... Remember when I said I planned this story to have ten or so chapters? It... It's probably going to bave more than that... This is what happens when I try to write short stories. I mean, Reality (It's terrible by the way, don't read it unless you're really desperate for a MaBill story.) was only supposed to be five, and before I knew it there were thirty-three chapters. So... Yeah...
Disclaimer: I don't own Gravity Falls.
Stan awoke from his nap feeling refreshed. Other than some strange dream about a triangle, he had slept well. It was only early in the morning however. He had been up late the previous night, trying to find a place that would lend him a tractor trailer on short notice. He had succeeded, which made it all worth it.
The pink rays of the rising sun had gotten in his eyes, which was what had awoken him in the first place. Stan lay on the couch, wondering if he could fall back to sleep. However, that did not seem to be the case. The more he stared at the various mold spots on the den ceiling, the more awake he felt. But not only did he feel more alert, something felt... Wrong. He tried to understand what felt off. After a few silent seconds, he realized that his mouth felt strange.
A little exploration with his tongue supported the thought. He did not have any teeth in his mouth, only gums. Hadn't he fallen asleep with his dentures in? Sure it wasn't safe, but he hadn't died yet. Plus Soos did weird things with his teeth when he took them out. Stan sat up, and looked around the den. He saw no sign of his dentures. They were not resting on the coffee table or on the floor. Where else could they possibly have gotten to?
With a groan, he got to his feet. He stretched, trying to work the stiffness out of his back. He rotated his shoulders and bent his knees, trying to limber up a little more. Old age was awful. At least his slippers were still by the couch. He slipped them on, and adjusted his glasses.
Hearing sounds coming from the kitchen, he headed there first. Dipper was sitting at the counter with a fresh bowl of cereal. He had picked up the morning paper, and was sorting through the sections. His face was blocked by the paper, and he did not bother to lower it when Stan cleared his throat.
"Dish yoush shee my denturesh?" Stan asked.
"Your dentist?"
"Denturesh. You row. Teesh!"
"A thief took your dentist?" Dipper inquired. "I thought security was more important to you than that."
Stan opened his mouth and showed off his bare gums.
"Kid, rishen, my denturesh are mishing!"
"Oooh your dentures!" He laughed.
"Yesh, my denturesh!"
The kid's laughter stopped.
"They're probably with your sense of morals: Missing and unlikely to return."
Yikes. Well, at least he knew where they had gone now. If the kid was going to play that way, fine! He could take it! There was so much he had put up with over the years that missing dentures were not going to bother him that much! It wasn't like he needed them to eat or pronounce certain sounds without spraying waterfalls of saliva everywhere!
Just to prove that he would not let this affect him, Stan went in search of something he could eat. There was toast, which needed teeth, cereal, which also needed teeth, all that sausage he had stolen... Well, it looked like he was simply going to starve. He could live with that. He had spent most of his years on the streets starving. This was nothing in comparison! No matter what his growling stomach said.
Stan assumed that it was just a coincidence when his first pen went missing. It could have easily rolled off the kitchen table! Searching underneath turned no results, so Stan assumed it would turn up. He pulled a second pen out of his pocket and resumed writing. Yet, the next time he got up, the pen went missing again. Just out of curiosity, he left a pen on the table and exited the room.
When it came back, not only was the next pen gone, but someone had managed to lift the other two he had kept in his pocket. That was no easy feat, considering how experienced he was at pick-pocketing. Stan would have been proud if he knew which one of the little gremlins had managed it. Soos was out of the question. He was not one for subtleties. In fact, he had been, without a doubt, the worst spy Stan ever had the misfortune of encountering.
But that was what happened when your paranoid twin brother hired someone to watch your actions. Stan supposed that he deserved it, seeing as he was constantly planning revenge against him, and Ford knew it well. Soos was just a regular non-spy handy-man now. Loyal too.
He still needed to finish his stuff though. Stan went to his office and unlocked the door. He opened up a drawer. Instead of the writing utensils he had expected, there was nothing. Had he not just gotten the locks on the door changed?! Stan decided that he would give up trying to finish his work for now. Especially since all his documents had been taken when he returned to the kitchen.
With a sigh, Dipper dropped the papers and pens on the floor. He kicked them underneath the dresser and Mabel's bed. It would be a while before Stan found anything. Especially since Mabel did not want anyone (let alone Stan.) In her room. She had only let Dipper in because they needed to pack, and she seemed totally uninterested in doing it for herself. So he had been left to recover all of her sweaters, and find a way to make them fit in the suitcase. Dipper was certain such a feat was impossible. Either that or she had a wormhole somewhere.
Mabel was laying on the bed, and had built the layers of pillows around herself so she did not have to face the outside world. She was absolutely miserable, and was in a state almost worse than Sweater Town. At least he could eventually get her to take an early vacation from the place. This was different. He hadn't seen her this sad in a long time. She had never been very upset for longer than a day either...
