Pain. That was all he could feel. Every little inch of his body, felt like it had been down the Manotaur's pain-hole. The worst part was his chest. The lack of air formed a heavy pressure, that made him want to inhale, as much as his lungs could handle. But Dipper knew, that if he did that, his lungs would be filled with the salty water around him.

He opened his eyes, but couldn't see anything. Everything was so foggy. He shut them again, fearing for splinters and other sharp things to hit him. He didn't know how far he was from the surface. He wasn't even sure whether he was facing it or not. At first he had tried to swim towards it, but each time something would knock him back down.

He suddenly felt himself bump into something hard. Dipper opened his eyes, and saw something blue. The water still kept pushing him against the metal-like surface of the object, as he let his hands run over it. He finally found something to grab onto and pulled himself up. He reached his other hand further up and felt cool wind blow against it! He was close to the surface! He let his hand go further up the blue object, until it found something to grab onto. He gritted his teeth as he pulled himself up. He finally managed to get his head above the surface and filled his lungs with the cold air around him, and coughed. He had never thought that it would feel this good to breath.

When he finally was able to breath somewhat normal, he opened his eyes again and looked at the object he was holding on to. It was a blue car. His one hand was holding on to the door-handle, the other a broken window. He used the remaining strength in his sore body, to pull himself upwards, until he was able to reach the roof of the car. His body protested at every small movement and Dipper once again gritted his teeth, until he finally managed to drag himself to the rooftop, where he laid himself flat on the back, and just breathed, with a hand holding his aching chest.

After lying like this for several minutes, he forced himself to sit up and examine himself. He skin was covered in small cuts and scrapes, and hurting stops, which without doubt would become bruises, but besides that, it didn't seem like he had gotten any serious injuries…

He looked around. All he could see, was water. Lots of palm trees were downed, and all kinds of idioms were flushing past him. How come the car wasn't moving too? He looked around, and realized that the only thing keeping it from getting flushed away as well, was a large palm tree that had been knocked down by the horrible wave…

Dipper looked inside the car, but there was no one in there. He was alone. His heartbeat started racing. He couldn't see anybody anywhere.

"Hello!" He called out. Everyone had been flushed away. "MOM!" he was breathing faster and faster. "DAD!" They had been around the pool. He had been about to dive into the water. "MABEL!" They had been so close… He had been this close to take her hand. "GRUNCLE STAN!" They were gone… they were all gone! "GRUNCLE FORD!" he kept screaming their names on the top of his lungs, not caring about the pain he felt in his chest. Why was nobody calling back? He waited, still breathing fast, hoping to hear their voices, but all he could hear, was the sound of the water, flushing past him. "MABEL! ANYONE! PLEASE!"

"Mason..!" he suddenly heard someone call. He turned around and saw his mother struggling against the strong stream to keep her head above the water.

The sight of his mother, made Dipper feel something he hadn't felt, since he was a little kid. The silly feeling, that everything would be all right, now that mom was here. Even though he knew that his mother wouldn't be able to do anything about this natural calamity, his still clung to that feeling, as he waved his arms over his head. "Mom! Over here! Over here, mom! Over here!"

"MASON!" Patricia managed to grab onto the fallen palm tree, that was holding the car. Dipper slid down from the roof of the car, to the trunk, where he laid himself flat on his stomach, to spread out his weight. He then reached his hand to his mother, who grabbed onto it, as she used the trunk to get closer to the car and closer to her son.

"Mason," she coughed. "Honey, are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm okay, mom," Dipper panted. "I'm okay."

With her son's help, Patricia managed to get up from the water and climb to the roof of the car, where she embraced her child. It was the only thing she could do, to make him feel the least bit safe.

o*o*o*

Mabel was caught in something. Something soft, warm and wet… She could hear something that sounded like a drum, near her ear. No it wasn't a drum, it was a heartbeat. A very weak heartbeat. It was a person who was holding her!

