A/N: This is a sequel to my story Relativity Falls: New Friends. It's the next story in that series.
Stan had never been very interested in Ford's little nerd game, Dungeons, Dungeons, & More Dungeons. The game took five hours just to set up, and the actual game itself could take weeks of unrealistically long sessions of sitting around, rolling some useless dice and acting like total dorks. Stan didn't really get how the game worked, and he always got annoyed to no end whenever Ford successfully coaxed him into playing with him.
But then, Stan had never really played the game tag-team style before.
"What? Another thirty six?!" Ford's cry of frustration and rage made Stan grin. He didn't think he had ever loved the sound of Ford failing at something so much. Maybe there was something to this nerd game after all.
"Sorry, Ford, Stan's charisma roll was so effective that your earth hydra has now shifted loyalties and joined him." Fiddleford said as he barely kept himself from chuckling at Ford's misfortune.
"Oh come on!" Ford threw his arms out in frustration. He glared viciously at Fiddleford. "Did you have to tell Stan that he could turn his enemies? It's the only thing he does!"
"It's a perfectly legal move." Fiddleford said for the twelfth time as he chuckled at Ford's frustration.
"Yeah, Ford, it's legal." Stan smirked at his brother before turning back to his gaming partner. "So, Fidds, what's our next move?"
Fiddleford opened his mouth to answer, but he froze when his stomach grumbled audibly. "Uh, maybe we should take a lunch break?" He suggested.
"I could eat." Stan stood up and stretched. Besides, maybe it'll give Ford some time to actually come up with a strategy."
"Yes, let's laugh at how humorous it is that I'm outnumbered here." Ford muttered under his breath as he also got to his feet.
"I don't know what you're complaining about." Stan teased. "You're the one who suggested I work with Fidds." It had been another one of Ford's attempts to get Stan and Fiddleford to actually get along with each other, and so far it had been the only attempt to work. It was a lot easier for Stan to consider that Fiddleford wasn't just out to replace him as Ford's best friend when they were working together to beat the nerd at his favorite game. With Stan's luck, Fiddleford's smarts, and both of their creativity combined, they were pretty unstoppable at the game, and it was hilarious just how furious it made Ford.
"Yes, I'm aware that it was my idea." Ford sighed. "Let's just go get some food already." Ford, for once, was the first to walk away from the game and head downstairs. He must have been more frustrated than Stan had first thought.
"This game is funner than it usually is." Stan said as he picked up the 38 sided die and tossed it into the air.
"You're just having fun beating your brother." Fiddleford pointed out.
"Yeah, that too." Stan laughed. "Seriously though, I got pretty sucked into this stupid game. I can see why Ford plays it for twenty hours at a time."
"Uh, you didn't do much better, Stan." Ford said from downstairs. "It's after 6:00."
"What? That's impossible." Stan hurried downstairs and one look at the clock confirmed that Ford hadn't been exaggerating. "How have we been playing that dumb game for five hours?"
"Did I just hear you right?" Grauntie Mabel looked in on them from the kitchen, a mischievous look in her eyes. Stan didn't trust that look, just like he didn't trust the look that she got when she found something sparkly or rainbow. She was a little scary when she got those looks. "Did you brother finally drag you into their nerd games? It's just as I feared. The nerdness is spreading."
Stan felt his face go red, and his ears soon turned hot too when he heard Fiddleford and Ford chuckling at his misfortune. He hated it when somebody teased him, especially when others laughed too. Sure, Stan teased Ford all the time, and he always laughed when others teased him in a friendly way...but this was different!
I hope you guys came down because you're hungry, because dinner's ready." Mabel said. She smiled at Fiddleford. "You can stay and eat with us, if you want."
Fiddleford smiled politely, though somewhat nervously. "I think I should call and ask if it's okay." Stan didn't like how hesitant Fiddleford was to do anything that could possibly insult or worry his guardians. When Stan had mentioned his displeasure to Ford though his brother had just waved it aside and said that Fiddleford just didn't want to do anything to upset the family that was watching him while he was in Gravity Falls.