The boy clenched his fists. He wanted to make Stan pay for what he had done. Mabel didn't though. She wasn't big on revenge to begin with. Without a doubt, Stan's actions had put her off it completely. She was afraid of turning out like him. His words had really gotten to her. Because she didn't want to get revenge, the task was left up to him. Dipper supposed so long as he didn't take things too far, it was fine. Besides, it was the least Stan deserved. A few small inconveniences was a lighter sentence when compared to the things he had originally wanted to do to him.
Luckily, they'd be out of here soon. Stan had already given them their tickets and an instruction not to lose them, or tell their parents the truth. As much as he didn't want to listen to Stan, Dipper knew that he was right. These people who wanted Stan dead were dangerous. He wasn't too interested in being scolded by his parents either. And what if they thought Ford was a bad guardian, and they never got to see him again?
He could not let that happen. He felt like Ford understood him, and they were related too! Mabel was... Different. She was his sister and they would always understand each other in a way most siblings couldn't. But knowing there was someone out there he could relate to and talk to about things most twelve-year-olds couldn't understand... He couldn't ask for much more than that.
"Hey Mabel."
From beneath the pillows, she gave a sad response of;
"Mhm?"
He patted his sister's back. She tried to swat away his hand, but couldn't when she wasn't looking at him. Dipper stopped, not wanting to aggravate her. She always used her nails when someone tried to annoy her. He did not want to be on the receiving end of the pink-and-rainbow-glitter claws that she had painted on right now.
"We're going to be out of here soon." He promised.
"I know."
"Really. And after this, we'll never have to talk to him again. You can forget all about it!"
"I don't want to forget all about it! What if we turn out like them? What if I kill someone when I grow up?"
"Mabel, Stan was just saying that stuff to get to you. He didn't really mean it."
"It sure sounded like he meant it." She mumbled.
"Hey, it'll all be over soon."
"I just want summer to be over."
"Just a few more hours Mabel. Just a few more..."
His sister pulled the bed covers over her head. At least he had tried to cheer her up a little more. It felt like he was getting nowhere with his sister. Dipper knew that it was going to take a lot more than talking to make her happy once again. Yet he did not know what to do! None of the usual things had helped! Making jokes, retrieving her stuffed animals as she kicked them off the bed...
What were their parents going to think when they saw her like this? What lie could he possibly tell them? Dipper had no idea what he would do if she didn't return to normal before they reached home. How would he explain that to his parents? Could any of this actually end well?
Once again, he cursed Stan. This was all the old man's fault. None of this would have ever happened if not for him! All he had to do was buy them a bus ticket to Gravity Falls, but he was too cheap to do so! The guy was like, a millionaire. Yet he couldn't be bothered to even use his fake money to buy tickets.
A new desire for vengeance came to mind, the more he thought about Stan. There were only so many things that he could steal from him before it got boring. If he was going to take something, it had to make an impact. Something that Stan would see eight away. See... Dipper grinned to himself. Stan's eyesight would be terrible without his glasses, and he knew exactly what he was going to do with the frames...
Stan blindly felt his way through the house, a briefcase in hand. He had everything he needed, prepped and ready for the plan. The case contained all the burglar masks and gloves needed. The chloroform had been loaded in to the back of Soos' truck. They would be taking his handy-man's vechile rather than his own. The Stanley-Mobile was easily recognizable, and they needed to be discreet.
Because his glasses had mysteriously gone missing, Stan had to leave many of the directions to Soos. He was not going to miss out just because his eyesight was a little bit fuzzy... Very fuzzy... He could barely see... The handy-man already had the map, and Stan had written out the instructions for him. By written, he meant Soos had done it for him since all his writing materials had vanished off the face of the Earth. Each instruction was less than a sentence, insuring that there would be absolutely no confusion what so ever.
None.
Hopefully.
It was nearing the evening as he prepared to leave. Stan had made sure he would not be around when the twins would leave for the bus stop. That job would be up to Soos once they arrived back. In the meantime, he would cover any evidence that they tracked in with them. That way he would not have to see the kids leave, or deal with any of the awkwardness that came with it.
"Kidsh!"
A blue blob came to the top of the stairs. A green one slowly followed after the blue blob, and was dragging its feet.
"What?" Dipper asked.
"I'm goring out and ron't be bash until late. Shroos'll drive yoush to the stashion."
"Is that all?"
No. It was not all. Stan didn't know what to say. He suddenly felt overwhelmed with things he wanted to tell the kids. None of which he knew how to put in to words. He had tried, wanted so much for them to like him. Well Ford had won that battle by a landslide, there was no doubt about that. Maybe he hadn't wanted to like them sheerly to spite Ford and get revenge.
But it was too late to bring that up. It would do nothing to improve his standing with the kids. Although, if Ford had been right about him wanting to emotionally distance himself from the twins (Which was completely wrong because Ford had no people skills and because Stan refused to believe it.) Then he should tell them that he originally planned to use them for his revenge. It didn't matter what he said now because they would be gone from what little remained of his life after this.
