Dipper and Mabel watched from their bedroom window as their grunkle and Fiddleford drove away. Once they'd gone, Dipper started excitedly rearranging his author board. Mabel set up a tea party for her toys.
"Mabel, do you realize how much this changes?" Dipper asked.
"Huh?" she said looking up.
"Grunkle Stan was living in Gravity Falls at the same time as the Author and he was friends with McGucket!"
"So?"
"Isn't it obvious?" he asked, "Grunkle Stan might know who the Author is."
"Lot's of people were in Gravity Falls back then," she said, "Are you going to interview them all? Most people who could have told you anything had their memory erased anyway. Besides, even if Grunkle Stan did know something, he'd never tell us. You know how defensive he gets when you mention anything supernatural and we're already grounded. It's a good thing he grounded us on a Sunday and not a Monday or we'd be stuck up here forever."
"But Grunkle Stan and McGucket must have been really good friends," Dipper persisted, "I've never seen him be that nice to someone. Plus, with McGucket living here, I'll get to ask him lots more questions."
"I think you should let Mr. McGucket get settle in a bit first, Bro Bro. It's probably been really hard for him. He's only just starting to remember things and he doesn't need you pestering him."
"I'm not going to pester him. I just want some answers."
"Well be is nice about it, is all I'm saying," Mabel said arranging her toys in tiny chairs, "I like Mr. McGucket. Since he's going to be living here, I'm going to ask him if I can call him Uncle Fiddleford… or should that be Grunkle Fiddleford?" she pondered.
Just then they heard someone coming up the stairs and a moment later Wendy came in. Dipper quickly started tidying up his half of the bedroom. He might have been over his crush on her but that didn't mean he was comfortable with Wendy seeing how messy his room was.
"Don't tidy up 'cause I'm here. You've seen my place and it's a tip," she said. Then she grinned, "You guys are never going to believe what I saw earlier."
"What?" they both asked.
"I was totally just chilling on the roof, avoiding work, when I saw McGucket come over. I hadn't seen him since we helped him get his memories back so I went down to see how he was doing. However, when I got there, Stan was giving him the biggest hug ever. I couldn't hear what they were saying but Stan closed the shop so he could talk to him."
"I told you something was going on!" Dipper told Mabel triumphantly.
"They were friends," Mabel said with a shrug, "We already knew that or Grunkle Stan wouldn't be letting him move in here."
"Wow, hold up," Wendy said her eyes widening, "You're saying Stan's actually doing something nice for someone and there's no profit involved?" they nodded, "Dudes, what colour is the sky today because this is totally weirder than all the strange stuff that happens around here."
"I know, right?" Dipper said excitedly, "This has got to mean Grunkle Stan knows something he's not telling us. He wouldn't just do this for anyone. The only reason he let me and Mabel stay over for the summer was because mum and dad were desperate. Plus, they gave him some money to cover our food and stuff. That, and he doesn't have to pay us for all the work we do around here."
Just then they heard the sound of a car approaching and a horn honked. Wendy glanced out of the window.
"My ride's here," she said, "You guys want to come hang out with us?"
"I wish we could but we're grounded," Dipper said, "I think Grunkle Stan really meant it this time when he said we'd be in trouble if we don't listen to him."
"Shame, we always have more fun when you two tag along," she said with a sigh, "I'll catch you both on the flip side." With a wave she headed down the stairs.
Dipper went back to arranging his author board while Mabel started pouring imaginary tea into toy cups and giving them to her stuffed animals. Dipper pinned a new piece of string to Fiddleford's photo.
"Mabel, do you have any spare photos of Grunkle Stan?" he asked.
"Sure," she said getting up and pulling a stack of photos from her bedside cabinet, "I only use the best photos for my scrapbook and these ones didn't make the cut."
She passed them over to him and then went back to playing. Dipper flicked through the pile until he found a half decent one of Stan. It was from their fishing trip near the start of the summer. He stuck it to the board, then pinned the other end of the string to the photo, connecting the two pictures. He sat back and put his head on one side, looking at all the new connections he'd made.
"I'm going to find Waddles and watch TV with him," Mabel said suddenly, distracting him, "Keep an eye out and warn me when Grunkle Stan and Uncle Fiddleford get back."
"Will do," he said as she headed for the stairs. Then he picked up the Journal and started looking through it for any mention of his grunkle.
