March break is coming up! So I should have more time to write, as I've been working my butt off so that I have a clear(er) schedule over my time off. At the current pace, I think the story will be over some time in mid-April, but we'll all see how that turns out.

Disclaimer: I don't own Gravity Falls

Stanley was laying on his back, with a pillow over top of his head. The only light in the room came from the bathroom. Soos had turned on the light there just before he had left the place, trying to prompt him to get out of bed. McGucket was quietly mumbling to himself, haphazardly attempting to get dressed before the man-child dragged them out of bed like he had done with Stanford. Stanley was going to take his chances with getting dragged out, especially when his headache was not going away.

He'd taken two extra-strength aspirins, and it had done nothing to alleviate the pain. Dumb stuff was probably watered down with powdered sugar or something. He hardly remembered any of the night before. There had been a guy... With blue hair... Like some sort of old lady with a bad perm... And McGucket had actually threatened him... And told him to go to Alaska. Or maybe he was still a little delusional. Someone knocked at the door. Stanley groaned, and flipped on to his stomach.

"Get the door." He said.

"Why don't you get it?"

"Because you're already standing."

"Not anymore."

He felt someone collapse next to him on the bed. McGucket grabbed the pillow and covered his own face. There was more knocking, and the pounding in his head grew worse. It was probably just maid service, he could ignore this and sleep this whole headache thing off. Stanley took the pillow back from McGucket, who in turn attempted to steal it again. The pillow wound up on the floor, and they were both exposed to the brightness of the hotel room. Stanley hissed, and covered his eyes, the other man did the same. Little spots appeared in his line of sight, and a shrill ringing began in his head. The combined sound of knocking was not making him feel any better, and he could hear a muffled voice coming from the other side of the door.

"Grunkle Stan!"

"Go away."

"Shhh. Not so loud." McGucket hissed, rubbing his temples.

"GRUNKLE STAN!"

Oh boy, she was getting even louder the more he ignored her. Unable to take it any more, Stanley got out of bed. He nearly fell over, and would have if not for the bed's convenient position. A wave of nausea washed over him. His stomach twisted into cold, slimy knots. It was already empty, there was nothing left to throw up. That didn't stop him from gagging.

His mouth was painfully dry, as if he had drunk the entire ocean instead of every available beverage in the bar. He needed water, something, anything to get rid of the awful parched feeling. There was a glass of water on the nightstand. Stanley didn't really care whose it was, he drank all of it. He felt a little less terrible after that, and was finally able to answer the door. His great-niece was there, twisting her hands around her hair and glancing down the hall nervously.

"Yeesh, where's the fire kid?" Stan asked.

"I met this kid, Gideon last night at the show Soos made us go to. And he was pretty cool at first, but when Dipper and Soos and Grunkle Ford went to the pool he found me again and everything turned creepy really quickly!"

"Why aren't you at the pool?" Stan asked.

"Because I didn't want to go swimming."

"Look kid, you've brought this upon yourself." Stan replied, slowly closing the door. "I don't know what you want me to do about this."

"No! Wait!"

"She does sound a little distressed." McGucket added.

"Quiet you. I was the one who answered the door, so I'm dealing with this."

At this point, it looked like he was not going to return to bed any time soon. The kid was going through some sort of preteen crisis and McGucket had stolen all the covers. Stanley rubbed his eyes, only now noticing that he was missing his glasses. He had figured the fuzzy vision went hand in hand with the hangover, but he hadn't actually considered the idea that he might be missing his glasses.

Stanley found them resting on the nightstand, right next to where he had found the glass of water. Only, when he put them on, things were still slightly warped. Oh Ford... The knucklehead had taken his glasses by accident. These would have to be the ones he dealt with for now. Some sight was better than no sight, and he could still see how nervous his great-niece was.

"He's really creepy when no one else is around! His dad was there the last time we talked, but this time he was just there, outside of my room!"