During the last school year Fiddleford had blown up a part of his school. Most people thought that it was by accident, because it was the kind of thing that Fiddleford did quite often, but he had told them that he had done it on purpose, though he hadn't bothered to explain why. Whatever the reason behind his actions, Fiddleford's parents had thought that some fresh air would be good for him, so they had sent him to Gravity Falls to stay with a family friend for an undetermined amount of time.
While Fiddleford called his temporary guardian, Stan and Ford were dragged into setting the table by their great aunt. Neither of them really wanted to do it, but there was no arguing with Grauntie Mabel. By the time they had finished setting the table, which only took a few moments, considering there were only a couple of places that needed to be set, two of them were doing it, and they didn't need to do anything fancy, Mabel had pulled Fiddleford's phone right out of his hands as she came up with the idea of just letting Fidds stay the night, and she wanted to run the idea by his guardian.
In a matter of just five seconds (Stan made a mental note to figure out his great aunt's techniques, because she was one heck of a convincer) Mabel cheerfully said goodbye to whoever was on the other line and hung up the phone. The older woman then turned to the three boys.
"It's all set. You guys are having a slumber party." Mabel's grin was so broad that it looked like it would stretch right off her face. Stan didn't see what all the excitement was about.
"No, we're not." Stan grumbled as he crossed his arms stubbornly. "Only girls have slumber parties." Stan had watched enough movies to know that much. It just wasn't something that guys did.
"What's this about a slumber party?" Dipper poked his head into the kitchen, a wary expression on his face. "Mabel, I swear, if you set the party cannon off in the house again, I'll-"
"We're not having a slumber party!" Stan yelled. He felt his face go even more red. Why were his great aunt and uncle talking about slumber parties like they were completely regular things for three teenage boys to be doing? It wasn't!
"Don't get yer hair all up in a twist." Fiddleford advised. "It's just a sleepover." Oh...okay, Stan could handle a sleepover. Sure, it was basically an under glorified slumber party, but he thought that it was okay. After all, Stan and Ford were currently sleeping over at their great aunt and uncle's place, and Fiddleford was basically sleeping over at somebody else's house. If parents thought that it was normal to send their teenage boy kids on an extended sleepover, then it must be okay.
"Fine." Stan muttered reluctantly. "But we're not calling it a slumber party." Stan glared at his great aunt, and she just smirked right back at him.
"Whatever you say, Kitten." Mabel ruffled Stan's hair.
"Hey." Stan whined in protest and ducked away from her affection. The boy pointed at the older woman. "I told you, only Jimmy can call me Kitten."
Jimmy Snakes was one of the Mystery Shack's part time workers. He helped Dipper with the magical and unnatural side of things. Stan didn't entirely understand why his Grunkle Dipper had hired Jimmy in the first place, considering the two adults had all but hated each other when they first met, but he wasn't going to complain. Because Jimmy was working at the shack, Stan got to see him quite a lot.
"I don't understand why you let Jimmy call you that ridiculous nickname." Ford said. He still sounded kinda sore about how Stan and Fidds were beating him at his own game.
Stan smirked wickedly at his brother. "Well, if you want to tell Jimmy what you think of the nickname-" A look of brief fear and uncertainty flashed in Ford's eyes as he averted his gaze back to the table. Stan chuckled. "Yeah, that's what I thought." Ford was scared of Jimmy. He and Dipper actually used to think that Jimmy Snakes was a demon, which was just ridiculous. Stan was sure that his brother and great uncle were still uncertain about Jimmy, but they were both too smart to share their opinions with Stan. Especially not after the last time they had done so. He had only just started to forgive them for trying to make him hate Jimmy.
Ford, who seemed eager to get away from the topic of Jimmy, turned back towards Mabel. "What kind of things would we be doing at this slum-uh, I mean, sleepover?" Stan gave his brother an odd look.
"Come on, Sixer, we don't need rules or schedules for a sleepover," Stan was sure that that was what Ford had in mind when he had asked. Although, now that Stan thought about it he remembered that he'd never been to a sleepover before either, so for all he knew there really were rules for it. Stan looked to his Grauntie and Grunkle for reassurance. "...Right?"
