Chapter Nine

Oh no! The Time Thingy! It's Busted! Can You Fix It?

Dipper

Dipper didn't look up at Stanley. He shouldn't, he couldn't. Dipper knew full well Stanley and Stanford had an awful relationship. He knew that Stanley knew Mabel was a time traveler that practically "knew everything". Ugh, Mabel, why? Stanley wouldn't believe him if Dipper feigned cluelessness. Besides, that short conversation had turned Stanley's casually curious speech into a depressing one. Although Stanley didn't show it, Dipper could feel the sadness and frustration in his voice.

His great uncle had lost everything after one stupid mistake. God, what if Dipper- no. No, he shouldn't think like that. Dipper and Mabel were really close. They were best friends. Sure, they fought, but they always made up in the end. Mabel would never hurt Dipper's chances of going anywhere that could determine his future and Dipper likewise. Even if she did, Dipper would know it was an accident, it had to be. Mabel would never do that. They were best friends. Stanley and Stanford had been best friends, though…

"Hey, uh, kid."

Dipper looked up at him again. Stanley wasn't looking at him. "Yeah?"

"I know what you're thinkin'," Stanley stated, his voice plain. "Mabel's the sweetest girl I know. When she told me about how she got there, she didn't say a bad thing about you. She loves you."

Dipper nodded. "Yeah. I love her, too. We're best friends."

The front door opened.

Dipper and Stanley looked back. Mabel raced into the room, squealing her high-pitched, mosquito squeak. "Dipper! Mr. McGucket came back! He said he'd help us!"

"He's alright?"

"Yeah! He is!"

Dipper smiled. "That's so cool!"

Stanford, walking at a brisk pace, entered the room next. Fiddleford, the time machine gently held in his pocket, walked into the living room, too. He was in a relatively clean suit and tie and out of those maroon robes that still gave Dipper goosebumps. He stopped upon seeing Dipper. "Oh. You, uh, are you Dipper?"

Dipper nodded. "Yeah. I'm a human, though. Really. But… it's a long story. So, you can fix it? We can go home?"

Fiddleford nodded. "Ah believe Ah can. Ah'll need some time, but Ah think Ah can get this thing runnin' again."

Mabel flopped down by Dipper. "I told you I could find him!"

Dipper couldn't help but smile. "I didn't doubt you for a second!"

"Yes, you did."

"Yeah, I kinda did."

Stanford looked at his former partner. "You can, uh… I still have all my things where they were before. You can use those if you need to."

"Uh, thanks, Stanford. Ah appreciate it." Fiddleford's voice was a bit clipped. But it wasn't clipped like Stanley's, where he was angry with him. It was just… awkward.

Dipper looked at Mabel. She, smiling as wide as when she won Waddles, leaned toward him. "We have a few days. We can fix these broken teacups."

Dipper's grin fell a bit. "I don't know…"

"Dipper! Nothing is stronger than the power of Mabel!"

Dipper didn't respond. When Mabel put her mind to helping someone, there was no shaking her off or telling her otherwise. She was determined to make people happy. She was determined to make the world a better place. Admittedly, Dipper… respected and hoped for that.

Mabel

Mabel looked between the three men in the room. Stanley and Stanford kept sending weird glances at each other. On occasion, though, they'd tip their heads in the very slightest or glance at the kids if one looked to start up an argument.

Hmm… these two needed to settle their differences alone. How would they be able to do that…? Mabel looked at Dipper. Of course! "Hey, Dipper?"

Dipper's ears flicked forward. "Yeah?"

"Do you want to go see if the magic stream is here?" Mabel prompted.

Dipper looked at his hands. "Well, I would but… I can't run around."

"Then you need deer crutches! Ford said he knew how to make them!" Stanford winced. "We can go out and make sure that it's not here so they don't get cursed."

Dipper hunched his shoulders. "Well…" He met her gaze. Come on, Dipper, we're not actually concerned about the stream, right? Dipper's ears flicked forward. "You know, that's a good idea. Uh, Ford? Mabel and I want to make sure that the magic stream isn't here so you guys don't get turned into monsters. Is that okay?"