That actually sounded pretty bad. Stanley suddenly recalled what had happened the last time his great-niece was left alone with a suspicious, creepy boy, she wound up with head trauma. Stanley thought back to what the doctor had said, the dangers that could come with her getting another bad concussion... Sure the kid probably wasn't the same one before, but he knew that there was no way this little weirdo would be spending too much time around the kid. Especially if he was making her uncomfortable.

"How old is this kid?"

"I don't know? Like eight, nine? He's sort of like Soos, it's really hard to tell!"

"Where is he now? I thought you said he was in front of your room or something like two seconds ago."

"He is! But I lied and told him I had to ask for permission before I could go play mini-putt! Which he somehow found out I really liked! What do I say?"

Stanley turned back to McGucket.

"Gimme' a reason why she can't play with the kid."

"Not enough money." McGucket suggested.

"You literally run a multi-billion dollar company, and I'm a professional criminal!"

"Good point."

Of course, it had to be now that the guy was unable to come up with some sort of nagging reason to prevent her from leaving. Fiddleford had pestered them and warned them about potential danger all the way from the hospital in Jersey to the outskirts of Idaho. Yet it was only at this point, when he needed a good excuse for the girl that neither of them could come up with a reasonable lie! He was a liar, he lied for a living. He was lying right now! Why was it so hard for him to think of a good story to keep that creep away from her now? What should he say? Arranged marriage? She was terminally ill?

"Have you considered telling him how you feel?" Fiddleford asked.

"That was my first choice! But when I said I didn't want to he got more creepy and wouldn't take no for an answer!"

"Well honey, the important thing is that you told the truth." He yawned.

Mabel was starting to look more panicked. Her face turned pale, and she was squeezing her hair between her fingers. Mabel's voice rose to a squeak as she said;

"He's coming down the hall now!"

"Where's the nearest body of water I can throw him in?" Stan asked.

"The river." Fiddleford helpfully chimed in. "Or I suppose we could do the outdoor pool if we wanted him to get hit by lightnin'."

"Well you're helping me carry him there." Stanley replied.

He grabbed the bedcovers and tugged on them so hard that McGucket was dragged too. He rolled out of bed and landed in a tangled heap of blankets and limbs on the floor. Stanley nudged the mess with his foot. McGucket sat up and dusted himself off, unamused with being literally dragged out of bed when he was suffering from a hangover. But before he could start to argue with Stanley, the little gremlin who seemed to be causing Mabel so much trouble showed up. He was ridiculously short, and pale to boot. What was he like, made of marshmallows or something? And what was going on with that hair of his? It was the most ridiculously styled thing he had ever seen, and it was glittering!

Stanley dragged McGucket over to the door. He needed someone to help him figure out a realistic lie that a responsible person would tell, and now would be a good time for him to think of one. Fiddleford haphazardly leaned against his shoulder, squinting in the even brighter light of the hallway. Stan used an arm to keep him propped up, not wanting the guy to fall over and break a hip. Actually, that would be a good excuse for Mabel to not go mini-putting. But he was certain that everyone in the place was sick of doctors and hospitals at this point in time. Maiming McGucket could wait a little longer.

"What do you want?" Stan asked, glaring at the kid.

"Well I uh..." The child appeared briefly confused for a moment. "Stanford?"

"Stanley." He corrected.

"They're twins." Mabel added. "It's a family thing."

"But you're wearing the exact same glasses!"

"We swapped by accident."

"You did not!" Gideon snapped, stomping his foot. "I just saw you at breakfast!"

"Ugh, apparently Ford and I aren't the only ones who need glasses."

"If you're not Stanford then who are you?!"

"Stanley."

"His twin brother." Fiddleford said.

"But Stanford told me that he didn't have any direct family members!"

"Well you see, Stanford can't stand Stanley, and so because neither twin can stand being close by each other, Stanford often neglects to mention that he has a brother named Stanley. Which often results in identity problems. Dipper and Mabel's parents thought that Stanley was Stanford when in actuality, he was Stanley who was pretending to be Stanford because when he is Stanley there is often law enforcement after him, where as Stanley-"

Gideon started to go slightly cross-eyed as he tried to follow McGucket's tale of two Stans. He nodded along with what the man was saying, but it was clear that the kid had been lost since the first sentence. Stanley wasn't sure how it was possible, but Fiddleford managed to keep up his story about there being two Stan Pines that couldn't stand each other. There wasn't exactly much content to work with, but he was doing it. Mabel looked equally confused, but nevertheless relieved that they were trying to stall Gideon.

