Even though Grunkle Ford (aka Mr. Grudgemental himself) had forgiven her, Mabel wasn't sure the rest of her family would be as willing to do so. But she knew it would be worse to not tell them, so the next morning at breakfast she swallowed down her fear and got it over with.
Soos and his grandma were there too, the latter having basically moved in to help out as everyone was regaining their strength, but that was okay because as far as she was concerned they were family too.
Nobody spoke while she explained what happened, staring down at her plate; eventually she finished off with, "...I understand if you're disappointed in me. I know I should've known better." And she tightened her fingers around her fork, awaiting their verdict.
After a second or two, Grunkle Stan was the first to speak, in a worryingly solemn tone.
"Wish you woulda told us sooner, pumpkin."
Mabel felt her eyes starting to sting, and a new chorus of sobs starting to rise in her chest-
"If ya had, I woulda given the yellow [CENSORED] a couple more punches to the eye before we finished him off."
Mabel jerked her head up in shock-and not just because he'd used that kind of language openly in front of her and Dipper.
Grunkle Stan was smiling at her. It was a sad smile, but there was no anger or disappointment. And when she looked at the others, nobody else seemed to be judging or blaming her either. Just sadness and sympathy.
Dipper scooted his chair over until he was right at her side, wrapping his arm around her shoulders; immediately she glomped onto him in relief, and had her second meltdown in under 24 hours.
Later that afternoon the kids were out in the front yard, helping clean up the mess around the Shack, since they at least had enough strength now to do that. Each of them was equipped with gloves, a bucket and a sharp stick, and they had been given strict warning by both their grunkles not to go too far away in case any of the creatures from the Nightmare Realm had somehow managed not to get sucked back into the rift.
And as they worked, getting rid of pieces of ripped-up cardboard and oversized tree branches, Dipper unexpectedly jabbed his stick through a familiar, brightly crayoned piece of paper decorated with the reminder that the end of this week was his and Mabel's birthday.
For a minute he stared at the drawing of him and his sister exploding out of a cake, rubbing the corner with his thumb as numerous thoughts chased each other through his head.
Then, with a resolute sigh, he decided it would probably be best to get this over with before something else happened.
He set aside his tools, tenderly folded the flyer before stuffing it into his vest pocket, and marched back into the house to find Ford.
His grunkle turned out to be (where else?) down in the basement, next to the shattered remains of the portal. He was, in fact, sitting on part of it, staring with a somewhat melancholy expression at a piece of old, slightly torn-up paper in his hand. At some point he had managed to reclaim his trenchcoat, and at the sound of someone coming down the stairs he quickly shoved the paper into the inside pocket and straightened up. His eyebrows went up when he saw who it was.
"Are you finished already? Or did you maybe need to rest, or-"
"Grunkle Ford (the first time he'd ever addressed him with that term, instead of 'Great Uncle'), I don't think I'm ready to live in Gravity Falls full-time."
Whatever Grunkle Ford had been expecting him to say, it evidently wasn't that. He froze, blinking owlishly, and staring at Dipper in bewilderment.
Dipper squared his shoulders (as much as the skinny little things were capable of being squared), and took a deep breath.
"I've been thinking about it. A lot. And I love it here. This summer has been the most magical experience of my life-even with all the times we nearly got killed, or at least dismembered." He laughed weakly, before becoming serious again. "...But I don't love it enough to want to spend all my time here...if it would mean not getting to grow up with Mabel."
Dipper looked down self-consciously, digging his shoe into the floor and trying to gather his thoughts in as mature a fashion as possible so Ford would understand. "I mean-I get we're not necessarily gonna stay together forever, and like you said, it'd probably be good for us to grow as individual people. But...I'm not ready for that big a step yet. I don't wanna spend all my time away from my parents and my sister-not even if it means getting to spend it with you instead."
He was mortified to feel himself blushing, and tried to will himself to stop. Based on how his face became even hotter, his efforts were not successful.
Part of him wanted to say that he'd also realized he was a little afraid of turning out the same way Ford had if he stayed with him full-time-i.e. deciding he could only rely on himself and as a result pushing away his family-but he dismissed that as too harsh.
"...So, what I guess I'm trying to say is...couldn't it just be a summer-based apprenticeship instead? Since Mabel and I are both gonna come back here anyway? I know that's not the same as what you wanted, and I'm sorry if you'd have to completely rearrange your schedule, or if it's just not convenient for you, but-"
Dipper ran out of words, and just stood there, hugging his shoulders.
After a few seconds of silence, he heard the tread of heavy footsteps approaching; then Ford knelt down in front of him, putting a large hand on his shoulder.
"...You think your parents will allow you to come back here, after all the times you were nearly killed or dismembered?"
Dipper glanced up at his uncle. "...I won't tell if you won't."
Ford's mouth twitched for a few seconds-before he let out into a peal of deep, warm laughter.
Dipper was very confused, but soon enough he joined in.
After a moment Ford managed to somewhat gain control over himself, rubbing his eyes under his glasses, and looked at his nephew more seriously. "I think that's a splendid idea, Dipper."
He felt his knees go a little weak with relief, but somehow he managed to stay on his feet. "...Maybe we can talk about doing it full time when I've graduated high school or something?" he offered, just in case there was some part of Ford that was hurt about losing his apprentice.
"We'll see." Ford squeezed his shoulder gently, and then pulled himself to his feet and adjusted his coat. "For now, my boy, I actually need to go take care of something important."
"Huh? What?"
But Ford was already striding for the stairs, and he was forced to jog to keep up.
Once they reached the ground floor, Ford pushed open the vending machine door, and then accosted Soos and Melody, who were rearranging inventory (the whole town was closed to tourists while things were brought back under control, but once it was open again they were sure it would be swamped with curious customers).
"Where's Stanley?"
"Uh, last I saw him he was headin' for his room," Soos said.
"Thank you." Without further ado Ford strode out and headed for the upstairs. To his relief, Dipper seemed to understand that this would be a very private conversation, and headed back outside-perhaps to tell his sister the good news. Ford inadvertently felt his mouth curling upwards a little bit, and a small rush of excitement in his stomach.
Dipper's gentle half-refusal of his offer had been the final tie keeping him trapped in indecision-and now it had been severed altogether. Now-maybe, if he was lucky, and if Stanley could possibly be persuaded to give him another chance...things could change for the better.
He barely took the time to knock on Stan's door before opening it-this was no time for proper etiquette, and it barely crossed his mind that he might walk in to find his twin in an awkward position or changing or something.
What he hadn't been expecting, however, was to find Stan with an open suitcase on his bed, and haphazardly throwing items into it.
Okay, I lied. There's gonna be one or two more chapters. What can I say, this story just keeps growing the more I feed it.
...And I'm sure this is the chapter in which several of you are going to get very mad at me for not making these two idiots communicate with each other properly even after Weirdmageddon's over. But come on, I'm just being true to life, people! What do you want from me?
