Biff sat in his villainous lair, scrolling through the ancient tome he'd acquired after almost half a year of searching for magical artifacts. It wasn't much of a lair - a hole under a dead tree that was relatively evil-looking in the right light and if you squinted at the right angle- but it was his and one day it'd be the centre of his great empire after he overthrew humanity. Once he did that he could afford to upgrade it a bit. A picture on the wall might be nice.

Anyway, he had the book now. And it was a nice book! An ancient, musty tome that held all manners of foreboding spells written in blood. Or cranberry juice. Either way, it was his! All his! Finally, he'd be allowed into the Pines Enemy Clubhouse. Sure, the other villains kept telling him there was no such thing - but he knew! If there wasn't one, why would they deny it so adamantly? Very suspicious!

He drubbed his aching jaw and decided he'd better not let them know about his latest encounter when they did let him in. He was pretty sure those kids ate magic berries. How else could someone so skinny pack such a wallop?

Biff sighed and turned another page. As if it wasn't hard enough for him to get respect. Now they'd remind him that a human child had beaten him. Why was it so hard? He had magic, he was cruel and overall magnificent. But no one took you seriously when you were knee high. If only there was some way to bolster himself, become tougher, deflect their blows and-

He stopped when he turned another page and found the spell that could answer his problem. He grinned and let out a giggle of joy. Then he cleared his throat, looked around in embarrassment and gave a maniacal laugh instead. Yes, this would solve everything. He only needed to pick the right creature so he turned to his great library (five books on an uneven shelf) and picked one, flicking through the pages to search for the right animal. Something tough. Something mean. With claws and a fearsome image.

He stopped when he found a particular creature. He marvelled at the armoured dome protecting it from harm. He admired the beady eyes and talon-like claws. Finally, his eyes were drawn to the description of its burrowing habits and taste for insects, finding a kindred spirit. Yes , he thought as he plucked a beetle from his beard and popped it in his mouth. Now they'll take me seriously.

More came to the funeral than expected.

The Townsfolk stood a little apart from the ceremony to pay their respects but still give the family space. Magical creatures who stood even further away, at the edges of the forest where they may have gone unnoticed by untrained eyes if they hadn't come in such huge numbers. Gnomes, fairies, Manotaurs, elves, tree spirits, nymphs, even a pair of unicorns were among those who'd come. The Hand Witch stood with them, shaking her head sadly.

While most of those outside the family, human or otherwise, couldn't say they had been exactly fond of Stanley Pines and his rough nature and conning ways, they all knew how important he had been to the family that had done so much for them, and all of them remember what the man had been willing to sacrifice to save them.

At first, the family weren't sure about letting so many people come to what should have been a small and private gathering. But Ford and Soos were for it, deciding that others should have the chance to say goodbye as well. Besides, they were both sure that Stan would have had a good laugh at so many people and creatures facing the wet drizzle to pay their respects after a lifetime of scams and insults.

The celebrant had spoken to the family at length and gave a good speech about Stan. His humour, his roguishness, his occasional charm, and brazen nature. Most of all his dedication to family and his excuses for any of the affection or kindness he had shown, no matter how frequently. Then, one by one, those closest to Stan gave their tribute.

Ford recounted adventures from their childhood and when they had travelled the world on the Stan O' War 2. Wendy told jokes and stories about scams and pranks she and the old man had pulled when she was younger. Neither Soos nor Mabel were able to stand up in front of the others and give the farewell they wanted to give, but Dipper and Melody did that for them, talking about everything the selfish old grouch had done for them. Not the adventures where he'd saved them from zombies or ancient creatures or alien threats - only the stuff that really mattered. The times they'd shared as a family, with laughter and fun and arguments.

Finally, to complete their farewell, Laura and Melanie, the two eldest Ramirez daughters back from college to grieve, sang the English version of a song Stan had heard in a Cuban prison. Complete with all the words that really shouldn't be said at a funeral, ones that Stan hadn't bothered to translate until after he'd taught it to them far too young.

After their initial shock, the others couldn't help but grin and chuckle, save Olivia and Sylvia who had to ask their parents what the song was about and became even more confused when they tried to shush them, despite laughing harder as they did so.

Melody in particular couldn't help grinning. She remembered well the day she'd come home and found Stan and her eldest two happily singing words no little girls should know, and his alarmed bafflement as she chased him round the Shack with a broom in retribution. Then she saw the look on her husband's face and her smile fell faster than the rain. She looked around and saw that Mabel was the only other person not smiling at the song; the tears like tiny rivers on her cheeks as her husband put his hand on her back.