"-and so Stanley who was pretending to be Stanford who was pretending to be Stanley who was actually Stanford disguised as Stanley because his twin brother who he couldn't stand, Stanley was dressed like Stanford who was acting like Stanley so people would not be confused about two Stans, that is to say, Stanford and Stanley, who cannot stand each other by the way, were standing next to the ampersand band while holding tin cans and doing jazz hands."

"Understand?" Stanley asked.

"Guuuh... I uh... Wow... That was real... Who-? Who are you again? Where am I? What am I doing here?"

The two men grinned.

"You were just leaving."

The indoor pool had been rather nice. It followed the rainforest theme of the mini-putt area. The walls and ceiling were blue, but most of them had been painted over. To one side, there was a fake straw hut, and a beach. Painted people were sailing in the fake water. To the far wall, more rainforest landscape stretched. Tri-coloured parakeets sat in the leafy green trees, and the glowing eyes of wild animals were visible underneath the foliage. There was a waterslide too, and it took a trip up a long, freezing set of perpetually dripping stairs to reach the top. Getting up the stairs was slightly nerve-wracking. It felt as if one could slip at any moment, and it was dangerous to look up when there was constantly water falling from the top.

Along these walls, the sky started to appear, as if one had climbed above the canopy of rainforest. There were clouds painted here, and more birds soaring through the sky. From the top of the waterslide, it was possible to see everything in the area. The side of the building that was devoted to windows, the top of another fake waterfall (which was a part of the pool), the hot tub, and one bored-looking great-uncle. With two open wounds, it wasn't safe for him to be swimming in a pool. They could get infected, and would probably sting a lot in the water of the pool.

Dipper turned back to Soos, who was stuck at the top of the slide. The lifeguard (Who was apparently also a bartender, desk worker, gift shop cashier, and waiter.) nudged Soos with his foot.

"We've gotta' push him man. He's stuck."

"Soos, you've got too many floaties on."

"Don't you dare try to take these pool ducks from me Dipper! They're important!"

"You can't go down the slide with all of those on." The lifeguard said. "Well you can, it's just going to happen very slowly, and I'm on break in five."

"Soos!"

"Not happening dude."

"Just help me push him."

Dipper did as he was told, but Soos did not budge from his spot. The floaties were taking up too much space. He had two water wings per limb, and had somehow fit one around his neck. Then there was the inner tube, and flippers he had over his middle, and the flippers on his feet. Dipper didn't know how Soos expected to swim with so much stuff on. He could barely move his arms. Heck, Soos could barely blink with those goggles over his eyes. Soos was so stuck in space, Dipper wasn't prepared for when he actually moved slightly forward.

Before he knew what was going on, he had tumbled over the man-child, and taken a very unpleasant face-first descent to the pool. Water got in his eyes and up his nose, and he accidentally inhaled after reaching the bottom. Dipper heaved himself out of the pool, dizzy, and hacking up water. When he looked back to the top of the slide, Soos was still stuck with a very unhappy lifeguard. Ford, who had watched Dipper's unexpected fall went over to him.

"Dipper! Are you alright?"

"I-I-" Dipper coughed again. "I'm good!"

Even as he said so, he didn't feel it. His entire front was scraped up, and his chin felt sore too. His chest ached after he had inhaled so much water, even though he had gotten rid of most of it. He felt short of breath, and had to crouch by the edge of the pool.

"What happened?"

"Soos got stuck."

"It figures he would be the one to endanger you."

"Er, it wasn't really Soos' fault. He just has too many floaties on."

"I'm not taking them off dude!" Soos yelled.

"I think I've had enough swimming for one day."

