is money and I can smell a busload of tourists coming!" he finished as he ran off to the museum to guide them.

What Stanley didn't realise, though, was that he had accidentally left Matthew in a precarious position with Wendy, with her not having noticed him yet. Matthew felt the good while it took her to finally glance at him.

"Huh? Hey, kid, did you get lost from the tour group, 'cause it's over there" she told him as she pointed a finger into the direction of the museum. "Gift shop's not open yet."

"I'm, uh, I'm with... Stan."

"What? Kid, Mr. Pines doesn't have any children. At least I don't think he does..."

"I'm not his kid... I... I came here yesterday asking for directions and he took me in... I don't know why." Matt finished as he now went to the counter and made eye contact with Wendy.

"Hm, strange. I never thought Mr. Pines was the empathetic type." she pondered.

"Heh, yeah... he doesn't look like it." commented Matt. "Oh, um, sorry, forget I said that. The customers are probably gonna arrive soon anyway, so..."

"Nah, dude, don't worry. Everybody talks behind everyone's back." assuringly said Wendy. "Plus, those idiots aren't coming out soon. Trust me."

"Alright..."

"Oh, I'm Wendy, by the way. I work the counter here. It's boring, like, always, but it's cool to have someone new around to talk to at least."

"Heh, thanks. I'm Matt." he stated again for what felt like the hundredth time these past few days.

"So..." Wendy began as she went to sit down on the counter chair. "Where are ya from?"

Matthew began to uncomfortably fumble around. It took Wendy only seconds to note the inconvenience she had created with her question.

"Hey, don't sweat it. I can relate to ya, not wanting to talk about your past and all," assured Wendy.

"Yeah, it's not something I would like to share... not now at least..."

"Well, do it when ya wanna do it. You seem like a cool guy, but man, cut the worry act."

"Heh, will try to. Don't ask me how I even found this place..." he humorously replied. "Let alone if I'm acting or anything..."

"Oh man, I can hear those walking moneybags coming here already," she noted, completely ignoring Matthew's last sentence. "Welp, I'd hate to cut this short, but it seems like I have no choice if I wanna keep this measly job. See ya around though." she finished as she gave him a thumbs up and a warm smile.

"Yeah, sure..."

With no clear directive, Matt decided he should let Stan do his job and heed his advice and explore what little there is in the shack. He went to the front porch and sat down on the wooden platform that kept the whole thing together. The atmosphere filled him with the bad memories from yesterday. He tried to do his best to suppress them, but the gut-wrenching thought that he almost died out there, alone and in the cold shook him. It was strange that he even considered knocking on Stan's door, for the last thing he had expected out of the shack and its lone resident was salvation. Retreading back again, he also internally remarked how Stan was able to read through his lie and help him more than he could ever know. He admired that ability, and, to a certain extent, Stan himself. Oddly enough, after sitting on the porch for a good while, the forest's calm and welcoming demeanour slowly mitigated Matt's bad memories and replaced them with a sense of serenity and peace. He chuckled to himself, wondering if this is what nature at its best does to people. After listening more to the chirping of the birds and other various, not so easily identifiable sounds from the forest, he went back in the shack, having heard the customers beginning to leave.

Upon entering the shack again, he saw that it was bustling with business. He began to wonder how much money Stan really made from his lucrative business and if he ever had any problems with the authorities. Shrugging that random thought off, he proceeded to head into the large crowd of customers in order to get to the museum and possibly Stan. From the many accidental bumps he had with the handful of people who were all going in the opposite direction, he began ignoring his surroundings and, in doing so, tripped on a slightly raised floorboard. He wasn't able to regain his balance and hit something hard head-first. Only after he managed to get up from his crash and rub his throbbing head did he see that he had hit no other, but one of the customers' children. His immediate instinct was to go and apologise, but the child's mother pushed Matthew from him. Slowly backing away and beginning to frantically shake his head between the customers and the now bawling child, he knew that his worst fear had become a reality - all eyes were on him for something he didn't do. Whilst he was backing up, he realised he had reached the end of the line and was pressed to the hard wooden wall near the front door of the gift shop. It didn't help at all that he was a subject to the angry shoutings of the parents and the nearby patrons as well. All that Matthew did at that moment was wonder - wonder how, in one fell swoop, he had managed to make so many people loathe him? His mind was racing and he couldn't contain it, for he knew that he had to do something, anything, eventually. He then remembered Stan - he knew that after he had sabotaged his business that he would be furious beyond belief, like any businessman would. That was his cue to get out of there.

Wendy, having only now noticed the commotion, got up from her chair to see what was happening. She was shocked when she saw a familiar figure run out of the main door and into the woods. Then she realised what had happened and tried to contain the situation with refunds. Just as she went to do so, she saw Stan enter the room.

"Wendy! What happened?" asked Stan as he went to her counter.

"Mr. Pines!" Wendy responded, only half paying attention to him due to her trying to fix the situation at hand. "Matt, he did... something and ran away into the woods!"

"What?!" Stan asked, trying to assess the problem. "Quick, point me 'ta where he went. I'm gonna go after him!"

"Over there!" said one of the customers, having overheard Stan's request to Wendy.