Mabel opened her mouth to answer, but Dipper was quick to put a hand over her mouth to stop her. Dipper then looked at them and smiled. "There's no rules. Right, Mabel?" Dipper glared at his sister. "Anything that you're thinking of just applies to slumber parties, and that's not what the boys are having. They're having a sleepover, which is a completely different thing. Right, Stan?" Dipper winked at Stan, who grinned broadly back.
"Yeah," Stan agreed eagerly. He wouldn't know how to deal with them having a slumber party. Sleepovers were a lot easier. No matter what Ford's eye roll or Fidds' stifled chuckles seemed to suggest, they weren't the same thing.
"So, uh," Fiddleford coughed and tried to keep his face straight. "Were we going to eat dinner?"
"No, we can't yet!" Mabel said loudly, making them all flinch. "Slumber parties can't just have boring old waffles, they need party waffles, with whipped cream, and sugar, and sprinkles."
"Does that still apply if it's just a sleepover and not a slumber party?" Stan grumbled, because he still refused to call this thing a slumber party. It just wasn't what they were doing. Stan's comment was ignored.
"Do you really think it's a good idea to give the kids a sugar rush when we're expecting them to sleep tonight?" Dipper gave his sister an unimpressed look.
"Doesn't matter, it's what we're doing." Mabel grabbed her brother's arm. "We need to go on an emergency grocery store trip." She didn't even give Dipper the chance to argue before she was dragging him towards the door.
"Wh-Mabel! We can't just leave the kids," Dipper pulled back against his sister. "And I doubt they want to come with us."
"Not at all," Stan said. Trips to the store with Mabel were usually a lot of fun, and when he went with Dipper the man would always put him in charge of keeping track on how much money they would be spending. Stan suspected that it was because Dipper had heard that his math grades were really bad, and this was his way of helping him study or something. Stan didn't mind it though, because no matter what people told him, he didn't connect money stuff with math. He was really bad at math, but he was a master at money.
If Stan was just going to the store with one of his temporary guardians, he usually enjoyed himself. However, if he went with both of them, he usually came home feeling sick to his stomach. Whenever they all went to the store, or anywhere public, it seemed like if Stan so much as opened his mouth while they were there, Dipper would give him a warning look, like he was doing something wrong. The first time it had happened Stan had been so shocked and unnerved, thinking that his great-uncle was mad at him for something, that he had just lowered his head and kept completely quiet for the rest of the day. Dipper had later explained to him that he was used to Mabel making a scene at the grocery store, and he wouldn't be able to keep an eye on more than one troublemaker.
Stan had been relieved that Dipper hadn't really been mad at him, but he didn't want to take his chances. He did what he could to avoid going out in public with both Dipper and Mabel, and that included going to the grocery store.
"Well, we can't just not have whipped cream for the waffles," Mabel insisted, and the way that she said it made it sound like it was a matter of life and death. "Do you think that Maria is still around?"
Dipper sighed and put a hand to his head. "We can't ask our cleaning lady to babysit the kids."
Stan seethed at the term 'babysit'. They may be kids, but they definitely weren't babies. They were old enough to not need a babysitter, but he knew that nothing he said would change Dipper or Mabel's minds.
"Why not?" Mabel asked. "She'd love the chance to make a little extra money. And she loves the kids."
"No, she tolerates the kids." Dipper corrected his sister, but Mabel wasn't listening to him. She had already run off to find the cleaning lady who tidied up the shack every Monday and Wednesday. Stan didn't know Maria Ramirez all that well, as she only ever came over twice a week, but considering she didn't yell at him, or even seem all that disappointed, when he tracked dirt into the shack or broke something, he thought she was pretty okay.
Dipper, realizing that there was no arguing with Mabel at this point, sighed and turned towards the kids. "Why don't you guys go upstairs and get things set up?"
Stan didn't really know just what needed to be 'set up'. Weren't they just going to put some pillows and blankets on the floor, and just call that good? Then again, the attic's floor was currently covered with Dungeons, Dungeons, & More Dungeons papers. That stuff would have to move if one of them was going to sleep on the floor.