His shirt, hat and towel were resting at one of the tables. He put those on, and figured that he would shower and get dressed back in the room. He might need to patch up a few of the scrapes that he got too, and he wasn't interested in doing that in the public showers, even if there was never anyone in the hotel. Ford seemed happy that he didn't have to supervise anymore too. Whatever had been bothering him in the morning seemed to have left him, for the most part.

"How about we go for a walk?"

"A... Walk?"

Dipper couldn't keep the skepticism out of his voice. Normally Grunkle Ford wasn't that old in spirit. But, a walk? For fun? He wasn't a dog!

"Well yes! It's stopped raining, and I'm getting sick of being cooped up in this hotel. Aren't you?"

By the side with the windows, there was a door leading outside. The pool faced the back of the hotel, it was on a lower level of the already confusing building. There was a paved path twisting down the hill, leading to the outdoor golf course and the surrounding forested area. The sky was cloudy, and it looked like it was going to rain again, even if it had temporarily ceased.

It was always grey in this area, it had been like this as they were driving up to the hotel, and every day they remained. They had pushed back their schedule twice now, due to the bad weather. Wasn't it important for them to be leaving the hotel soon, rain or shine? There were supposedly enemies of Stan, chasing after them! If they traced their path to the hotel, there would be a shoot-out and they'd have to escape or go on another crazy road-trip before they could reach the west coast!

"I kind of thought I was the only one. Mabel and Soos are just really happy with the place in general, while you guys keep saying we should stay longer..."

"Have we? I don't recall saying that."

"But you booked us for another night, and yelled at the guy working the front desk."

"Hm, I have no recollection of that."

Now he was really starting to sound old. How could his great-uncle just forget that they were booked for another night in the place? He had gone up and done it himself, hotel brochure in hand, demanding that they extend their stay...

"What about Soos?"

"The lifeguard will figure something out."

"But-"

"Come on Dipper. Do you want to get out of this hotel or not?"

"I guess, yeah, I do."

"Exactly. Now let's go."

Compared to the humid interior of the pool area, it was cold outside. Flecks of water still rained from the sky, due to the wind dislodging droplets from the trees. Dipper shivered slightly, and tucked his hands under his armpits. Maybe he should have gotten out of his wet swimming shorts. Or maybe it was a good thing that he didn't, seeing as they were going to get wet outside in the rain anyways.

Being on a slight incline, Ford had no trouble going downhill. There was an untidy garden on either side of the path. Wooden beams kept the area contained, but there were long strands of grass peeking through the dirt. Ferns, beaten down by the rain, covered most of the area. Tiny brown and white mushrooms grew underneath the plans, almost as if they were taking refuge from the constant downpour.

Muddy trails of water flowed from the garden and down the path, all heading in the direction of the river. They walked down the trail, passing by one of the putting greens on their way. It was amazing that the grass was so well-kept. It was cut short to the ground, and there was no shortage of it growing. Closer to the river, there was a flock of white geese. They were pecking at the grass, and honking at each other. As they drew closer, some of the geese started to hiss at them. Stanford rolled his eyes, and made a shooing motion at the birds. They scattered.

"See? Isn't this better than nearly drowning in the hotel pool?" Stanford asked.

"It's a little cold."

"But isn't it better than being locked away in the hotel?"

Dipper looked back at the hotel. The building was barely visible through the cover of trees and the angle the hill created. What was most visible were the windows, which all glowed a bright gold in the miserable, grey afternoon. Compared to the weather outside, it seemed more like a refuge than before. He really wouldn't mind going back to get something to eat, or maybe he and Mabel could explore some of the place together. There were many interesting rooms in the place, it was practically overwhelming. They hadn't checked out the gym either, or the tennis courts, or the tiny child-friendly bar that looked over the indoor pool...

Ugh, he had really been listening to Soos and his talk with the brochure too much. None of those things sounded really exciting. What was he going to do at a tennis court? He hadn't exactly brought along a racket. Although, perhaps they were provided, much like the towels were for the spa and hot rocks therapy- Alright, he had seriously spent too much time around Soos. He was actually glad to be gone from the hotel. It was refreshing to be in the cold air, and away from the old hotel smell of the place. He felt like he could think a little more clearly.