Stan didn't waste a second and started furiously sprinting into the direction that Matthew had gone whilst yelling to the tour-goers that the gift shop is temporarily closed. A cold dread filled Stanley while running in-between the trees. Different scenarios occurred to him left and right, but he swallowed them down. He had to find Matthew, he just had to. Finally, after sensing that he might give way to exhaustion, he found a small clearing that overlooked the town from afar and on it he saw Matthew. Although relieved, he felt it turn into ashes only seconds later, for he saw him narrowly avoiding what he identified from his brother's manuscripts as a yeti, although this one, unlike the ones illustrated in the journals, was roughly his size and bore a darkened shade of grey fur. Without a moment's hesitation, he swiftly dashed into the fray and lunged himself to save Matthew from a furious claw strike that hit him instead and ripped his suit. After painfully getting up and helping a surprised Matt up to his feet, he noted that they were near the edge of the clearing. The yeti was nearing them and they were forced to walk back as much as they could. Stan knew that he had to think of something fast or they were toast.

"Kid... what the heck were ya thinking?" Stan began with heavy sighs in between his words.

"I-I'm sorry, Stan..."

"Now's not the time! Quick, we've gotta think of somethin' to distract it."

Matt looked around. There wasn't much to choose from, but his survival instincts kicked in and he quickly forged a plan. He dashed to the left and grabbed one of the bigger rocks laying there. Just as he had anticipated, the yeti turned to run at him and he threw the rock with full force in its mangled face. The sheer blow of the rock made it tread backwards in an unstable manner.

"Quick! Go!" Matt yelled.

"Not with you I ain't!" Stan sternly ordered as he ran to him.

"But..." he began, but decided not to continue after seeing the yeti beginning to stabilise itself.

"Come on!" Stan yelled as he whisked Matt's hand away and sprinted through the forest back to the direction of the Mystery Shack.

Thankfully, after they knew the yeti had lost them, they resumed a normal pace. All was quiet between the two for a while. Both of them were thoroughly exhausted from the encounter they just had with one of Gravity Falls' paranormal oddities. So many questions crossed Matthew's mind about the events that transpired today. He couldn't resist the temptation and couldn't bear the eerie silence.

"So, um... where are we going?" Matt asked.

"Whaddya mean? Back to the shack of course." Stan retorted.

"But... aren't you... mad at me? I-I mean, I ruined your business..."

"What?" Stan responded lightheartedly and with a laugh. "Kid, my business ain't gonna go down 'cause of one bad day. Heck, might as well take the day off to dress this bad boy." he finished as he gestured to his wound.

"What was that... thing, though...?"

Stanley sighed.

"Look, Matt, the forest here at my place and the town nearby, Gravity Falls, are both weird. All I know is that they're both dangerous and filled with things like that." Stan answered.

"So... that's why you didn't want me to leave the shack..."

"Yep." nodded Stan.

The rest of the way to the Mystery Shack was silent, except for the sound of the duo's footsteps and the familiar chirping of the birds. After Stan's revelation, the forest now seemed all the more uninviting to him and he regretted ever thinking otherwise. He didn't hate it at first, but now, after having the creatures that lurk in it nearly kill him, he knew that his first impression was one of a ruse. After a while of walking and following signs, both of them finally saw the shack in view and rejoiced.

"Hey, um... I just wanted to say... thanks," said Matt seemingly out of nowhere.

"Thanks for what, kid?"

"Well... everything. For taking me in, for giving me somewhere to... to sleep, for saving my l-life..." he went on as he began to tear up. "And all I did is s-stab you in the back..." he muttered out.

Stan noticed that and knelt down to him, just as he had done yesterday when he was but a complete stranger.

"Hey, kid, c'mon." soothed Stan. "Don't let me take all the glory..."

"W-what...?"

Stan wholeheartedly chuckled.

"Matt, if it ain't for you, we'd have both been goners by now. You saved my life too." congratulated Stan. "And don't forget that. Ever. And believe me when I say that already makes ya a better person than me."

Matthew could not handle it. The sheer altruism emanating from Stan brought him to a breaking point. He wasn't used to this, wasn't used to love, especially from a someone he had just met yesterday. He leapt into his bulky arms and hugged him with an iron grip.

"Thank you... so much..." he said with tear-ridden eyes. "It's... it's been so long..."

"I know, kiddo. I know.." Stan told him, having finally made a decision regarding him.

With that, Matt let go of him. They made their way to the gift shop door once more and entered.

"Mr. Pines!" Wendy exclaimed. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine, Wendy," Stan said with a painful groan in-between sentences. "Go and take the day off. Ya earned it for keepin' this whole thing under control.."

Wendy looked appalled.

"Wow, um, 'kay then," she responded as she went to grab her stuff. "You sure you're not sick, though, 'cause this is pretty strange for you."

"Huh, I'm gettin' the feeling you wanna stay cooped up here?"

"Oh, no, no!" Wendy hastily replied as she quickly exited through the door.

With Wendy gone, Stan turned his attention to Matt.

"Say, after I dress this, wanna have some lunch? I'm starvin'." proposed Stan.

Matt laughed.

"It would be my pleasure, Mr. Pines."