Carefully she started to wriggle, and stretched her arms, to make the person let go. The arms around her loosened up and she managed to pushed self away from the body, and out on the cold, wet ground. She laid still, breathing in some of the cold, fresh air, before she opened her eyes to see the other person beside her.

"Gruncle Stan!" she exclaimed, when she realized who the person who was lying unconscious on his side was. Mabel crawled over and pushed him to lie on his back. His body was covered in cuts, scrapes and dirt, one of his lenses in his glasses was broken, the other scratched. And he wasn't breathing!

"Gruncle Stan!" Mabel screamed. She placed her hands on his shoulders and shook him. "Wake up. Gruncle Stan! Please wake up! Gruncle Stan! Gruncle Stan!" she cried, but it wasn't working. "No, no… HELP! SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP ME!" she screamed. "HELP US! PLEASE HELP! HELP…!"

No one answered her calls. There was no one here. They were alone… All alone. The wave had taken everyone away. Dipper, mom, dad, gruncle Ford... She remembered it clearly, as the memories flashed before her eyes. She remembered Dippers scream, warning them. She remembered reaching for him, as the wave flushed over them, and forced them apart. And she remembered gruncle Stan wrapping his arms around her and holding her close, as the water forced them out of the pool and made them spin around...

"Please... don't leave me too, gruncle Stan," Mabel cried. She couldn't just let him die. She had to do something to get him back to life... but what? Dipper would know what to do, but he wasn't here. "Come on, Mabel, think!" she mumbled. They had learned something in school about this. CPR. What was it now? She knew this! "Don't worry, gruncle Stan, I'm gonna make you undead!" Mabel promised and placed her hands in the middle of his chest, even though she knew that his heart was still beating. It was the only thing she could think of…

She started pressing down, using all of her body weight. "1..2.. 3.. 4.. 5.. 6.." this had to work, it just had to. "7.. 8.. 9.. 10.. 11.." He couldn't die. He just couldn't. "12.. 13.. 14.. 15.." He had saved her life. He had used his body as a shield to make sure that none of things around them would hit and hurt her. "16.. 17.. 18.. 19.. 20.. 21.." He had save her life some many times... And Dipper's and Waddel's and gruncle Ford's. "22.. 23.. 24.. 25.." He had given everything to make sure that they were safe. It wasn't fair that he would die now! It just wasn't fair! When she reached 30 she stopped and crawled up to gruncle Stan's mouth. How was it now? She bended he head backwards, to make sure his airway was fire, before opened his mouth and blew in some of the fresh air, twice.

She then went back to his chest and started pressing again. Even though her arms were getting sore, Mabel kept counting and pressing on her gruncle chest and given him artificial respiration. She didn't care how many times she would have to do it, before gruncle Stan woke up. Cause he would, right? This would make him alive again, right? It had to! She had no idea what to do, if he left her alone here. She didn't even know where she was!

"Come on, gruncle Stan," she cried. The tears were running from her eyes as she kept pressing. "You can do it!"

After countless presses and lots of tears, water suddenly came flushing out of his mouth and he sat up with a jerk and counted violently.

Stan felt like he had been stuck in a tumble dryer for hours. But he knew that it had been much more serious than that. Even though everything seemed blurry, he knew everything around him was destroyed. Stupid water!

"Gruncle Stan!" He suddenly felt something grab his arm.

"Mabel..." he gasped. "Are you alright, sweetie?"

"Yeah, I'm okay," she answered. "I'm so glad that you're not dead!" It almost sounded like she was crying...

Stan put an arm around her. "Don't worry, sweetie, I'm fine," he promised, even though most of his body hurt like hell!

"Gruncle Stan, your foot!" Mabel exclaimed.

"What? What's wrong with it?" Stan asked. It actually did hurt a lot. More than the rest of his body. Shit, what if it had been ripped of? He doubted that he could find anything to stop the bleeding, and even worse: Mabel would see it! He knew that even if he told her to look away, the kid simply wouldn't be able to do that.

"It's twisted the wrong way!" Mabel answered.