Stanford bit his tongue. "I don't think it's wise for you two to be going out on your own."

Dipper waved his hand. "We've done it before. We've taken on plenty of things!"

"Plus, we have that place watch!" Mabel pointed to the wristwatch Dipper had.

"That's true…" Stanford agreed.

"What? They're twelve, Poindexter! Didn't you say there were monsters around here or something?" Stanley immediately cut in.

Mabel pointed to Dipper. "Monster."

"I'm not!" Dipper squawked. "I'm still a person! I'm just… cursed. We won't be out for long, G- Ford. Really."

"They have a point," Stanford stated slowly. "Besides, if they run into any trouble, they do have that teleporter. That and Dipper hasn't moved from his spot in days."

Stanley sighed. "They can run around in the yard." He looked between them. "But whatever. You be careful out there, alright?"

Mabel nodded with a grin. "We'll be careful!"

Soon enough, Dipper was strapped down to a wheelchair and the younger twins left the Shack. Dipper, once they were in the tree line, took out Journal 3 and looked through it. "And… here! Okay, so, the stream should be this way." Dipper looked up. They were already walking in the right direction.

Mabel held her hands behind her back. "They just need to hug it out! I'm sure that with enough hard work and patience, we can make them both happy!"

Dipper nodded. "I hope so."

Mabel's smile was lost. "Don't look so down, Dipper! We'll get this fixed."

Dipper sighed. "Mabel, I… I don't know." He looked back at his sister. "What if we can't? What if they don't forgive each other by the time Mr. McGucket fixes the time machine?"

"We can stay after, right?"

Dipper shook his head. "Mabel, we've messed up the timelines enough. What if… what if there isn't a future to go back to?"

"No!" Mabel squawked and shoved him. "Don't talk like that Dipper! We just need to work hard. Everything will turn out alright in the end!"

Dipper frowned. "Well, whatever we do, we need to do it before Mr. McGucket fixes that time machine. Once he fixes it, we'll have to leave. Unless we've stopped Mr. McGucket from using the Memory Gun, he'll go crazy after we leave. Unless they make up, Grunkle Stan will just leave again- or worse. Great Uncle Ford could try and make him leave with the first journal and then Grunkle Ford'll get stuck in the portal for thirty years!"

"Why can't we stay after?" Mabel crossed her arms.

"Because if we stay here for too long- don't you remember the time police? What happened after we stole Blendin Blandin's time machine? The time police went after him! When we used it for Soos' birthday, we had to fight in Globnar! Who knows what we'll have to do next!" Dipper threw his hands in the air. "We might get locked in time jail like Blendin! We have to leave as soon as possible."

Mabel frowned and looked at the forest before her. "I'm sure we'll get them to make up before then."

"Let's hope so." Dipper sighed and stopped. A little stream bubbled over the rocks "The stream. Is it poisoned?"

Mabel touched the water and licked her finger. "Nope! Just a regular stream."

Dipper sighed. "Okay, good!" A small smile crept up on him. "You wanna go see the lake?"

Stanford

Stanford watched the two leave before he turned to Stanley. "Okay, Stanley, here's the deal." He took a deep breath. "For as long as it takes the two to go home, I will let you stay here to watch them. But!" Stanford was quick to get to the hitch of his deal. "Once this time travel mess is over–"

"-you'll throw me out," Stanley finished, crossing his arms. "Humph. Yeah, I pretty much predicted you'd say that."

"Stanley, look. This isn't…" Stanford fumbled over his words for a bit. Shit. He really should learn to use his words more carefully… especially since Stanley can be quite hotheaded and jump to conclusions easily. "Those kids–Dipper and Mabel–sought us both out. That I understand. I know… there is more going on than Dipper has told me. Unless Mabel's told you anything of importance…?"

Stanley put down the flicker of hope that had crossed into his eyes. Even after years of separation and hell, Stanford could tell what Stanley was thinking. "No. She told me she was a time traveler and that she had a time machine and that her brother had this teleporter. I never really thought to ask."

"You weren't curious?" It was Stanford's turn to be surprised.