Melody closed her eyes until the song ended, then got up with the others to gather round for the final farewell. She stepped away from Soos for a moment and gave her eldest two a huge hug. "Grandpa would've been proud," she whispered to them as they wiped their eyes. Then she pulled them closer to their father so he had his wife and all of his daughters holding him at once as the coffin was lowered, not even his blubbering and their combined weeping enough to drown out Mabel's heavy sobs.

"We don't have to go in," Tommy said gently as they came to a stop outside the Mystery Shack, keeping the car running in case she changed her mind. "It's been a hard day. For everyone. And they're your family. They'd understand."

Mabel looked out the window at the building she'd considered as her second home for longer than any she'd ever had a first home. Even though Ford had bought the land and designed most of the house, and Soos had owned it since that first summer, it had belonged to Stan longer than either and he had given it its new purpose and spirit. "No," she said quietly, stepping out. "I can't let them go through it alone."

Another car arrived right behind them, Dipper and his family stepping out. He exchanged a word with his wife, who led the girls inside while he walked towards his sister.

"I'll meet you inside," Tommy told his wife, giving her a quick squeeze, exchanging a quick nod with Dipper as the men passed.

"Hey," Dipper said, his hands deep in his suit pockets.

"Hey," Mabel quietly replied.

They stood in silence looking up at the large building where they had spent the most treasured moments of their childhood. "Doesn't seem the same anymore."

"I know. It just seems so...empty."

"Yeah."

"Hey, remember that time when he saved us from those zombies? The first time, I mean? Fought them off with a baseball bat. I don't know how many times I've told the girls that story. It's one of their favourites. That seems so long ago now."

"Twenty years. Hard to believe everything that happened in one summer. I remember when he fought that dinosaur to save Waddles. My little soul mate."

"What about Tommy?"

"When you're up against Waddles, second place is nothing to sneeze at."

He smiled but only for a second. It was good to hear her joke but she said it without any of her usual whimsy. "He was a good pig," he agreed, rubbing the back of his neck as he thought of the best way to say what he had to. "Listen, Mabel, I know you feel bad but what happened to Stan-"

"Don't."

His hand fell to his side as he looked away from the building and to her.

Her eyes shut and her lips were tight as she trembled slightly. "Please. I can't - I don't want to hear it. I just - I need a moment. Go inside. I'll catch up in a minute, okay?"

Dipper watched her for a second before letting out a long, weary sigh. "Okay, Mabel. Come in whenever you're ready," he told her, putting a hand on her arm before heading in and making his way through the building.

He smiled slightly when he passed his daughters talking excitedly to Laura and Melanie, happy to see their oldest cousins after so long and asking how much of college they still had to go through. He stepped over to where Tommy, Pacifica, and Wendy were standing, considering the tables of snacks Melody had left out for most of the family.

"How's she holding up?" Wendy asked, a small paper plate in her hand.

Dipper shook his head and let out a weary breath.

"Still blames herself," Tommy told them bitterly. "Can't get over what she said to him."

"It was a car," Pacifica said. "Stan would hate to see her so upset over something like that."

"Understandable, though," said Wendy. "You always regret the stupid things when you loose someone. Can take a while to remember the good times when you're this miserable."

"And she's not the only one taking it hard," Dipper whispered as Soos approached, a bottle in his hands.

"Hey," Soos greeted them half-heartedly, considering the spread with none of his usual interest, as if he were simply going through the motions.

"Hey, man," Tommy replied as the others shared a glance. "How are you holding up? Doing alright?"

Soos looked at him blankly for a full second. "Not really. Buried my Dad buried my Dad, dude."

"O-oh," Tommy stammered as the others winced. "S-sorry, that - stupid question. Sorry."

Soos shrugged. "S'okay dude. These things happen."

"Would you like some food?" Pacifica quickly asked, holding up a platter to try and ease the tension.

Soos barely looked at the food before turning his nope at it, very unlike him. "Nah, I'm good, he replied, holding up an almost-empty bottle. "This'll do for now. Actually, running a bit low. 'Scuse me while I get s'more."

"Well that was the dumbest thing I've ever said," Tommy muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as Soos walked towards another table holding several bottles.

"Hey, we've all put our foot in it," Dipper assured him. "Some more than others. Practically an initiation into the family."

"I've never seen him drink before," Pacifica said quietly, watching him worriedly.

"We have," Wendy grunted as Dipper nodded gravely. "When his grandmother died. But at least then he still ate stuff."

"Yeah, but we all saw that coming," Dipper reminded her. "This took us all off-guard. That can make it worse."