Thank Moses, Stan thought as he reached for it. It hurt even worse when he wrapped his hand around it, but luckily he didn't have to touch it for long, before he knew that his ankle had been dislocated. Damn it!

"Does it hurt a lot?" Mabel asked. She sounded so worried.

"Don't worry, sweetie, it's not that bad," he tried to convince her. "I know it looks bad, but I can fix it."

"You can?" Mabel asked very surprised. "But you can barely see without your glasses."

"I don't need to see, to know what to do, pumpkin. It's a piece of cake really. I've done it lots of times before," he assured her. "I just need a little help from you."

"But, gruncle Stan, I've never, tried something like this before. I've once helped Soos clean Dipper's wounds and put on bandage, but I've never tried to fix an ankle before, I don't know what to do!"

"Calm down, pumpkin," Stan said, before she got too worked up. "All I need you to do, is find me a bough I can use as a crutch, okay?"

"Yeah," Mabel answered. She was starting to sound calmer. "Yeah, just leave that to Mabel!"

"Good, but don't go too far away, got it?" Stan said.

Mabel got to her feet and ran of. "Okay!"

As soon as Stan was sure that she was far enough, he sighted. He let his hands search the ground around him, until he managed to find a small piece of wood. He needed something to chew on, to make sure that he wouldn't bite of his own tongue. Got dammit this would hurt.

Some of the things he had told Mabel, were true though: he had tried something like this before. More than 30 years ago, where he had been in a fight with a gang, and he had had to take care of it himself, because he couldn't risk going to a hospital. It had hurt like hell back then and he knew that it would hurt at least as bad now.

He put his hands around the foot, and took a deep breath. "Come on, Stan, just get it over with," he told himself. He had to get it done, before Mabel came back. He couldn't let her see him like this. "1..2..3.. urh!" It hurt much worse than he remembered it, when he forced his ankle back in place. "Son of a b..." he began, and started spitting out the piece of wood that had cracked in his mouth. Yuck!

He pulled of his glasses, and tossed them away. They weren't any good no more...

Mabel was right though: he couldn't see shit without them. Everything was so blurry. It was like all the colors around him melted together in front of him... He could just make out a figure, that was moving towards him. As it came closer, he realized what it was. "Look, sweetie, I fixed the foot," he said proudly and smiled. His smile faded, when he heard her voice:

"Gruncle Stan..." she began.

"Mabel what happened?" he asked instantly. He could hear her sobbing.

"I.. I saw so many... people... so many dead people, gruncle Stan."

He heard something hitting the ground, which he assumed was the branch he had asked her to find. What had he been thinking?! He should have known that lots of people had drowned and worse, and that they would be lying all over the place! How could he have send Mabel out on her own, and risk seeing that? Stupid idiot!

"I'm sorry, pumpkin," he said. Mabel moved closer and laid her arms around his neck. He pulled her close, wanting to protect her. Protect her from all the horrors she had seen. She was an innocent child, and she didn't deserve to go through all this. "I'm sorry." He kept repeating that, like it would actually do something good, while he rocked her back and forth and she cried against his shoulder. He didn't know how long they sat like this, and frankly he didn't care either. He would sit like this for hours, if it could make the kid feel the least bit safe.

Mabel let go of him and rubbed her eyes and sniffled loudly. "I.. I didn't see mom or dad, or Dipper, or Gruncle Ford."

That was a weight off Stan's shoulders. If she had seen one of them dead, it would have destroyed her!

"What if they are dead too?" she asked.

Stan could tell that she was getting worked up again. "I'm sure they're fine, sweetie," Stan answered quickly.

"Really?" she asked.

He knew that she was looking at him, with her big puppy eyes. Just the image was more than enough to make him want to do anything to make her happy. "'Course I am," he answered. "If they could survive something like Weirdmaggedon, they can survive this too."

"But mom and dad weren't in Weirdmaggedon..."