Ford, who was always eager to impress their grunkle Dipper, hurried to lead the way upstairs. Stan was not all that fond of cleaning, but he wasn't about to just not do as he was told. He wasn't usually all that obedient, as his parents and teachers would be quick to tell anybody who asked, but he was hesitant to push Grunkle Dipper's buttons. Dipper seemed a little intense sometimes, and Stan didn't know him well enough to know what his limits were. Stan wasn't afraid of getting into a little bit of trouble, but he really didn't want to give his relatives any reason to hate him.
Stan trudged up the stairs, taking his sweet old time. By the time he got to the attic Ford had already neatly piled together the chart papers and put them aside. With the remaining game bits, Stan knew that Ford would take care of them, so he just let him deal with it. Stan went to his bed, grabbed the thick blanket that Graunty Mabel insisted be on the bed, even though it was the middle of Summer, and threw it on the ground. Whoever was going to sleep on the floor could use it to make the ground a little softer.
They hadn't talked about who would be on the beds and who would be on the floors. Stan knew who he thought should be on the floor, because it just made sense to him that the people whose room it was should have the beds. Ford also seemed to have made a decision already, but it wasn't the same as Stan's was.
"Feel free to take a bed, Fiddleford," Ford said. "Me or Stan can take the floor."
Stan frowned at his brother and crossed his arms. "Why do you get to make that decision?" If this was something that involved all of them, shouldn't they all get a say?
Ford gave his brother an unimpressed look. He'd been doing that a lot more lately, probably picking it up from Dipper and Mabel, who looked at each other that way all the time. "We're not making out guest sleep on the ground, Stanley,"
"Actually, I don't mind-" Fiddleford began, but Stan and Ford were too focused on each other to pay attention to what he had to say.
"But it's okay to force your own twin to sleep on the floor?" Stan raised his voice slightly. He didn't even know why he was getting so mad.
Ford's cheeks got a red tint to them and his eyes hardened. "I never said it had to be you."
"Yeah, but you didn't volunteer your bed either," Stan pointed out. "You said that one of us would sleep on the floor, throwing me in there without even asking me about it first."
"Oh, don't act like it's such a betrayal," Ford scoffed. "You were going to make Fiddleford sleep on the floor, and you know it."
That was completely true, but Stan still didn't like that Ford was just assuming the worst from him. He was about to tell Ford just what he thought about his high and mighty attitude when Fiddleford stepped between them, pushing them away from each other.
"Alrigh', that's enough," Fiddleford said sternly, his Southern accent coming through even more clearly than it usually did, which was saying something. "There ain't no need to get nasty with each other. Why don't we work this out in a civilized manner?"
Stan and Ford glared at each other, and without saying a word about it they both made one hand into a fist and rested it on the palm of their other hand. Basically the universal sign for Rock-Paper-Scissors. Fiddleford grinned, took a step back so that they were no longer in a line, but a triangle, and joined in the game. It took a couple of rounds, because they kept on arguing about how Ford was trying to change the rules to make it more complicated, or Stan was cheating because he delayed a little bit. Eventually though they were able to figure it out, and there was a very clear loser.
Stan grumbled as he grabbed one of Ford's pillows and tossed it on top of the thick blanket. This was why he didn't like to play games fair and square, because he always lost.
Ford smiled at Stan, amusement in his eyes. "You know, if you really don't want to be on the floor-" Ford seemed like he was enjoying Stan's frustrations, but his unspoken offer was sincere. If Stan was really bothered by this, then Ford would be willing to switch places with him.
"No, it's fine," Stan muttered. Ford frequently fell asleep at his desk, and he always woke up sore and cranky. Stan could sleep wherever he wanted and feel just fine in the morning, so it only made sense that he took the floor instead of Ford.
As Stan got to work trying to make a blanket nest to sleep in (if he was going to be sleeping in a non-traditional way, then he might as well go all out), Dipper opened the door, poking his head in.
"Mabel's not going to be taking 'no' for an answer this time, so we'll be going to the store for a bit. If you guys need anything, Maria is just downstairs cleaning the family room." Dipper said. "Try not to bother her. She's already staying overtime, there's no need to make her job any harder than it already is." Stan was slightly annoyed at the way that Dipper looked at him when he said this, but he couldn't be too upset, because he knew that it was something that he would totally do.
"Dipper!" Grauntie Mabel's voice called out from downstairs. "We've gotta go!"