"Sometimes," Wendy agreed quietly, thinking of her mother and her passing.

Soos passed his oldest daughters as they spoke to Ford, comparing the massive differences between college life and technology now compared to when he had been a student. Soos had missed them terribly, despite both phoning home at least once a week and several texts between. Only a few days ago he would have been over the moon at having all his children back, alongside the rest of those he considered family. But now he couldn't move past the void left by the only one missing, a tear in his heart not even his wife and children could fill.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Bethany in her sister's Louise's arms, the older slightly better at holding back the tears. He swallowed and prepared to go over and at least try to offer some comfort but felt a sudden wave of relief when Angelina did it first. He didn't think he could offer much comfort to anyone right now. It made him feel a little like a failure as a father and a husband and a human being, but he couldn't shake the thought. He looked over at the people he loved and quietly left to stand outside, taking another bottle with him.

"I keep thinking about Weirdmageddon," Pacifica said, sitting on the couch and nursing a drink. "End of the world and I was so lost and afraid. Mom and Dad had been taken by those eye-bats, people were screaming in the distance, nothing to eat or drink, fires raging. My clothes ended up so torn running through the bushes and dodging claws that I had to use a potato sack so I wasn't in my underwear."

"Worth the apocalypse just to see you looking dirtier than me for once," Wendy joked.

"Ha! Yeah, that must've been hilarious! Geez, I still have no idea how I survived that long. But I do know I would've ended up as stone too if Stan hadn't found me one of those times he tried searching for Mabel and Dipper. Chased off some walking...xylophones with teeth? Whatever they were, a baseball bat took care of them easily enough. I was so afraid he'd leave me there after there after everything I'd said about him and his family. Instead, he just took my hand, said, 'C'mon sweetie, let's get you somewhere safe. This ain't no place for no kid.' Don't think I thanked him enough for that."

"...Your Stan impression really sucks."

"I know, right? Actually kind of ruins what should be a touching story. Don't even know why I did it!"

"Think I might know," Wendy said, pouring a little more whiskey in her cup.

"This is strong stuff," Pacifica agreed. "Normally I'm more of a champagne girl but this really stands out."

"Yeah, Stan's favourite. Seriously hard to get. Managed to grab some for his and Ford's birthday. When I suggested he share it, he just laughed and said it'd be over his dead body. Think he'd see the funny side of passing some around at his wake," she smirked as Pacifica chuckled.

The redhead's smile fell suddenly. "I can't stop thinking about the first time I met him. Like, really met him, not just around town or at one of Dad's poker nights. Had a big fight with Dad about...something. My grades or pranks or being out too late with my friends? Something, I dunno. Anyway, I was so mad I just stormed off and went for a walk. Ended up at the Shack. Took a tour but got bored and started shoplifting. Told myself it was 'cause I need money and no place would hire me but it was probably just something to do. Thought I'd gotten away with it until I felt Stan's hand on my shoulder. I was so freaked out I was going to get arrested or worse, he'd tell my Dad. Instead, he was impressed! Thought I had talent and wanted to train me, needed a partner in crime. We tried to steal this diamond-"

"From the History Museum," Pacifica said beside her, frowning slightly. "He told me about that. Never mentioned you, though."

"Hah, yeah, there's a reason for that: we got caught. Old coot threw his back out. Took the fall for me. Told me I had talent and drive but should put it to better use, not end up like him. Told him that was easier said than done when no one would hire me." She smiled again as she took a sip, still recalling the measured way he'd looked at her from behind those bars. "Told me to come see him when he got out, see what he could do. And the rest is history. Gonna miss him."

"Me too," Pacifica sighed. "As annoying as he was. You know, he never stopped comparing us? Every Time I saw him, it was always 'Wendy would do this' or 'Wendy's better at that' or his personal favourite, 'redheads are better than blondes!' Used to drive me mad. Now I'd give everything just to have him do it one more time.

"That's funny, 'cause plenty of times he used to make it seem like he liked you more when it was just us. Except for the hair thing," she added with a grin. "Guess he knew even he couldn't lie about that. We are the best."

"Not according to Dipper," Pacifica said with a smug smile,

"No, we are," Wendy replied with a frown. "Told me himself on my birthday."

"He told me blondes were best on my birthday!"

The two women narrowed their eyes. Then, together, they got up and began the search.

Dipper's body gave a sudden jerk. Decades spent in the Falls and avoiding deadly perils had given him an almost sixth-sense for danger. It didn't warn him one-hundred percent of the time but it had saved him enough times to pay attention when it happened. He looked around, terrified of what threat could befall his friends and family on an already awful day - when he realised the two fiercest women he'd ever known were standing behind him.