Stan rubbed his neck. "Listen, sweetie, let me tell you something about this family. We're Pines'. And if there is one thing a Pines always has been good at, it's surviving on dumb luck. You, Dipper, Ford and me, survived Weirdmaggedon, I survived 10 years on my own, getting banned from more states than I bothered to count, Ford survived in 30 years living in other dimensions," he said and put a hand on her shoulder. "And your parents survived you and your brother for 13 years."

Mabel hesitated. "Gruncle Stan... do you really think that they are okay?"

"Yeah, sweetie. I do," he promised. "So how about that we go find them, huh?"

"Yeah let's do that!" Mabel cheered. She got up, and handed him the bough and helped him to his feet. With the bough supporting his right side, and his left hand on Mabel's shoulder, supporting him on the left, they slowly moved forward.

Stan knew that it had been wrong of him to promise Mabel that everyone was okay. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't be sure that he was right. But what else was he suppose to say: "Sorry kid, but you have to be prepared for the worst, 'cause there is a chance that the two of us are the only ones who survived"? There was no way in hell, that he could tell her that, and if anyone else dare to say something like that to her, and take away her last hope, he would knock out their teeth!

o*o*o*

Ford opened his eyes. Everything was blurry and blood was running from his forehead and down his eyes.

When the wave had hit the cabin, Ford had been forced out of the window as the water had surrounded him. He knew that the worst thing you could do, if you were trapped in a Tsunami, was trying to swim. Instead you should find something to hold onto, to keep yourself above the surface.

The wave had smacked him against palm tree, which he instantly had wrapped his arms around. Ford normally didn't believe in dumb luck, but luckily the tree had been strong enough, to stand against the massive flood. He had dug his nails into the trunk, and held on, despite of all the idioms that had hit him. Something large, had hit him in the forehead, and he knew that if he hadn't had his metal-plate, the swipe would have broken his skull and killed him. He had been let of with a large hole in his forehead and lost his glasses (not that they mattered. His he couldn't see very far, without them, but he was still perfectly cable of walking around).

Ford coughed. He knew that another wave could come in anytime, which meant that he would have to stay up here another few minutes, before it would be somewhat safe to climb down.

But as soon as he moved a little, he realized how much pain he was in. There was no doubt that his left arm was broken and the rest of his body was very sore... Well, he certainly had tried worse, his countless scars could prove that (the only one, that wasn't cause by a dangerous situation, was the one where he had his tattoo removed)...

Ford gritted his teeth, before he started to slide down the trunk. When his feet reached the wet ground, he got a chance to look around. He knew that he hadn't got far away from the hotel but everything was torn beyond recognition. There was nothing but piles of wood-pieces (which he assumed to be the remaining of the hotel), broken chairs, lots of fallen trees, sunshades, seaweed and water, all around him. Ford just stood there, frozen by the sight. It was hard to believe that they had lived in there less than an hour ago... The wave had destroyed everything on it's way, taking every single person with it. Ford felt so sorry for them. They had never know what had been coming, but the elements had shown no mercy... He knew that he had been one of the few lucky ones, who had gotten away with a few brushes.

He didn't even dare to think about how many people had drowned.

His blood ran cold. Oh no… Stanley… The others… His family! What if...? No, they had to be alive. They just had to! Ford knew that the probability for all of them to be okay, wasn't very strong, but he didn't care about that! He had to find them. As fast as possible.

Ford quickly pulled of his shirt, despite the pain in his arm. He ripped one sleeve of and managed to tie it thigh around his head. He then formed a sling with the remaining of the fabric, for his arm.

He didn't care, that people would be able to see his damaged skin. That wasn't important anymore. Stan had tried to convince him, that people wouldn't care what he looked like, but he had been too self-conscious to listen. Ever since he came back, he had been hiding his body under cloth. That was also why he had stayed inside, when everyone had been out at the pool… the computer had just been a justification...

"Stanley!" he called out as he started walking. "Dipper! Mabel! Brian! Patricia!"