Stanley shrugged. Oh, he was curious, definitely. There was no mistaking it. He just didn't want to admit it. "She's twelve, Sixer. She knows a lot for a twelve-year-old, but her brother's a deer and she doesn't even know what she has. She knows it's a time machine, but I know that, too. She couldn't tell me any more about it than I could tell you." He smirked. "I bet she has time traveler parents and the kids took that thing for a spin and broke it on the way."

Stanford nodded. "That… seems plausible. Dipper seems to have some semblance of knowledge about the timelines. But he's very good at dodging whatever I ask him. In fact, I only found out he had the teleporter around the time you and Mabel arrived. But he'd know the ins and outs of that machine if he was sincerely a time traveler." He shook his head. "Wait, wait. I'm getting off track." Stanford took a deep breath. "For some reason, two time traveling children–one of whom in cursed–with a broken time machine sought us both out. Right now isn't the best time to reconcile, Stanley." Don't back down, now. He'll find out one way or the other. At least if he knows now, he'll leave as soon as he gets the chance. Wait… what if he leaves with Mabel and Dipper before the machine's fixed up? Any sane person would do that. Oh no. Nope. Nope, nope, nope. Not the time. Maybe later. "We have much work to do and I don't have a spare room. You can take the attic for now, but I have quite a bit of important work I need to get done. So, I won't be able to watch the children as well as I should."

Stanley narrowed his eyes. "You didn't look that busy volunteering yourself to go to the museum."

"We needed to find Fiddleford," Stanford crossed. "That's different."

Stanley leaned on the wall behind him. His shoulder touched the doorway into the next room. Just a few feet away, Fiddleford was at the table. He didn't seem to even know that they were there. A smirk crossed Stanley's features. Oh no. "Oh, so you're too busy to give your brother a call but as soon as Fiddleford's mentioned you're jumping at the chance to grab him?"

"Stanley, Fiddleford's our best chance at fixing this thing. I don't know if I told you that already, but he's a mechanical genius."

Fiddleford, having caught his name multiple times in just a few sentences, glanced up at them. He didn't chip in or give away his acknowledgment of the argument.

Stanley snickered. "Oh right, right. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you found yourself a boyfriend while you were at college."

"Stanley Pines!" Stanford barked. "What the- he's my friend and former partner! Our relationship is purely platonic."

Fiddleford couldn't help but laugh. "Stanley, you do realize Ah'm very happily married an' Ah have a son at home?"

Stanley leaned toward him. "You told him that, right?"

"Yes, Ah did."

Stanley

The look on Stanford's face would have been enough to kill Stanley. It's funny how many different colors Stanford could turn, even as an adult. Stanford's voice was clipped and hard, a sign of his indignant, embarrassed anger. "He was my partner in college and my research assistant here, not a romantic partner!" Okay, this was getting into a new kind of funny. Stanley had only been joking but… Hot Belgium Waffles, Stanford was flustered!

"Really?" Stanley raised an eyebrow at him. "No, that's why you didn't call me. You were too busy with your boyfriend, weren't you?"

"He is not my boyfriend, Stanley! I'm your brother, might I remind you! I'm not your sister!" "I'm your brother, might I remind you!"

Stanley laughed. "That's rich, coming from you! You don't act like my brother. No letters, no asking about me- hell, you never even called to ask if I was still alive!" Alright, Stanley. It's kind of not funny anymore.

"And you never called me. I've been in the same place for six damn years! Before that, I was still in New Jersey! Not to mention I didn't change my phone number. If you'd wanted a chat, you'd have called me." Stanford rolled his eyes. "I'm not the villain here, Stanley."

Okay, what? Stanley pushed himself away from the wall. "Then I guess it's me? Again? Always 'Stanley's the screw-up, Ford's the hero'! It's not like anyone complained when I was kicked out of New Jersey. Not like anyone cared."

Stanford huffed. "Don't- You got yourself thrown out of New Jersey. You do this to yourself and you won't even take responsibility- not when you're seventeen, not when your twenty-seven. You're just selfish and irresponsible and taking it out on me! You don't know what I've been through!"