"Hello," his wife said with a voice as cold and deadly as winter. "We were just talking about hair colours. And your name came up."

"Ohhh, Daddy's in trouble!" Sylvia sang as Olivia giggled excitedly.

"I've waited so long for this!" Tommy gasped. He reached under a table and pulled out a small tub of popcorn. "The Ex and the Wife teaming up! It's every man's nightmare!"

"You brought popcorn to a wake?" Dipper snapped, rounding on him and glad he could turn his fear into anger.

Tommy let out a scoff, indifferent to his brother-in-law's fury as he lowered the box so his nieces could take a handful. "Of course! I brought popcorn to my wedding, why would this be different? Every time this family gets together there's always something worth watching, no matter how serious it is. And this situation clearly proves I was right. Now quit stalling and face your impending doom like a man."

"Yeah!" Dipper's daughters yelled through full mouths, clearly willing to sacrifice their father for entertainment.

Dipper swallowed and turned back to the two greatest loves of his life, one present, one former. Any hope he'd have that they'd be distracted by Tommy or at least less furious was quickly quashed when he saw their faces. If anything, the extra time had only added fuel to their rage. He began to sweat as his mind went wild with what to say.

What should I do, say it's redheads?

Are you an idiot? You know how long Pacifica holds a grudge!

Then I say it's blondes?

WHAT? Wendy can literally kill us! Literally!

What then? Do I say I like them equally?

Who on Earth likes redheads and blondes equally? That's crazy-talk!

Then what do I do? I'm going to be murdered at a funeral!

Stan would've found that hilarious.

Dipper stopped as he thought of his great uncle and an idea came to him, at the memory of his way of getting out of almost as much trouble as he got into. Wendy and Pacifica both shared a look as Dipper suddenly stopped sweating.

"Uhh," Dipper began carefully, wondering if this gamble would actually work or if he was just going to make it worse. "We buried my Grunkle today. I'm too upset to answer this right now?"

The women stared at him with slack jaws.

"Did you just use your great uncle's death to get out of a punishment?" his wife asked in astonishment.

"Umm. Yes?" Dipper replied, finding it hard to believe himself. "Yes, I think I did."

The women continued to stare at him in disbelief for several seconds as he shifted uncomfortably.

"Heh," Wendy said at last, a smile flickering to life. "Stan would've been proud. Okay, I'll let you off tonight. How about you?"

"Yeah, alright," Pacifica sighed with her own bemused smile. "For tonight, anyway."

"Oh, come one!" Tommy protested. "I was looking forward to some action!"

"Boo!" agreed Sylvia.

"Rip off!" Olivia added.

"Think that was one of the smartest ways I've ever avoided danger," Dipper whispered to his brother-in-law as daughters continued to encourage their mother and aunt to shed his blood.

"Tommy gave him a look. "Oh yeah? Well if you're so smart why didn't you just pick your wife?"

Dipper blinked. "I -wow. That - that's an excellent point. I should have done that straight away."

Tommy rolled his eyes and looked around. "Sometimes I wonder how you ever got married before Mabel. Have you seen her?"

"I don't think she's come inside yet," Dipper said quietly. "I'll go and bring her-"

"No," Tommy said. "I don't...I'll talk to her. See if she wants to stay or not."

Dipper nodded, watching him head outside, passing the remaining popcorn to the twins as he went, and glad that after far too many disasters, his sister had finally found someone just as annoying and kind as she was.

Mabel stared into the eternal darkness of the Bottomless Pit, half tempted to vault over the fence Soos had put up around it when he took over the Shack; throw herself in and hope she came out somewhere else. But she knew the most likely event would be that she'd be alone with herself for twenty minutes and then come out the exact same place. Then again, it might be nice just to have twenty minutes of pure darkness to cry and scream into without someone bothering her.

It was just as she finished that thought that she heard footsteps, and she felt a flash of undeserved annoyance at whoever it was was that had come to see her, about to snap at them to leave her alone, to let her suffer in peace, she didn't need everyone-

"Oh," she said, her anger vanishing as she saw who it was. "Hi Soos. "

"Hey," he grunted back, stumbling a little as he approached, having to lean on the fence with one hand, the other raising his bottle. "Want some?"

"No, I'm fine, thank you," she answered, eyeing the beverage warily.

They didn't say anything for a moment, the sound of voices and faint music from the Shack barely heard over Soos' deep gulps.

"Ugh, this stuff is awful," he grunted, glaring at it. "Don't know how people can do this so often."