Dipper groaned, not looking all that happy about what he was being dragged into. "We'll be back soon. Try not to burn the house down while we're gone." Dipper then turned and ran back downstairs, yelling for his sister to have a little more patience.
The second they heard the front door shut, Stan turned towards Ford with a mischievous and excited grin. "Hey, we have the whole shack to ourselves."
Ford grimaced, but a slow smile crept onto his face. "You're not seriously thinking…"
"Oh, you bet I am," Stan stood up and pumped his fist into the air triumphantly. "Mystery Shack Scavenger Hunt!"
"You know Great Uncle Dipper doesn't like us playing that game," Ford said, but he was still smiling. Stan could tell that it would take very little convincing to convince Ford to join the game.
"What Grunkle Dipper doesn't know won't hurt us." Stan said. If he only ever did what Grunkle Dipper wanted, he would never be able to do anything fun around here. He preferred Grauntie Mabel's way of doing what he wanted, and worrying about the consequences when they hit.
"What's Mystery Shack Scavenger Hunt?" Fiddleford asked. Like Stan, Fiddleford didn't seem at all worried that playing the game may involve breaking some house rules.
"We all go down to the Shack and make a list of attractions for the others to find," Stan said. "I describe the attraction itself while this nerd writes down made up words."
"They're not made up," Ford laughed as he shoved Stan's arm. They'd had this argument too many times for him to be truly insulted about it anymore. "What Stan means is that I write down the attraction's real name or describe what it actually does, and Stan writes down what he thinks the attraction is."
It was less a game about finding everything on the list, and more about figuring out what each other was saying. Neither of them were very good at the game. No matter how many times they played it, Stan could never remember which attraction was a gremloblin eye, and Ford never knew which attraction Stan meant when he wrote down 'cursed demon necklace', because while there were a dozen cursed necklaces, and a number of ones that had symbols that represented demons, there apparently wasn't any amulet that was both.
"That sounds fun," Fiddleford said. "I'm in."
"I guess I'm outnumbered here," Ford said. He grabbed three notebooks and handed one each to Fiddleford and Stan. "Alright, rules. We can only use the public attractions. We have five minutes to write down twelve attractions, six from Mabel's half, six from Dipper's half."
"No making things up," Stan added. "What you list has to be what you'd actually call the attraction."
"Since there's three of us playing, we should each write down our list twice." Ford said. "Both lists should be identical." The three of them nodded in agreement. "Ready? Go!" The three of them pushed each other aside in their rush to get down the stairs. Fiddleford and Ford ran right into the Mystery Shack half while Stan went into the art museum.
Stan spent a lot of time in the art museum, but he didn't completely understand it. The attractions were always changing, and if Stan had any say on what to call them every single attraction would be called Yarn Blob. However, he'd heard Grauntie Mabel talk enough about what each of these attractions represented that he was able to come up with things to write. Hopefully Ford and Fiddleford didn't know that Inner Demons was talking about the rug with the weird triangle in the middle of it.
Stan quickly wrote down his descriptions before he moved on to the Mystery Shack. This was the reason why Dipper didn't like it when they played this game. Because of the nature of the game, Stan had to look at the attractions by himself, and Grunkle Dipper was a little paranoid about Stan being alone with his precious attractions. He seemed to think that Stanley couldn't go unsupervised for more than five minutes without punching something or knocking it over. Grunkle Dipper also thought that Stan's made-up names were demeaning.
Stan was usually able to finish his list with time to spare, but needing to write down twice as much was really time consuming. Stan only had ten items on each list when he heard Fiddleford call out that five minutes was up. Stan really quickly wrote down 'goat child flute' and 'murder hand' on one of the lists. It was technically going over time, but if Stan could squeeze in a couple more answers before turning in a test at school, he could stretch the time limit for their game.
Stan only dared to take the time to write things down on one of the lists before going to the living room to join the others, who were already waiting for them. Ford was eyeing him suspiciously, like he already knew that he had already cheated, which was an unfair assumption. A true one, yes, but still unfair.
"Here," Stan passed his notebook to Fiddleford, who was closer to him.
"What took you so long?" Ford asked. Stan couldn't have been more than a minute.