Suddenly his foot hit something. Ford looked down and caught sight of a bordeaux idiom, a few inches from his feet. He bended down, ignoring his body's screaming in pain, and picked it up. "Stanley…" he whispered, when he realized what exactly he was holding in his hand. No… no! A part of him knew that this didn't have to mean that his brother was gone, but a stronger part, made his six fingers clench the fez, as he screamed on the top of his lungs: "STANLEY! STANLEY WHERE ARE YOU!?"

"Help..." A very weak cry, reached his ear. Ford instantly turned to where the sound had come from. "Help..."

It wasn't Stan. He could tell by the voice. But even though it wasn't his twin brother, he still felt like he had to help whomever it was. "Where are you?!" he called out.

"Over here," the voice answered, still very weak. "Please help me..."

"I'm coming. Keep talking!" Ford said. He placed the fez on his head.

"Over here," the voice kept calling, as Ford began the search. At first it felt like finding a needle in a haystack. He couldn't see anyone, no matter where he looked. Every time he thought that he was about to find where the person was buried under seaweed, tree pieces or worse, it seemed like the voice would come for a completely different location. Ford assumed that this confusion was caused by the concussion he probably was suffering. No matter what, he couldn't give up. He had to find the person before it was too late. Judging by the weakness in the voice, he didn't have much time.

"Over here..." the voice called once again.

Ford looked around desperately. He couldn't give up... Suddenly he saw something moving nearby the ground. He instantly moved closer, and realized that it was a hand.

"Over here..." The person was covered in seaweed and wood pieces.

Ford fell onto his knees and grabbed the hand. "I'm here," he said.

"F...Ford?" the voice said weakly.

It wasn't before now that Ford realized whom the voice belonged to. It had been too weak for him to recognized before now. "Brian?! Don't worry, I'll get you out of there."

He grabbed onto the seaweed and pulled. It didn't take long before his nephew's eyes met his.

"Ford," he repeated.

"I'm here, Brian," Ford said. "I'll have you out of there in a mome..." Ford's words died, when he pulled away more of the seaweed, that had been covering Brian's stomach. No...

A large piece of wood was sticking out of Brian's torsos. From what Ford could tell from the location, it had gone through his liver and made a fatal injury.

Brian managed to lift his head just enough to see what his uncle was looking at. He turned his head and met Ford's eyes. "There is nothing you, can do, is there?" he asked quietly.

"I'm sorry," Ford answered, and shook his head. There really was nothing to do. Even a surgeon who had the right equipment's would have difficulties saving him. Ford knew that the younger man only had minutes left. He turned his head and met Brian's eyes. "I'm so sorry."

Brian swallowed visibly. Tears started to run from his eyes, as he reached for Ford's hand. Ford instantly grabbed it. "I'm sorry, that I never was able to treat you like everyone else," he said. "You deserved better. Please forgive me..."

Ford shook his head. "Don't think about it. I've never blamed you."

"Thank you," Brian said. "Ford... could you..." Brian began, but didn't seem to be able to finish his sentence. He was too weak.

"I'll do anything," Ford said. Anything in his power to make up for his fatal mistake.

"Please... Find my family," Brian begged, looking into Ford's eyes. "Make sure that they are safe... and... Tell them, that I love them."

"I will," Ford said. "I promise, Brian."

Brian smiled weakly and nodded. His eyes became distant and Ford felt the hand loosened it's grip.

"Brian?" he said quietly, but the other man didn't respond. Ford knew that he was gone, but he couldn't accept it. "Brian? Brian!"

He finally managed to bring himself to try to find the pulse. There was none. He was gone. His nephew was dead.

"I'm sorry," Ford said. His voice cracked as his eyes was filled with tears. "I'm so sorry!" he cried out, as he leaned over his deceased nephews body. Even though he had never really gotten to know Brian, he would do anything, if it could bring him back. Ford knew that it was impossible, but he wished that he could take his place. What had he done? Oh God, what had he done? This was all his fault... he should never have invited them here... Once again he had brought the people he loved in danger, because he wanted to do something good. All he wanted, was for his family to have good time... A good time with him... But instead he had taken away Patricia's husband. He had basically killed the twin's father... And possibly them too.

"I'm so sorry!"