In 1950-something, Mr. and Mrs. Pines brought two perfectly healthy, yet unusual children into the world. At first glance, the infants seemed normal, but if you looked closely, you'd be able to see their oddness.

The oldest, Stanford, was born strange. Everything about him was strange. At first, he didn't cry. He was perfectly content to stare around at the bright hospital room he was in. His dark blue eyes soaking in every feature of the room. Then his sister was born ten minutes later.

The moment Mabel entered the world she made a huge wail, and that triggered Stanford's late reaction. The doctors, who were freaking out as he just lay there, breathed large sighs of relief. The two of them were swept away, ready to be cleaned and presented to their proud parents.

Two identical tufts of brown hair lay plastered on the children's foreheads. Two identical tiny bodies were placed in Mrs. Pines' arms. Two not-so identical hands were wrapped around two of her fingers.

It took Caryn a moment to realize it. She blinked several times, then said quietly, "Filbrick... Can you look at something for me?"

Her husband gave a small grunt, then she lifted Stanford's tiny hand. "Do you mind... counting all of Stanford's... fingers." She whispered, glancing down at Mabel, then back up at her husband. "I think something's wrong with his hand..."

Filbrick sighed. "I'm sure nothing's wrong with my son." He said, but he did what his wife asked. "See?" He lifted Ford's hand gently, then said out loud, lifting a finger every time. "One. Two. Three. Four. Five... Six..." He blinked deeply, and Caryn bit her lip. Filbrick's face turned into an unreadable expression, something Caryn knew meant that he was upset. "My son has six fingers."

Caryn nodded, gulping deeply. "Check the other one."

When the results came back the same, Caryn nervously called a nurse over. Unlike most children born with six fingers, Stanford's seemed to be... perfectly normal. Caryn put her foot down on not having surgery. Her son was perfect, just the way he was. There was no reason to change him.

Not that they told him they could have done that.

Little did they know, that day in the middle of June, that the children they were holding would change the world. Of course, they would do that by keeping it the same. The best way to know you saved everyone is to have no one appreciate what you've done.

And thus, Stanford and Mabel Pines entered the world. And to be honest, no one knew that they were truly mismatched.

Mabel played with the end of her curly hair. She had cut it once since she'd moved into 618 Gopher Rd. It had rested on her shoulders, and it made her look like an adorable grandma lady, but she'd decided to grow it out. There was just something about almost being able to sit on her hair that made her feel... secure. When she'd been homeless she hadn't dared let it grow out. It was dangerous to go around with long hair. The less hair you had to grab, the more chance you had to get away...

Even though it had been thirty years since she'd been living in her car, she still had this strange feeling that she'd wake up back in it. Like all these years were just a dream. Then she felt the bruise on her chin. Ford had gotten stronger in that sci-fi dimension. It had to be real. Nothing was more real than pain.

Pain. That's what she saw when she looked into Ford's eyes. There was pain behind them, even though she knew he'd never admit it. The entire time they'd lived together she knew he was too mature for his own good. Worrying about things that he shouldn't. So she'd turned up the dial on her Mabel-ness. She'd make him Waffbels (similar to her nephew's Stancakes) and force him to drink Mabel juice. She'd go out of her way to make him do silly things, and eventually, Ford just went along with her craziness.

Until that stupid project. Until it wasn't a game anymore.

Mabel hadn't meant to break it. She really hadn't. It had been an accident. It's always an accident with you! And this time your 'mistakes' have cost our family potential millions!

Her father... The very thought of the man who had thrown her aside after she'd made a mistake (sure it was a huge mistake, but you don't just... do what he had done) made her stick her hair in her mouth. She felt like a kid. Look at her, a sixty-somthing-year-old acting like she was twelve.

"You know that's not good for you."

She looked up and saw her brother, standing in the doorway of the kitchen. His hands held a white mug, which had tendrils of steam pouring over the curved edges. His eyes were tired, but every other part of him seemed ready to run a marathon. His red sweater was a bit wrinkly; like he had slept in it, and his coat was lopsided on his shoulders. He had just woken up.

Mabel spat her hair out of her mouth, the wetness sticking to her hand, which was resting lightly on the kitchen table. She rolled her eyes then said, "As if your hair looks better. How did you get gel wherever you were?"

Ford rolled his eyes, and leaned against the doorway. "I didn't. It naturally does this. I'm sure you remember how yours was." He glanced uncomfortably towards the floor, but Mabel nodded anyway. She glanced at his mug then asked, "Coffee?" Her brother nodded. "It just doesn't taste the same anywhere else. You should have seen..." He trailed off, then sighed.

Mabel shifted uncomfortably, her eyes trailed from her brother to the table. A book lay on top of it, one she didn't recognize. It was thick, about as thick as the Journals, and its cover was dark blue. Ford crossed the room silently and sat down in front of it, his chair scraping on the floor. He set his mug down next to the book, then picked the tome up. Mabel read the words on the front, and saw that it was an American history book.

"Whatcha reading?" she asked, and something inside her just felt... right. This was how it was supposed to be, her sitting next to her brother, him reading a book, or telling her about a book. This was how the world was supposed to work.

"I missed thirty years," Ford said, adjusting the book so he held it propped up with his left hand. He reached forward and grabbed the handle of the mug with his free hand, his last two fingers not quite fitting. He lifted it up to his lips, took a swallow, and then moved it away slightly. "I'm catching up on 'current' events. Who is the President by the way?"

Mabel snorted softly. "How should I know?" she asked, leaning back in her chair and watching Ford raise his eyebrows at her. "I was never into politics."

Ford sighed, looking over the top of his book at his sister. "Mabel, it's every American's duty to know who the President is. Did you not vote in the election?" He took another sip, and read a line in the book. How he multitasked like that was beyond Mabel.

"Never voted in an election, never will." Mabel said, and she smiled when Ford glanced over at her, a disapproving look in his eyes. "Didn't exactly care." She rolled her eyes as Ford began to lecture her on the importance of picking a leader for a country. He began to ramble about the things in America that he had missed in the Multiverse, and Mabel half tuned him out.

"Well, if the Mutliverse was so bad," Mabel said, after Ford had finished his little rant, "Why were you so upset with me when I got you out?" Ford's mouth snapped shut for a moment, then he said quietly, "Because you almost destroyed the universe."

Mabel shrugged. "You're more important. Listen, Ford, I'll do anything to keep you safe. Anything. I know what it's like to be far away from anything familiar, and... I just couldn't..." She pressed her lips together, and a small whimper sounded from the back of her throat. Ford closed his book and placed it on the table, along with his mug. He reached an arm over the wood and closed his hand over her shoulder. "Mabel... I..."

Their eyes met, and Ford froze. He glanced at her chin, which had a small bruise. "I'll go get you some ice. I'm... sorry."

AN:

First things first. I'm not Alex Hirsch. Along with the rest of you. (But if you are... Thanks!) I'm also not Disney, so I literally own nothing except the structure of the sentences.

If you couldn't tell, this is an alternate universe. In one of my other fics (The many faces of the Author) I wrote a chapter where Ford and Mabel were the twins from the 1950s. It's a simple switch, where Mabel and Stan take each other's places. It features a more emotional Ford (because sisters bring out your emotions) and a (slightly) more reckless Dipper. There are some changes with Mabel and Stan (obviously) but I'll introduce those all later.

These won't all be in cronological order. I'll put them out when I'm inspired. So who knows how ofted that'll be. Feel free to let me know if there's anything you would like to see!

With all the best wishes. -BrilliantLight