"I was just finishing writing stuff down," Stan said. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Fiddleford quickly scribbling something onto Stan's notebook. In just a matter of seconds Fiddleford was finished. He ripped one of the pages out, the one with the list that Stan had finished, and handed it to Ford.
"Let's not start fighting before we even start the game," Fiddleford said. He subtly showed Stan that he had added the last two items onto the list for him, which Stan appreciated. He liked to think that Ford might have given him time to complete the two lists, but he was half worried that Ford would insist that the last two items not count, since he hadn't written them down within the time limit.
Ford relented and gave Stan and Fiddleford a copy of his list while Fiddleford did the same. "Alright, but definitely no going over the actual searching, because that really will be cheating." Stan had no problem with that. He could search a lot quicker than he could write stuff down.
"Fifteen minutes enough time?" Stan asked. Their scavenger hunts were usually ten minutes, but with another player and more things to find, more time would be needed. Ford and Fiddleford agreed. Once again, the three of them were running off, struggling to find a balance between going quickly and being careful to not break anything and get in trouble.
Stan had always thought that playing this game using just Ford's list was challenging enough, but Fiddleford's list made Ford's look easy. Fiddleford had listed things like 'the White Screamer's Shadow' and 'Skinned Tom's knife'. Stan wasn't an expert in supernatural junk like his brother and uncle were, but he'd never even heard of a lot of the things on Fiddleford's list.
Whenever they played this game, it was complete luck whenever Stan got anything right from Ford's list. He didn't think that even luck would help him with Fiddleford's list. Stan decided to start with Mabel's attractions, since he was more familiar with those, and sometimes Ford's closest guess as to what the art exhibits were called were things like 'purple sweater...maybe?', and those were a lot easier to figure out than 'runes from the ruins of Raladore'.
While fifteen minutes sounded like a lot of time, Stan had twenty four exhibits to find. That meant that he had to find, like, two items every minute or something like that. Ford would probably know exactly how much time he would have for each exhibit, but Stan was fine with his basic guess. It was good enough for him.
Stan spent only five minutes in Mabel's area. It wasn't nearly enough time to get all twelve of Ford and Fiddleford's Mabel exhibits, but he always struggled most with Dipper's area, so he wanted to save as much time for that as he could.
All too soon, the fifteen minutes were up. Stan didn't even have guesses for everything on the lists, and he was only a little bit confident about three or four things, but he took comfort in the fact that Ford and Fiddleford couldn't have done much better than him. Stan met up with the others in the front hall.
Stan was disappointed when he saw Ford already waiting for him. He would have loved to be the first one there so he could rub it in Ford's face that he was the late one. At least Fiddleford wasn't there yet. Stan didn't want to deal with Ford's accusations of him cheating again.
Once all three of them were there they went to the entrance to Dipper's Mystery Shack attractions. Stan gave Ford and Fiddleford back their lists, and Ford handed his back to him. The way that this next bit worked was they would take turns reading the items on their own lists while the other two would point to their best guess as to what the thing on the list went.
Stan started. He was pleased to see that Fiddleford only guessed two things right, and Ford, who knew him better, got four. Stan's confidence went down when he was only able to guess one of Ford's right, and he was wrong about all of Fiddleford's. He wasn't normally this bad at the game. He got really close with most of his guesses, they were all the right general kind of artifact, but close enough wasn't good enough for Mystery Shack Scavenger Hunt.
By the time they moved on to Mabel's area, Stan was losing with just one point. Fiddleford was in second with four points, and Ford was in the lead with five. The only thing that kept Ford from boasting and Stan from getting moody because he was losing was that the game was only halfway done. They were about to go to Mabel's half of the shack, and it was always this half of the game where Stan thrived.
Stan was able to guess three of Ford's and two of Fiddleford's exhibits right. Fiddleford was right about two of Ford's and Stan's answers. Ford, who really didn't understand abstract art, got one of Fiddleford's and none of Stan's. The winner of the game was clearly Fiddleford, with eight total points. Stan and Ford were tied with six points each, and neither of them were satisfied with that. What was the point of having a competition between twins if it didn't settle anything?
"The carpet shouldn't count." Ford crossed his arms as he glared at Stan. "It's not an exhibit, it's a floor piece."