Tongue-tied and gradually feeling more flustered, Stan finally choked out a quick;
"Yesh."
The two blurs vanished from the top of the stairs. A lump settled in his throat. Stan swallowed hard, trying to rid himself of the feeling. Then, shaking his head, he left the house. Soos was waiting for him outside. They had a scheme to go through with. He had to keep strong after all. There wouldn't be another chance like this for a very long time.
Ford sat in his hospital bed, twiddling his thumbs. The nurse had taken away his textbooks after he refused to make friendship bracelets with him. Ford knew the nurse wanted to give him one so that the reptilians could continue to track him, even as he left the hospital for good. This left Ford with little to occupy his mind.
At least his healing was coming along well, there was nothing to worry about now. He would be discharged soon, much to the nurse's displeasure. This had lead him to more desperate measures to further their friendship. Some of which had Ford questioning whether the reptilian really wanted friendship or a host to attach its parasitic larva to. He really wasn't interested in mating at the time, especially with that nurse, but he kept acting more desperate.
"Hey Fooord!" The nurse peeked around the threshold, waving a phone in his hand.
His own cell phone. Ford did not know how the reptilians had gotten a hold of his, but there were no doubt even more tracking devices within it than before. He would never have any reason to use it again. Ford found it more concerning that the nurse had stolen one of his belongings though.
"Yes?"
"You've gotta' call from this guy claiming to be your nephew. And, I know puberty can make kid's voices change, but this seems a little too deep, even for P- Dipper."
"Dipper is my great-nephew." He hastily explained. "Hand me the phone!"
"I don't see what's so great about him." The nurse mumbled, giving him the phone.
Ford just rolled his eyes. The nurse rolled his eyes in response. He decided to linger, wanting to hear what the man was talking about. Besides, he needed to ask Ford who this Rick Sanchez person he had been texting was. The only scientific annoying friend in his life should be him! The nurse! Wait, didn't he have a name? What was that again? He... He'd been so in character as Ford's new best friend that he had completely forgotten!
Well, that didn't really matter, he could get over constantly forgetting what his fake names were. He hadn't waited thirty years to slip up a second time just because Ford had better annoying best friends. He would be the annoyingest and the bestest until they were caught up on schedule with the proceedings.
"Look, here's the problem with that- Yes, I understand, but at the moment I'm in the h- Yes, I understand that too-"
While he had been annoyed before, Ford gradually turned paler. He swallowed and slowly started to agree with whatever his nephew was saying. Something told the nurse that his friend looked to be in a bit of trouble. Despite the fact that he was on the phone, he nodded along with the words.
"Yes, yes, of course! I-I understand! They're no burden at all!"
His hands were noticeably trembling now.
"S-South Africa you say? With absolutely no phone reception? T-the rest of s-summer?"
There was a short response from his nephew.
"D-don't worry about the short n-notice! I-I-m sure you were busy just getting those two out of the house! We'll be fine! Really! Just- You have to turn your phone off now? O-of course! Ok, b-"
Obviously he had been cut short. Ford dropped the phone on the bed and groaned. He pressed a hand against his forehead and took a few deep breaths. The nurse remembered that he was trying to keep Ford from dying. That was his job. From the looks of things, he seemed ready to have a cardiac arrest. Or perhaps lay an egg. Humans did that right?
"Are you dying?"
"Africa! They're already on a plane to South Africa!"
"Shouldn't you have just told them that Stanley had them? I mean, if there was ever a good time to tell the truth, it probably would've been then."
"I tried to but he's just so pushy! How do you think I ended up saying yes to taking care of two kids in the first place?"
"And here I thought it was from the kindness of your heart."
Ford seemed much too worried to get angry at him. He dialed a number this time, and began to tap his fingers on his leg. He was tense and silent, waiting for someone to pick up the phone. After a few seconds of silence, he pulled the phone away and tried dialing the number again. He quickly grew frustrated when no one answered.
"STANLEY!" He barked in to the phone. "DON'T LET THOSE KIDS GET ON THAT BUS! IF THEY-"
Ford stopped yelling, it seemed that someone had answered him.
"What's wrong with your voice? Ah yes, well you deserved it. Now, where was I? What do you mean you're in the middle of something important?! Well you can't send them home because their parents are on vacation!"
There was a short response from Stan.
"Does this sound like a joke to you? Yes I'm serious you knucklehead!"
He hung up the phone, groaning for a second time.
"Why oh why did they have to leave now?"
"Cheer up pal! At least it won't just be me and you in the hospital anymore!"
"The children's ward is on the second floor." He glumly replied.
"No, not like that, like visitors! They'll be fine, nothin'll happen to them!"
"I hope so."
The nurse turned away so that he could hide the large grin spreading across his face. He made a very persuasive travel agent if he did say so himself. Especially when last-minute bookings could be just so expensive... Not that he was about to let Ford in on that little detail. The kids would live through the summer, so long as he was around. Now the end of the summer was where Ford would really have to start worrying...