From Captain Kitty5459: "I love your story! It is awesome how you add character thoughts to the episodes. Anyways, could you write one with Grunkle Stan's thoughts during the end of Gideon Rises and the beginning of Scaryoke (when he's opening the portal)? Thanks"
Thank you, I'm glad you're enjoying the one-shots! As for your request, why not? All aboard the feels train! (because I love episodes with major feels whoops and Stan is a major source for this)
Enjoy!
In The Dark Gloom
Stan would never admit it aloud, but he had grown to care for his great-niece and great-nephew more than he had expected (to be honest, he had never anticipated liking the two at all, but life was crazy like that). The protective urge in his gut hissed at him to go check on the kids after this whole fiasco with Gideon (thank goodness that was taken care of now) so after giving it a couple hours, he found himself at the attic door, peering in cautiously.
Mabel was already setting up her posters and unpacking the monstrous bag carrying her sweaters (gosh, how did she fit all of those in there?), and Dipper was rifling through his own suitcase. Both looked up at the sound of the door opening and Stan stuck his head in further, trying not to appear awkward as his great-niece greeted him cheerfully.
"Uh, you kiddos settlin' back in okay?"
"Yep! All my favorite moldy spots on the ceiling are still there!" Mabel chirped, looking up at the ceiling with a wide smile. "Even you, Daryl."
Okay, maybe she was a bit odd sometimes, but hey, it ran in the family.
Dipper shifted nervously, as if trying to think of the best way to speak his mind. "Hey, Grunkle Stan? Me and Mabel have been talking, and I think there's something we should finally tell you."
Well, this was new. Stan decided to humor the kid and sat down on the edge of his bed, watching as the twins came to his side. Wait, what was Dipper handing him, some sort of book - ?
Stan felt all of the air leave his lungs in one second as he took in the sight of the number three upon the cover of the worn journal. No, it couldn't be. After all these years... How on earth had the kid found it?
He silently flipped through the pages, tuning out his great-nephew's speech as he took in the sight of the creatures and supernatural oddities on each page. It was all here. Memories stirred in the depths of his brain, memories of his portal under the Shack, and he knew he couldn't tell the kids what this truly was. He couldn't drag them into this mess, not when he was suddenly so close to getting what he wanted.
"I'm glad you showed me this, Dipper," he said quietly, closing the book. At least that part would be sincere.
Within moments, he was laughing, plastering a smile upon his face. "Hah! Now I know where you've been getting it all from! Spookums and monsters. This kooky book has been filling your head with crazy conspiracies!"
Stan forced himself to ignore the ache in his heart at the sound of the boy protesting as he ruffed the younger's hair. It's for his own good. "You gotta quit reading this fantasy nonsense for your own good. Although some of these would make great attractions! Can't come up with this stuff! Mind if I borrow this?"
As he spoke, he was already heading towards the door, fully intending to hide his newfound discovery from his great-nephew. He couldn't let him keep it, not after everything that had happened so long ago. What if something happened to him or his sister?
He continued scoffing and laughing at the journal, even after he made it to his office and locked the journal in his safe. He had to be careful, after all.
Stan knew he couldn't ignore the third journal (and the second, which he had stolen finally from Gideon earlier) but he couldn't go work on his project under the Mystery Shack just yet. Not while daylight was still present and the twins were awake. Later.
INTHEDARKGLOOMINTHEDARKGLOOMINTHEDARKGLOOMINTHEDARKGLOOM
Stan breathed a sigh of relief as he exited the elevator, having waited until the dead of night (when he was absolutely certain that both of the kids were asleep) to descend down into the gloom of the vending machine lab. He moved to his desk, pointedly not looking at the photograph of two familiar twelve year old faces sitting in plain sight, and withdrew the first journal from inside. A sense of both ecstasy and dread filled his heart as he realized how close he was now.
It'll all be over soon, kids. I promise.
"After all these years..." he murmured, setting the journal down on the desk once more. He placed the others of the trio beside it, memories swirling in his head as he stared down at the three things he had searched for long and hard for so long.
"Finally, we have them all."
He opened each to the page, the page with the blueprints written on it, and placed them all together as they formed the shape of a familiar machine. He carefully typed in all of the coordinates written, praying he didn't stumble now.
A sudden bright glow came from in front of him, and Stan's eyes widened in shock as he took in the sight of the portal aglow with blue light. It's really happening. It's really happening!
"It's working!"
Stan leapt out of his chair and tore into the room with his beloved machine, the cold floor under his worn slippers seeming to buzz with energy as he ran. He stared up into the portal, fumbling for the switch and grunting as he pushed with all of his strength left in his body. Gosh, he was getting too old for this.
The portal glowed brighter, the coordinates he had missed calculating themselves into the machine's network. He found himself holding his breath as he waited. He watched as the blue glow nearly blinded him, bursting as everything finally began shifting into play.
He placed his hands on his hips, a broad smile creeping onto his face.
"Here we go."
The machine continued to work as he stared proudly up into the light. He had never felt so satisfied and ecstatic in... well, in a very long time. Stan found himself beginning to talk to himself aloud through the humming of the portal.
"Thirty years, and it's all led up to this. My greatest achievement!" He glanced down and frowned at the sight of his pajamas. Oh.
"Probably should've worn pants."
A burst of fire leapt from the machine, hitting the aged man on the shoulder. He cried out and patted it out before allowing himself to smile.
"Feisty. I like it."
He hurried back to his desk, pulling a few switches as he felt the machine practically purr in reply. Yes, everything was definitely good.
"If I finally pull this off, it'll all have been worth it." Stan sat down in his chair, thinking out loud more to himself than anything. "I just have to keep playing it cool, if anyone finds out about this..."
His thoughts and gaze shifted to the twins, his brown eyes finding the picture on his desk for the first time that night. A sense of guilt filled his heart as he recalled Dipper's pleas for him to believe him. Hopefully he could make it up to the kid later. He didn't need to keep the third journal forever, after all. Maybe he'd make a few photocopies of the pages he required still.
The man forced himself to scoff as he donned the six-fingered glove and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. I've come this far. Who could possibly catch me now?"
Feels, anyone?
Stan & the twins feels are the worst... and the most fun to write. I hope I did a decent job of writing your request, Captain Kitty5459!
Any requests?