"Grauntie Mabel says everything around here is art," Stan argued. "She says even the water stain on the wall is art."
"Well, it shouldn't be," Ford said.
"Who died and put you in charge of what counts as art?" Stan asked.
Fiddleford looked like he couldn't decide whether to be amused or concerned about their arguing. "Why don't you just ask Mabel? It's her museum, she should know what counts as an exhibit." Stan and Ford looked at each other. They didn't normally like involving their aunt or uncle into their competitions. Dipper thought they were pointless and just encouraged fighting. Mabel egged on their competitive natures, but if she was ever asked to settle something, she would just say that they were both winners in her eyes.
Fiddleford did have a point though, so when Stan and Ford heard the car pulling up in front of the house, they both dashed outside. Ford grabbed Stan's arm and pulled him back when it looked like he was pulling ahead. In return, Stan tackled his brother. When the door opened and Dipper and Mabel came inside, Stan and Ford were wrestling on the ground.
"Whoa, whoa, hey!" Dipper picked Stan up and pulled him off of Ford. "What's going on?"
"Grauntie Mabel," Ford looked at her with wide, hopeful eyes. He didn't want to be wrong any more than Stan did. "Does the carpet in your museum count as an exhibit?"
Dipper frowned. "Carpet? What carpet?" For some reason, Mabel shifted her gaze away from her brother like she was ashamed.
"You know, the one with the weird demon triangle on it." Stan said. Dipper stiffened so much that his hold on Stan got nearly bruising in pressure. Stan froze, barely daring to breath. What did he do wrong this time?
"Weird triangle demon?" Dipper asked in a quiet voice that couldn't decide if it was angry or terrified. Stan could feel shaking, but he didn't know if it was him or Dipper doing the shaking. "You have a carpet of-"
"Calm down, dipping dot," Mabel came up to Dipper and put a hand on his shoulder. She put a hand on Stan's arm and made to pull him gently away, but Dipper just tightened his grip on Stan and pulled him back. Stan yelped in surprise, slight alarm, and just a little bit of pain. Dipper flinched and let go of Stan, who quickly stepped out of arm's reach.
"I...sorry," Dipper said. He looked at Stan, but didn't quite meet his eyes. Dipper was never as comfortable around people as Mabel was, but he usually had the confidence to make eye-contact. Stan couldn't help but notice that at some of Dipper's more intense, somewhat scary moments, he really didn't like looking at eyes. Even a drawing of an eye could make Dipper panic. Stan hated when this happened, especially when he felt like it was his fault and he didn't even know what he did.
"I promise, Dipper, I meant to get rid of the carpet, but it's stuck," Mabel said apologetically. Dipper blinked.
"Stuck? But I don't remember…" Dipper groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'll see what I can do."
"Dipper, no," Mabel said desperately. "You don't have to. I'll do it."
"I can handle it," Dipper said. "I just want to make sure it gets done." Dipper gave Stan another apologetic look. "Just...watch the kids, okay? Make those slumber party, I mean, sleepover waffles."
"Are you sure?" Mabel frowned.
"I'm sure," Dipper gave her a reassuring smile that was small but sincere. "Hey, when I'm done we can have a bonfire. Been awhile since we had one of those." Stan and Ford exchanged glances. Dipper and Mabel only had a fire when one of them desperately wanted to get rid of something, whether it be a cursed object that was too dangerous or an old painting of a unicorn.
"If you're sure," Mabel didn't look completely convinced, but she didn't argue more with her brother. Mabel put her hands on Stan and Ford's shoulders and led them into the kitchen. Fiddleford, who had followed them to find Mabel, quietly followed them. "So, who's ready for waffles?"
Stan for one wasn't feeling so hungry anymore, but if Mabel and Dipper were so insistent on pretending that everything was normal, who was he to stop them? Stan knew a thing or two about wanting to ignore things that were hard to think about.
"Me!" Stan said loudly and with probably just a touch too much forced enthusiasm. Waffles were really sugary, and what better way to avoid hard issues than by eating lots of junk? He was more genuinely excited when Mabel handed him a knife and asked him to cut the strawberries. At home, Mom never let him cut things. She thought that he was just a little bit too eager, and he may have accidentally cut his fingers a few dozen times.