"They normally take their time and in smaller doses," Mabel explained as he drank again.

"Why are you out here?" he asked when he'd finished, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Why aren't you inside?"

"Why aren't you?" she responded, sharper than intended.

"Too hard," he said softly, too numb to catch her tone or the wince she gave after it. "Everything reminds me of him. Every room. So many memories. The day I started work. Teaching me how to box. Letting me take over when he retired. Thought it'd be better out here but...I can't escape it. Kinda want to throw myself down there just to get away from it all, you know?"

"...Yeah. Yeah, I do."

"Melody was trying to tell me that at least it's over now." He looked down at his hands. "But it isn't. It won't be over for a long time. It's just getting started if anything. I still...I still see this place as his, even after all these years. And we've got the reading of the will to do too. Ford said he made little recordings for each of us. And left us all a gift too." He swallowed and shook his head to clear the tears. "After everything he's given me! My family! I can't imagine what else there is and he's still giving more!"

"I'm going to get the car."

He finally caught the pain in her voice and saw her standing there, somehow looking even more miserable than he felt.

"I'm going to get the car," she said again, her eyes shut tight. "When I asked if I could borrow it for the exhibition, he said I was getting it in his will and I probably wouldn't have long to wait. I laughed at that. And now he's gone. And - and it's my fault." She put a hand up to her face as the thoughts she couldn't escape finally flew from her mouth.

"It's my fault, Soos," she gasped. "The last time we spoke we had a fight and it was over his car. A stupid, stupid car and my damn art and - and if I hadn't - if I hadn't taken it, or messed with it or even called instead of sending a stupid text, he'd - he'd still be here! But he isn't! Because of me! It's all my fault," she whispered, shuddering until she felt a large hand on her shoulder.

"No offense, Mabel," Soos said gently, "But that's kinda dumb."

"It - what?" she managed, the shock of his words enough to momentarily stop her tears.

"Yeah, really dumb," Soos repeated, nodding sagely as she stared up at him in disbelief.

"But - but we had a fight!" she protested, not understanding how he could be so dismissive of her guilt. "He was so angry! And if he wasn't so angry then he wouldn't have driven so fast and-"

Soos let out a disbelieving snort as he rolled his eyes. "Come on, Mabel, you know Stan never drove anywhere slowly. He'd've been speeding whether you had a fight or not. Besides, with his cataracts he really should not have been driving at all, especially not on a road like that in the rain."

"That's not - I messed up his car!" she almost screamed at him. "And he was so mad! And I called him stupid and - and - you know what he was like! He was late because of that! If he hadn't called me then he'd still be here! He'd still be alive!"

"Maybe," Soos conceded. "But you know what else could have changed that? If Melody hadn't suggested we buy that second jeep he borrowed. If Bethany hadn't seen the poster for the Carnival. Heck, Angelina couldn't stop crying and blaming herself that night 'cause she'd offered to drive him instead. Is that what I should do? Blame my little girl for my Dad's death?"

"What? No! No, but that's-"

"No," Soos said firmly, tightening his grip on her shoulder. "'Cause it wasn't her fault. Wasn't hers, or Melody's, or mine. Definitely wasn't yours. No, Stan died...Stan died because he was an old man with bad eyes driving too fast down a bad road on a bad night. That's it. Besides, even if it were your fault - and it isn't - what do you think Stan would want?"

Soos sighed and ran a hand through his hair, a little thinner now and with a few specks of grey. "I can't say what Stan was thinking when he was driving. But I do know that if the last thing I did was have a fight with one of my girls - I'd hope they'd know I loved them more than I've ever been mad at them. Same with Melody or Dipper or you. Because you're my family. And Stan taught me how much that means, whatever arguments you have with them."

She bit her lip, trying to hold back her tears as his words took hold. Then she saw the wetness in his eyes and tried to put her arms around him, barely managing halfway around his huge frame as he wrapped her in his massive arms. "I miss him so much," she whispered as they cried together, the two people who had loved him most and in turn been loved the most.

"Yeah," he sniffed. "Yeah me too. But I've got you. I've got Dipper and Wendy and Ford. Most of all I've got Melody and our girls. I don't know how I would've gotten through this without them." He looked down at his hand and glared at the bottle. "Geez, look at me. They've lost their Grandad and here I am, drinking away. Like I'm the only one hurting."

"We're all hurting, Soos. Nobody's judging you for being upset and needing some alone time."

He looked at her, meeting her eye. "Yeah, you're right. So what makes you think our family won't be as understanding with you?"

