A/N: WOW THIS TOOK A MILLION YEARS! sorry...

So this is kind of part 1.5... I wanted to show how Stan finds out and it ended up getting lengthy so now you get a three-shot... whoops!

but dont worry. the final part shouldn't take anywhere near as long as this one did! I've just been busy working on my other fics and school and family and life... anyway, here goes!

"Alright, Poindexter. We need to talk."

Ford tensed visibly, probably peeved that Stan had entered his precious lab without permission, but Stan couldn't care less right now. Whatever super secret paranoid sci-fi nerd thing his brother was up to, it could wait. There were more important things to talk about now.

Stan had just closed the shack after sending off the day's final round of tourists, and he had really been looking forward to sitting back in his chair and just watching Baby Fights and turning off his mind. There was only one thing he had to accomplish before hunkering down for the night: a trip to the bathroom.

That was where he caught Mabel standing in front of the mirror in a tank top, staring sadly at her reflection like she was searching for something that she couldn't find.

"Hey," Stan said softly, putting a gentle hand on his niece's shoulder. "Ya doin' okay, kid?"

Mabel jumped a bit at her grunkle's touch, then turned to look at him and grinned brightly, a soft rosy-pink tinging her cheeks. "I'm okay, Grunkle Stan."

"Ya lookin' for Bloody Mary or somethin'? 'Cause I don't think it works with all the lights on." He stooped down to her level and offered a smile.

The girl giggled, and it filled the old man's chest with fondness and warmth. "No, I was just…" Her smile faded as she trailed off, biting her lip hesitantly. "I was just looking at myself."

"What for?"

"Um…" She hesitated, avoiding Stan's gaze as she felt her ears start to heat up. "Grunkle Ford told me when I start feeling bad about myself, I should focus on the things I like, even if they're little things."

Stan smiled to himself a little bit, remembering a time when he was younger and had to tell Ford the same thing. "That's good advice," he affirmed with a nod, but then he frowned and gently brushed a piece of hair from Mabel's cheek. "But why're ya feelin' bad about yourself?"

"It's nothing!"

The conman's frown deepened, a crease of worry appearing on his brow. That answer came too fast, and he could tell that Mabel knew it. "Sweetie, is there somethin' you're not tellin' me?"

Mabel sighed, accepting defeat. "Please don't get mad, okay? I don't want you to do anything rash."

Stan nodded patiently.

"When I was on my date with Ren yesterday, he… He said he didn't wanna date me because I'm ugly. And then he said a lot more really, really mean things, but when I came home Grunkle Ford talked to me about it and he was really nice and I felt a lot better and then we hugged and he even watched TV with me for a little bit afterward, so it's all okay!" She rushed through her explanation like she was expecting a negative reaction from her great uncle and wanted to get through the story as fast as possible so that he wouldn't have time to process the information. It was as if she thought something would snap within her grunkle, that he would react irrationally and overprotectively and be filled with a bloodlust for her now-ex love interest.

She was a really smart girl.

She knew her grunkle well.

Stan shut his eyes tight, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists; every muscle in his body tightened as he tried to breathe through his initial reaction and decide what to say.

The silence made Mabel nervous. She had a bad feeling about whatever sort of thoughts were going through Grunkle Stan's head. (Again, she was a smart girl.)

"Grunkle Stan, please don't be mad! He's a jerk and a bully and I'm not gonna talk to him anymore. And he's still a nice guy and I don't want anything bad to happen to him, even though he was mean to me. And I feel better now! Grunkle Ford made me feel better. He was the only one home when it happened so I told him everything and he did a really good job and everything is good and happy now in the world of Mabel Pines, do not worry, don't worry one bit!"

Stan sighed, shoulders slumping, and he looked back up at his niece, a soft look in his eyes. "It's okay, Mabel," he smiled. "I'm glad you're feelin' better. And I'm glad my brother got his head outta his butt long enough to help."

Mabel chuckled a little bit at her grunkle's words.

"If he ever puts his head back up there, remember ya always got your brother to turn to if ya need a bit of comfort. A twin's the best thing ya can ask for when you're feelin' down about yourself."

The twelve-year-old nodded with a small smile.

"And if ya ever wanna talk to someone who's not a huge dork, I'm your guy. I'm always up for some quality time with my favorite niece."

Her smile stretched into a beaming grin and she threw her arms around her grunkle's neck. "Thank you, Grunkle Stan!"

He pat the twelve-year old on the back, smiling fondly at the physical affection. "Heh… No problem, sweetie. Can't have ya down in the dumps, now, can I?" As a last-minute quip to preserve his selfish image, he added, "It's bad for business."

She chuckled, planting a firm kiss to the side of his head before pulling back from the hug. "Thanks for not getting too mad at Ren… I know you wanna protect me, but I just don't want you doing anything silly…"

Every muscle in Stan's face clenched up at the mention of the little brat's name. He smiled tightly, ruffling Mabel's hair before standing back up. "Now, go run upstairs. It's past bedtime, ya gremlin."

Mabel didn't have to be told twice; she scurried away, calling over her shoulder as she went, "'Night, Grunkle Stan! I'll see you in the morning!"

"G'night, kid," Stan called back, keeping the smile in his voice even as it faded from his face.

He had a bone to pick with his brother.

"Stanley." Ford's voice was firm, bordering on scolding. With short, quick movements, he struggled to hide something in his desk before turning to face his brother. "What are you doing down here?"

"Wanna tell me why my niece had her heart ripped out by some prepubescent twerp and I didn't find out till just now?"

Ford's nostrils flared, his face coloring with anger, but there was something in the scientist's expression that seemed distinctly different from when he was angry with Stan. It was more like he was tensing at the mention of Ren. "It wasn't my place to tell you. You and Mabel obviously have a strong bond, and I didn't want to overstep my boundaries by talking to you before she had the chance."

Okay, that was actually a pretty good point. But still. "She didn't wanna tell me 'cause she thought I'd get pissed and wanna beat the kid up."

"Was she wrong?"

"Of course not!"

"Then what's the issue?"

"The issue, Brainiac, is that if you already knew about it, then why didn't you beat the kid up?!"

Ford scoffed. "Believe me; it took more self control than I'm proud of."

Stan wasn't surprised to see that Ford seemed just as enraged by the situation as he was; it had become clear by now that Ford cared deeply for the niblings, even if he hadn't known them long, and Stan knew from experience that the fastest way to get his analytical brother's blood boiling was to hurt the people he loved (which, once upon a time, meant hurting Stan, but that was a story for a different time). Receiving confirmation that Ford hadn't lost his protective instincts just made it infinitely more frustrating that the asshole who hurt Mabel wasn't already six feet underground. "Self control?! Who gives a crap about self control when he made her cry?!"

"I don't-" Ford heaved a frustrated sigh, running a hand down his face. He stood and walked over to his brother. "I was waiting for Mabel to tell you because I can't go out there by myself. I need your help."

Now, that came as a surprise to Stan. He narrowed his eyes, taking a small, suspicious step backward. "Whaddaya mean?"

A vindictive little smirk found itself on Ford's face. "Two angry men are much scarier than one."