Stanley bristled. "No, no. You don't understand what I've been through! I've been to prison in three different countries! I once had to chew my way out of the trunk of a car! You think you've got problems? I've got a mullet, Stanford! Meanwhile, where have you been? Living it up in your fancy house in the woods! Selfishly hoarding your college money, because you only care about yourself," he snarled, glowering at his brother, well aware he wasn't speaking at an appropriate level anymore. I dare you, Stanford.

"I'm selfish? I'm selfish, Stanley? How can you say that after costing me my dream school?!" Stanford yelled back.

Then, the time for words was starting to wind to a close. Fiddleford–the only other person in the room and the only rational one–got up and slipped out of the room, clutching the time machine with the care of brittle glass.

Stanley was the one to throw the first punch. Stanford was not at all reluctant to hit back. The two's fight quickly turned into a grapple laced with insults and heartbreak. "It was supposed to be us forever! You ruined my life!" Stanley barked, shoving Stanford back into a wall, where he broke a shelf.

"You ruined your own life!" Stanford countered, kicking him square in the chest. Stanley let go and hit the door to the kitchen. He grabbed onto the lip of the doorway, barely managing not to get his fingers hooked between the cracked door and the doorframe.

It was all because of that stupid science fair, wasn't it? No matter what Stanley said, he knew he was in the wrong. He'd broken that dumb experiment because he was the selfish one. He didn't think of it as anything but an accident because he was too irresponsible to own up to the fact that he had been jealous. He was just the dumber, sweatier version of Stanford. He was the spare, the throw-away, the one only good enough for a kidney transplant if Stanford fell ill or a cushion if Stanford was ever pushed down. Stanley just didn't want to accept that and ended up dragging them both down with him. At least Stanford got a nice house, a nice partner, and all the mysteries he could play with.

The door to the kitchen buckled and broke, sending Stanley sprawling over the linoleum amongst wood splinters and a metal handle he didn't remember grabbing. Oh, ow. Ow. Stanley put a hand to his head and glared up. "Oh no. I'm so sorry! Are you alright?" Stanford's words came back to him. Although he'd have listened to him normally–in fact, some small part of him was alerted by the sudden change in tone Stanford had taken–pain and hate caused him to kick the thing closest as he tried to get up.

Stanford yelped and stumbled back, a hand over his lower stomach. He coughed and held onto the doorframe to the hallway containing the front door and stairs with a shaky hand. Stanley's snarl faded a bit. He clambered to his feet. "Stanford?" Aw, damn. He'd forgotten how much stronger he was than Stanford. He didn't internally kill him, did he? "Are you alright?"

Stanford glanced up at him with watery eyes. He wheezed and, after a hollow cough, shook his head. "No. Er- yes." He took a few deep breaths. "Yeah." His voice was a bit stronger this time. He looked up and then around the room. "Oh."

"Oh wha-?" Oh that. The door in the kitchen had broken a hinge. The only thing clinging to the other two hinges was a few long splinters that had stayed intact. The rest of the door was in pieces on the linoleum. A few shelves were broken on the walls and a few things trampled or kicked pushed up against the wall. One of the chairs was upside down, but it would live, probably. The door to the entrance room was cracked.

"Hey, Dipper!" Mabel's yell came from far away. "I betcha I can get back to the Shack first!"

"Nuh-uh! I'm still faster than you!" came Dipper's voice.

The older twins winced and not just because of their newly acquired bruises. Did Stanley get cut somewhere along the way? Oh, Stanford wasn't standing up straight and still had an arm over his stomach.

There was a pause. Then–

"DIPPER!" Mabel's terrified scream came from the forest, just past the tree line. Stanley opened the front door. Dipper stumbled as he came to a stop. "THERE'S A GREMY-THINGY HERE!"

Dipper sucked in his breath and looked around. "I'll be right there!" He grabbed the side mirror from Stanley's car.

"Hey!" Stanley couldn't help but yell. What happened to Mabel? "What's going on?"

"Gremloblin!" Dipper yelled and, clutching the sideview mirror line a lifeline, struggled to hop away. He untied the ropes binding him and turned his stumble into a smooth bound. He easily cleared obstacles with feet to spare or darted around or between them with ease. Pink bloomed on his bandages as a stitch tore.