She swallowed, unable to answer. "I don't want to be here," she admitted at last, feeling ashamed of her honesty. "It's too painful. But you're all grieving and-"

"And we're doing it in a different way," Soos interrupted. "Melody's keeping herself busy, my girls are crying, Dipper and Ford are sharing stories - heck, Wendy's telling jokes! But we're all hurt deep down. And we accept that. So if you don't want to be here...you shouldn't. Go home," he told her with a gentle voice and the kind, buck-toothed smile that only he could manage.

Mabel shook her head, biting her lip as she stared back at the place that held so many fantastic memories that now brought only pain. "I can't leave them alone."

He smiled and looked back at his home, hearing the faint voices of his wife and children inside. "They're not. And neither are you," he added, pointing to where Tommy stood watching them from a respectable distance. "We'll be here when you're ready. Just like you'd be for us."

She looked back at the Shack one last time, obviously conflicted. But in the end she gave a latte nod and walked over to her husband, who put an arm around her shoulder and led her to their car, raising a grateful hand to the large man in thanks. Soos waved back, somehow feeling a little lighter and hoping she felt the same, or at least would come to.

He walked back to the Shack to tell the others that Mabel had left and to tell them that if any of them felt they had to do the same then that would be fine too. He doubted they would but it would still be nice to give them that option.

His heart almost stopped when he saw his adopted father by the swings, pushing his oldest two just as he had when they were children. Then he let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding and felt a heart-breaking mixture of disappointment and relief when his alcohol-addled brain explained what he was seeing.

"There used to be a swing like this on the Beach near where Stan and I grew up," Ford was telling Laura and Melanie as he pushed them gently. "We used to come down and swing for hours, even when we were in our late teens. We talked about so many things. But so often we simply sat and stared out to sea."

"We know, Grunkle Ford," Laura, the oldest, said. "Stan told us all about it. Told us all the stories about you two."

"Yep," Melanie, the second-oldest, agreed. "Must've heard them a thousand times." She dug her ankles into the sand to stop her swing, giving him a pleading look. "Can you...tell us again?"

Ford smiled. "I'd love to. In fact, I think I have a few more that you might like," he added, thinking of a conversation he'd shared with Stan from a different world not so long ago. He was about to begin when they heard heavy footsteps and saw Soos staring at them, an odd expression on his face. "Soos. Is everything alright?"

The grieving son stared at them blankly for a moment, his heart still aching from the mistaken identity. He looked back at the Shack and once again his sorrow forged an image of the man he'd loved so much, sitting lazily on the porch, raising a can in acknowledgement like he so often had over the years.

Then the mirage vanished, leaving only the memory. One of many.

"Yeah," Soos said with a faint smile as he realised each and every one would be cherished, no matter how painful they were right. "Yeah, I think I will be." He walked over and pulled his daughter into one of his signature bear-hugs, the first they'd had since returning home. "Stan would be so dang proud of you two. I know I am. Now sit here and listen to your Grunkle's stories. I need to tell your sisters the same."

He nodded at Ford as he passed, both men with wet eyes, and went straight for his wife, holding her tightly too. "Thanks for everything," he whispered. "I love you."

"I love you too," she said back, relieved beyond words to see a little life return to him. "Are you okay?"

Soos looked over the heads of the others, easily spotting the rest of his children. "Not yet," he admitted. "But I think we're gonna be."

It was then that a window threw open a wave of dark smoke entered the house, followed by maniacal laughter.

"Uhp, spoke too soon," Soos sighed as the experienced group reacted instantly; Pacifica pulling the youngest Pines twins away and using her body as a shield, Dipper pulling out the pen and notebook he brought with him everywhere in case he needed to look up a spell or write a formula, the Ramirez sisters raising their fists or grabbing whatever was heavy enough to be a makeshift weapon.

"Alright, you're in serious trouble!" Wendy yelled, stepping to the front, a long sharp knife from the table in each hand. "You've picked the absolute worst day to mess with this family! Show yourself, whoever you are!"

The laughter continued for a moment until a voice spoke from the mist; guttural and coming from all around them. "You know who I am, even if you don't recognise my new form" it said, both eerily familiar yet foreign at once as a shadow formed in the smoke, showing the silhouette of a large, hunched form with long arms ending in sharp claws. "You thought you could defeat me but now I have returned! Beware! Your greatest foe is back!"

"Bill?" Wendy whispered, paling a little as a ripple passed through the house at the thought of their greatest enemy coming to life again.

"W-what?" said the silhouette, taken aback. "I'm not that bad! Okay, your next-greatest foe! Beware and-"

"You are not Desmond," Dipper stated, knowing the inter-dimensional entity better than anyone and certain it would never go for such theatrics.