Fiddleford had calmed down by the time they reached the Mystery Shack again. Stan was still giving him worried looks out of the corner of his eye so Fiddleford made his fake smile a little wider. It was bad enough that Stan was going to trouble for him without having to worry about him as well.
Stan and Fiddleford both grabbed some of Fiddleford's things for the back of the car and headed form the house.
When they got inside, Fiddleford heard the sound of the telly being switched off and someone hurrying up the stairs. Stan's mouth twisted up at the corners in a wry smile as he shook his head.
"Those damn kids never listen to a word I say," he muttered, then he turned to Fiddleford, "Come on, Nerd. Let's get you settled in."
"Umm, where am I going to stay?" Fiddleford asked.
"Your old room of course. Where else?" Stan said.
"I had a room here?"
"Well, yeah," Stan said trying not to let his sadness at the fact that Fiddleford didn't remember show in his face or voice. As he led the way he said, "Well, to be accurate, it was our guest room but sometimes when you and Stanley had a particularly late night in the lab, you'd stay over."
They reached the corridor where his brother's old room – now Soos' break room – was situated. Stan stopped a pained expression on his face.
"You okay, Moron?"
"Huh? Fine, I'm fine," Stan said as he started moving again. Then a smile spread across his face, "You called me Moron again."
"Well if the name fits…" Fiddleford said with a small genuine smile on his own face.
Opposite Stan's brother's old room was a battered wardrobe. Stan put down Fiddleford's things and with a grunt of effort dragged the wardrobe further down the corridor revealing a wooden door which had been hidden behind it.
Fiddleford stared at the door. He was sure that he should feel some connection to it but he felt nothing. It didn't trigger any new memories. It was just a door and he couldn't help feeling slightly disappointed.
Stan, who'd been watching his face, gave a small sigh and opened the door. He stepped inside and pulled a cord hanging from the ceiling. For a few seconds nothing happened then a light flickered on revealing the room.
It was a small room. Fiddleford could make out a bed opposite the door and a boarded up window in the left wall. There was also a chest of drawers and swivel chair at a desk. The furniture was covered in sheets that had once been white but were now covered in a deep layer of dust. Fiddleford still felt no connection to the room or its contents but he was grateful for it nonetheless.
"Sorry about the dust," Stan said, "This room's been closed for a long time but I'll have it cleaned out in no time. Hang on," and he was gone. A minute later he returned with a dustpan and brush, and a crowbar. It took him only a few moments to un-board the window. As the wood splintered and fell away, natural light filtered into the room for the first time in almost thirty years.
Fiddleford put down his possessions and entered the room to help. He pulled the sheets off the furniture and sent dust flying everywhere. When he took a breath he couldn't help breathing in the dust and he doubled over coughing. Stan was by his side in a second, pulling him out of the room and into the dust free corridor.
"You okay, Nerd?" Stan asked patting Fiddleford on the back, trying to help but underestimating his strength and almost sending the smaller man flying.
"I will be when you stop hitting me, Moron," he said giving Stan a half hearted glare once he'd caught his breath.
Stan chuckled, "Yeah, yeah. I wouldn't have to if you could breathe properly. Go take a break," he instructed, "Find something to eat in the kitchen or watch the TV and I'll finish up in here."
"Are you sure? Shouldn't I help?" he asked uncertainly, "I mean, you've already done so much and…"
"No," Stan interrupted in a voice that held no room for argument, "We've been over this, Nerd. I'm helping you 'cause I want to. Right now, I want you to go rest. I don't want you choking so just let me clean this room and then you'll have somewhere to get a decent night's sleep for once."
"Yes. Sorry. Of course," Fiddleford said realising that he would be less of a bother if he was out of the way.
"And quit saying sorry."
"Sorry Stanford," Fiddleford said automatically. A moment later he realised what he'd said and his hand flew his mouth, it covering, as his eyes took on a frightened look like a deer caught in the headlights. Stan silently cursed himself for putting that expression there. After a few moments Fiddlford removed his hand and said, "S… I um… I apologize for saying that all the time. I'll take a look around the Shack and see if I can still find my way about it. I'll stay out of your way."
"You don't need to stay out of my way, Nerd," Stan said in a softer voice, "But feel free to look around. It won't take me long to get this old room cleaned out. Call me if you need anything and I'll be there."
Fiddleford nodded and almost ran away, his shoulders hunched. Stan watched him go and made a mental note to stop telling him not to say sorry. Every time he did it only seemed to scare him and make him want to apologize even more. With a sigh he turned back to Fiddleford's room and got to work.