"Gremloblin?" Stanley turned back to his brother.

Stanford had paled considerably and his eyes grew round as moons. He grabbed the crossbow from beside the front door and sprinted into the yard. "Don't look it directly in the eyes! Stay calm, we're coming to get you!"

"What's a gremloblin?" Stanley shouted after Stanford, taking off as well. Fiddleford, what looked like a bulbous gun in his hands, stood frozen at the door. "What the hell are you waiting for, Fiddlestick?"

A deep, throaty snarl emitted from the forest. Stanley pushed himself to run faster. He snatched a branch from a tree as he ran past one. Stanford stumbled as he ran. Fiddleford, moving as if he was being physically pulled, ran after them.

Dipper bleated as he saw the creature Mabel faced off against. The gargantuan creature stood on two legs and one hefty arm. One meaty hand grabbed Mabel, who struggled violently. Her eyes were shut tight to keep from meeting its gaze. Stanford and Fiddleford stopped dead in their tracks. Fiddleford paled considerably. Stanford's grip on his crossbow tightened. Stanley ran ahead. "What the hell is that?"

"A gremloblin," Stanford stated briskly. He raised his voice. "Don't look into its eyes!"

"It's eyes?" Stanley prompted. He looked at the branch in his hand–which was much to hefty to throw–and then the monster. He took something out of his pocket and whistled. The gremloblin's ears flicked forward at the noise. It roared and shook its head as Stanley's mostly empty water bottle struck it straight in the eye.

Stanford gasped. "Oh no! Stanley you idiot! You can't throw water on a gremloblin!"

"What? Why not?!"

The monster fell forward, snarling and shuttering. Spikes popped out of its back and wings sprouted from its shoulders. It tipped its head back and roared, bursting a hole in the canopy with a stream of hot fire.

"That will happen."

Stanley snapped a glare at his brother. "Then how do we kill this thing?!"

"I-I don't know!" Stanford admitted. "I hit it on the head with my magnet gun last time we- oh no. Stanley, don't!"

Stanford was too late. Stanley had charged the monster. The gremloblin dropped Mabel and swatted the branch out of Stan's hands. Stan, glaring straight into the monster's eyes like he'd done with every other monster he'd faced off again, froze. His deep brown eyes turned gold.

Stanley put a hand on his head. There was nothing in his hands. He was on his knees. Huh? What was he doing on his knees in some sort of metal room? Wasn't he in the forest in front of his brother's cabin? Stanley looked about with bleary eyes. Where was he? Where was the… monster…

Stanley's eyes widened. He scrambled to his feet and ran forward. The forest monster wasn't there. Smeared against the gray was red. There was a door nearby, he just noticed that. It was open and led out into a cluttered little pawn shop. Someone stood above him. He wore a familiar face, one he'd seen so many times, none in good circumstance. A gun was in the man's hands, but that's not what mattered. What mattered was the mess before him.

In a heap of bloody clothes was his frazzled old brother. One six fingered hand was on the ground pointed toward a shattered crossbow. His other hand–one finger cut off–rested by his face, covering a bullet wound. Nearby, curled up around a wound in her belly, was little Mabel. Dipper was there, his body shot through like a buck. The slender form of Stan's mother was there in the carnage as was the massive form of their father. No one moved, not even a little to show any type of breathing.

Stanley, choking on words, looked up. Rico spoke, his voice colder than ice, his smile venomous as a viper's. "Congratulations, Stanley. Your debt's been paid."

Dipper reared, holding his front legs up to his chest and wobbling a bit on his back ones. He was taller than Stan, now. "Hey, monster!" The infuriated gremloblin whipped around and glowered at him. Dipper held the mirror between him and the monster. "Take a look at this!"

The gremloblin snarled and glowered at the mirror Dipper held. However, after only a few seconds staring into its own glowing gold eyes in the mirror, it shrieked, dropped Stanley's gaze, and clumsily ran off into the forest, hands over its eyes and feet breaking branches and trampling brush as he went. It sprouted wings and launched itself into the air, breaking a few trees as it went. Stanford shook his head and blinked the gold out of his eyes. The smells and sounds of the forest and his very alive family came back to him.