"Don't compare me to - fine! Your third-greatest-"

"Told you we should've launched the Shapeshifter into space after the third time!" Wendy hissed at Dipper, the man scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

"No!" The creature screamed, obviously becoming more and more agitated. "The enemy who's been at your throats longer than any of them! Whose tyranny and ruthlessness was known to all, even as you mocked me for all these decades!"

Pacifica cocked her head to the side. "Dad? Is that you?"

There was an enraged scream and the smoke vanished, revealing the true culprit.

"Nooo!" screamed the small, pink creature with the domed back and long arms ending in padded claws, jumping up and down in frustration. "It's me! Biff! Stop ruining my introduction!"

"Ohmigod!" Louise gasped, clapping her hands over her mouth as her eyes shone. "He's become a Monster-Mon! This is every anime fan's dream! Let's catch him!"

"Dude, what have you done to yourself?" Wendy asked, raising an eyebrow. "And why are you pink?"

"What's wrong with pink?" Olivia Pines asked, defensive of her favourite colour.

"I have used my magic to give myself a new form!" the former-gnome declared proudly. "With this body, I can now defeat you with brawn as well as brains!"

"Never defeated us," Dipper reminded him. "Literally never. Definitely not with brains."

"And you still haven't told us why you're pink," Wendy added.

"Wendy, I don't think that's important right now."

"I disagree."

"Why did you waste that magic to make yourself look so big?" Pacifica asked, no longer too concerned about shielding Olivia and Sylvia now that she knew who they were facing. "You made yourself look seven feet in it, so you were just setting yourself up for disappointment when you revealed you've barely grown."

"Yeah, isn't that a waste of magic? Could have used it on a lightning bolt instead, way more useful."

"And did you seriously make yourself half armadillo? Was that the only option or did you actually pick that?"

"If you did, why? I mean, I think they're cool and all, but they're not exactly ferocious."

"What the devil's going on in -what is that?" Ford cried in alarm, coming through the door with Laura and Melanie.

"It's just Biff, nothing to worry about," Melody said dismissively.

"Why's he pink?" Laura asked, more focused on that than the new form.

"Thank you!" Wendy cried. "Somebody else's asking the right questions!"

"SILENCE!" Biff screamed to stop the clamour of voices, enraged to see they still weren't taking him seriously. "Enough of your mockery! Today I will finally show you how great a threat I am! Give me Stan Pines or face my wrath!"

A silence went through the building, everyone looking at each other and unsure what to say, how to act or who should go first. Most flinched. Some became angry. Wendy and Pacifca both gritted their teeth and focused on the small creature, and began moving towards him, ready to enact swift justice, new form or and, and make him pay for

"Grandad's dead."

The voice, small and quiet, rippled among them and they all turned to Bethany, youngest of the Ramirez's and Stan's favourite. "Grandad's dead," she repeated, her lower lip quivering. "This is his wake. You're too late. Please leave."

Biff stared at the girl, uncomprehendingly. Slowly, he looked about the room and saw what he'd missed at the start. The black clothes. The flowers. The look on their faces and the atmosphere of the house, the way that even their fiercest warriors lacked the usual fire in their eyes.

"Yeah," Wendy said, never taking her eyes off him as she tightened her grip on the knives. "So we're not in the mood for your little insecurities and - dude, are you crying?"

"No!" Biff shouted, wiping at his eyes.

"Oh my God, he totally is," Pacifica breathed, none of them able to believe it."

"I'm not!" Biff protested with a ragged breath, wishing they'd all stop looking at him. "It's just - I put a lot of effort into this, okay? And now you tell me he's - that's so selfish of him!"

"It - what?" Dipper asked, not the only confused face.

"You heard!" Biff snapped, raising a fist. "I spent hours on this! Hours! Do you know how hard it is to prepare these spells? I had a plot, people! And none of you were even nice enough to be scared of my claws! Now you tell me the guy I came here to kill is already dead! You're all mean! Mean and selfish! I'm going home!"

The little gnome-armadillo hybrid leapt up to the windowsill, and glared back at the incredulous humans. "You'll rue the day!" he added over his shoulder before hopping down and scurrying away, howling into the night.

"He is literally the worst villain we've ever faced," Pacifica sighed, closing the window behind him.

"Eh, he makes good practice," Sylvia Pines shrugged, trying to stay positive.

"Always infuriated me that he has to make such a big deal whenever he leaves," Ford grunted, glaring out the window. He looked around, suddenly noticing that there was someone missing. "Wait. Where's Mabel?"