"The grounds are nice."

The riverbanks were overflowing, the rising water had reached the grass, and the water that had been falling downhill was collecting in puddles. Dipper had to dodge the puddles to avoid getting his sneakers muddy and wet. Ford didn't seem to mind though, so they continued their walk, down to one of the bridges. Here, his great-uncle needed a little help to get over the incline, but once they reached the middle, he was fine. Dipper leaned against the railing, and looked over the side.

"Do you think Soos' still stuck?"

Ford snorted at the question.

"I wouldn't be surprised."

Dipper frowned slightly.

"I mean, shouldn't we go back and help him then?"

"He'll be fine. He always seems to escape trouble in the end."

"Maybe we should go check?"

"All he needs to do it take off those ridiculous inner tubes Dipper, he'll be fine."

The river water was a swirling brown-yellow. A layer of dirt and debris had turned the river opaque. Tree branches occasionally bobbed to the surface of the water, before being pulled back down. He should see his own, distorted reflection twisting below. One of the geese from before disturbed it further, but it could not swim against the current, and had to fly to escape the strength of the water.

"Grunkle Ford?"

"Yes?"

"How come you and Soos don't get along? Like, Soos told me that he lived in Gravity Falls, and it's a small town, so you obviously know each other..."

"Oh did he now?"

"He kind of called you a jerk?" Dipper winced. "And said you only care about yourself?"

"Well in that case you can tell him that he is an irresponsible man-child who is incapable of separating his personal life from the work environment-"

Stanford's phone rang, interrupting his rant. He dismissed the call however, and went back to listing mean things until his face was red.

"What if that call was important?" He cut in.

"It probably wasn't."

"But what if it was?"

The phone was tossed to him.

"Goodness Dipper! If it bothers you so much, call whoever it was back!"

Hearing his great-uncle rant about Soos, and Soos doing visa-versa made him uncomfortable. He didn't want to pic a side on this fight, but he did want to know why they seemed to get along so badly. As Mabel-ish as it sounded, there had to be some way to make them get along again. He liked Grunkle Ford, and he liked Soos, and he didn't really want to listen to one complain about the other whenever he was with them.

Dipper redialed the number that had just called, and waited for someone to pick up. It was better than listening to Ford get worked up. The most inhuman, high-pitched voice he had ever heard answered. Dipper wondered if the guy was in a place where his voice was echoing, or if he had some sort of sound effect to go along with it as he talked.

"Ford if you don't start answering my texts I swear to-"

"Who is this?"

"Who are you?!"

"I don't know! Er, I mean, who are you?"

"Is Ford there?"

"Yeah, he is."

"Is he busy?"

Dipper looked at Ford, who was snarling something however his breath.

"Tell him go get his as-"

"Who are you talking to?" Stanford asked.

Dipper covered the receiver.

"I have no idea."

"I can hear what you're saying you know!"

"Don't question it Dipper. Just give me the line."

"Finally! Ford you've gotta' get out of that ho-"

Stanford ended the call before the voice could finish. He tossed it back to Dipper.

"See? Look at all those texts the weirdo has been sending me!"

Dipper scrolled through some of them. It made up most of his messaging, all of them unread. The rest was from some Rick Sanchez guy, and it was all written in a language he didn't understand. Just then, another text, from the caller, arrived.

That hotel is brainwashing you!

"Uh, Grunkle Ford, I think you might want to see-"

"Don't even bother Dipper. He's always trying to get my attention."

Don't touch the brochures, they're reinforcing the spell.

"Really Grunkle Ford, this actually seems kind of serious."

"All of them do Dipper. He's a scam artist."

It won't let you leave.

"Grunkle Ford-"

"If you're just going to keep talking then you can give me back my phone."

Dipper looked back at the warnings, and then at his great-uncle's outstretched hand. With a shrug, he returned the phone. The texts were just lies, scams. The guy was just trying to trick his great-uncle. Maybe he was some kind of telemarketer that had been taking things too far. Either way, it probably didn't matter. They'd leave the hotel once the weather cleared...