Mabel sat up. "Haha! Yeah!" She jumped up and held up her hand. "Mystery Twins!"

"Mystery Twins!" Dipper fist-bumped her, laughing as well. He looked back with a wide grin. Stanford and Fiddleford stared at the duo. Stanford's crossbow fell out of his hands.

Stanley rubbed his eyes and laughed. "Ha! That beast ran cryin'!"

Mabel nodded. "We beat one of those things before!"

Dipper sat down. "Yep. Mabel accidently threw water on it."

"You caught it!" Mabel was quick to remind him.

Stanley huffed. "Now that sounds like a story."

"Is it ever!"

Stanford cleared his throat and picked up his weapon. "You've defeated one of those… before?"

The twins nodded. "Yep," Dipper confirmed. "It's a really long story, but we managed to drive one off that broke into the Shack!"

"You kinda trapped it and brought it back, bro."

"I kept it in a locked cage," Dipper denied. "You gave it the key."

"It was a staff member! Sorta!"

Mabel threw her hands up in the air. "And then it grabbed me! Dipper said not to look into its evil eyes because you could see your worst nightmare. So, I said: 'I wish we had an evil eye we could give it'!"

Dipper nodded. "I mean, I was surprised we didn't think of it earlier. What could defeat a stage two gremloblin? A mirror! It saw its own worst nightmare and ran away- er, flew away."

"Fascinating," Stanford breathed, his journal in his hands. "And neither of you were affected by the monster's gaze?"

Dipper shook his head. Mabel admitted, "I kinda saw it, but only for, like, a second."

"Man, yeah," Dipper agreed, his smile leaving him a bit. "I couldn't imagine a worst nightmare."

Mabel looked at him and nodded, her own smile falling a bit. "Yeah." She brightened again. "But we never saw it again! And we fixed up the Shack good as new."

Stanley watched the two talk. Dinner–which Stanley insisted he make since Stanford didn't know the right end of a spatula and he was supposed to switch out Dipper's stitches again–was spread out around them and mostly eaten. Well, some food still stuck to Mabel's and Dipper's plates. It was most likely due to the fact that neither of them had stopped talking. Stanley was oddly fine with that. These kids weren't annoying, which he was a bit surprised by. Maybe it's because they saved the day. Maybe it's because when he saw Mabel chatter on in much grandeur about the monster they'd found and Dipper added some details for clarification, he was reminded of another duo of kids that would do that.

"An' it was this big! Seriously! It could've eaten us!"

"It was very large- bigger than Mrs. Nancy's dog."

"And we beat it back with a stick!"

"We found a plank nearby. This one didn't shatter immediately."

"It ran cryin'! You shoulda seen it!"

"And then we fixed up the Shack good as new and no one would've been the smarter." Mabel nodded her head. "Except, uh…"

"The bills," Dipper replied. "And the whole thing from Soos. He was there, kinda."

Stanley tried not to look at that southerner mechanic cultist or whatever. The man kept sending odd glances his way. The way he looked at that gremloblin… that man had to know something he wasn't letting on. Maybe Stanford wasn't the only expert on them.

Stanford.

Stanley kept his plastic smile and tried focusing on the kids. Mabel was telling another tale now. Gnomes? Yeah, something to do with gnomes. Dipper rolled his eyes. Still, Stanley couldn't focus on him. Weird. In that fight, as he looked up into that monster's eyes, he… wasn't there.

Stanley tried to shake the thought, but it wouldn't leave him. Even though it had only been a few seconds, the image of his mistakes lashing out at others stuck with him. Even after he'd opened his eyes to see the terrified monster fleeing, it had taken a moment to collect himself enough to know he was in the forest with his living family. It took him a moment to make himself presentable, as if nothing had happened.

Maybe that's why that Fiddleford guy was looking at him. Maybe he knew people saw horrible things when you looked into its eyes. What if he'd been a victim of its gaze? What if… that guy knew how to help with it? To solve it? To somehow make him unsee this? He'd have to ask him later. It was probably nothing. You couldn't just erase memories. Though, if you could, if someone could erase bad memories, that would be… well, that would solve a lot of problems.