"She went home too," Soos sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "She, uh, she really feels bad about the last words she had with Stan, you know?"

"Yeah, I'll never forget what he said to us," Bethany said, wiping at her eyes as her sisters gathered round her.

"Oh?" her mother asked, growing curious. "Why, what did he say?"

Bethany, Louise and Angelina shared a few glances, the last three to see him alive and wondering if they should share that information with an already mourning crowd.

"Um," Angelina said slowly, feeling the pressure of so many eyes upon them and deciding to take the bullet for her sisters. "He, uh, he said...he said he was too miserable to die."

Another wave of silence hit the room, each of them processing that bitter irony of the last words of the man they all missed so terribly.

Then the silence was broken by a strange sound none of them had heard in days. It started off low, but soon became louder until they were all staring at the source.

Soos, a hand on his side and tears streaming down his face laughed and laughed. He saw the stares he was receiving and that only made him laugh harder. As they were processing his reaction, they became even more confused as another chuckle started and began to grow into a fuller laugh like Soos' until Ford was almost doubled over, having to grab onto the other man's shoulders for support as he wheezed from the effort.

After that, it rippled throughout the room and within minutes almost everyone was joining in, unable to explain why something so depressing was bringing them such joy but unable to deny it either.

"What's so funny?" Olivia demanded, glaring at her parents who were too busy joining in to answer.

"Grown-ups," Sylvia shrugged, helping herself to all the cake she wanted now that the adults were too busy to prevent her. "Who understands anything they do?"

"Feeling better?" Tommy asked Mabel as he passed her a glass of water.

"No," she answered, taking a sip. "Well, maybe a little? It comes and goes. Mostly goes."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"I don't think so," she sighed honestly.

"What if I rub your feet?"

"Couldn't hurt," Mabel shrugged, lying down and getting into a more comfortable position.

She started up at the ceiling as her husband did his duty, trying to process the long, dreary week. One of the worst of her life. Up there with Weirdmageddon. Probably worse, because at least then she'd managed to bring him back after losing him. This time there was nothing she could do.

"Is this helping?" Tommy asked, kneading her soles expertly.

She shook her head. "Not really."

"Oh," he said, feeling useless as he stood up.

"I didn't say stop!"

"Sorry," he said, returning to the task.

Mabel put her head back down and thought about Stan. She tried to think of the thousands of good times they'd had, either just the two of them or with others. But every time she tried, they were overwritten by her final memory, terrified it would haunt her forever.

"Okay, you can stop now," she told him after several minutes of unwilling indifference.

"Right," he said, standing again. He hesitated as he cleaned his hands, at a loss on what else he could do or if he should even try to do something at all. "If there's anything else you need or want...anything at all…"

Mabel sat up on the bed, pushing her hair behind her ear. "Thank you," she told him. "For everything. I know this has been hard for you to deal with, we've not been married long and this is a big deal but...you've been great. Really. I don't think I could've done this without you."

"Oh." Tommy cleared his throat, looking suddenly sheepish. "Guess this is a bad time to ask for a divorce, huh?"

She laughed and punched him in the arm. "Shut up! Stop making me laugh when I'm trying to be serious!"

"Why would I do that? You're too cute when you laugh, why would I stop?"

"I'm cute whether I'm laughing or not!"

"That you are," he agreed. "But the laugh makes it better."

She smiled, the first real smile she'd had for days. "Really, I mean it. I'm so lucky to have you."

"Yeah. You are."

"You're meant to say you're lucky to have me too!"

He held out a hand and gave it a waggle. "Eh."

She punched him again, harder, though she still laughed, feeling a little better, even if it was only for the moment. Then her eyes settled on the book beside his side of the bed and she pulled it onto her lap.

"Actually, there was one thing I think we can do that might really help," she began, carefully, flicking through the list of baby names until she found the only one that mattered.

Author's note: Heh. It's funny. I remember how nervous I was about killing Stan off in my first fanfic. Now I've killed him twice in one story.

Progress!

Anyway, some of you are probably wondering who Dipper married. Probably because I've left it purposefully vague to both show that I don't really consider that to be important to the story as a whole, and also because I like to mess with people. But I'm willing to give you a few more hints if that'll make you feel better. They met in Gravity Falls, she has long hair aaaand...the second letter of her name is a vowel.

We'll see who can figure it out.

Anyway, this story was meant to finish TWO weeks but a few people at work have had health problems (unrelated to COVID, thankfully) so I ended up taking ten and twelve hour shifts to help out and then I had some family matters that took up much more time than expected. So, yeah. Life.

One chapter left. It's the one Mabel really needs.