Mabel was more than happy to give him an outlet for what Dipper called his 'violent tendencies'. She also let Ford make some whipped cream, since she got too enthusiastic about it and usually over whipped it until it resembled really sugary butter more than whipped cream. Fiddleford would have been happy to help too, but Mabel wouldn't let anybody touch the chocolate or caramel sauces or the waffle batter itself, because she had some secret ingredients that she wouldn't let anybody else know about. Mabel did, however, allow Fiddleford to run the waffle iron itself.
The waffles and toppings were just getting finished when Dipper came into the kitchen, an iron bar in his hand and a manic look in his eyes. Mabel passed him a plate that was more whipped cream and sprinkles than waffles.
"How'd it go, bro-bro?" Mabel asked.
"The good news is we don't have to worry about the rug anymore, and we can have S'mores after dinner." Dipper said. He sounded stressed and a little nervous, but not nearly as panicked as before. "The bad news is that there's now a rug-sized hole on the floor because I had to pull the wood out."
"I'm sure Boyish Dan will be glad to get some part-time work." Mabel said. "I'll call him tomorrow."
"So, uh, what's the big deal with the evil carpet?" Stan asked. He knew he probably shouldn't be asking, but he wasn't very good at keeping his questions to himself. If there was something on his mind, he spoke up.
"It's nothing," Dipper said too quickly. He started to eat his waffles to have a reason to not answer him.
Stan crossed his arms. "You wouldn't freak out if it was nothing." Dipper didn't even meet his gaze. "You know, I could always just get Poindexter to do some nerd research into this and-"
"Don't you dare!" Dipper shouted and slammed his fist on the table, making it shake. Stan blinked and leaned back away from his great uncle. Even Ford looked startled. "Stuff like this is too dangerous! If you look into this I'll...I'll…" Dipper grimaced and sighed. He rested his face in his hands. "Please, guys, just...don't go looking into this stuff. I can't tell you why, just, please, leave it alone."
Ford slid his hands behind his back and looked at the floor. "...We won't." Stan knew that Ford had to be even more curious than he was, but he looked up to Dipper too much to disobey him.
"Yeah, whatever," Stan muttered. He didn't have as much of an issue with doing things he was specifically told not to do, but Dipper had reacted so badly just by Stan implying a small mystery hunt, which he hadn't really been serious about. Dipper may be a nerd like Ford, but he wasn't afraid of going on monster hunts. Dipper was stronger than he looked, and Stan didn't want to get on his bad side.
Fiddleford watched the four of them somewhat nervously. He looked like he was waiting for something more to happen, and Stan realized that he was waiting for the same thing. That was the end of the conversation though. They finished eating their waffles, with Mabel occasionally throwing sprinkle's into Dipper's hair.
When they had all eaten at least two waffles, with both Stan and Fiddleford wanting to stop at just one, but Mabel insisting that they have more, Dipper brought them outside where a large but contained fire was burning. Other than the odd smell in the air, there was no sign of the rug. Even though Dipper had acted so weird before, he started roasting marshmallows for the promised S'mores like nothing had happened. Stan didn't know whether to be relieved or wary about this.
Mabel and Stan were too impatient to spend several minutes roasting marshmallows, they just lit them on fire. Ford and Dipper would both rather put their marshmallows at just the right angle and distance from the fire to bring them to golden brown perfection. Of all of them, Fiddleford was probably the smartest one. He didn't bother with roasting his marshmallows, he just ate them as they were.
As they all ate, Dipper told stories about when he had first come to Gravity Falls decades ago. Mabel had been staying with him for a long time, but when Dipper had first come here, Mabel had still been in art school in California. Dipper had been on his own for several years. Dipper was a little vague about what the year or so before Mabel showed up, or why she came at all, but whenever either Stan or Ford was about to ask about one of the holes in Dipper's story, Mabel jumped in and started talking about her adventures at school. It was a decent distraction, but it just made Stan feel more curious. Adults didn't distract kids for no reason.
Encouraged by Dipper's story, Ford started talking about his and Stan's small attempt to find the Jersey Devil. It had been Stan's idea, because he needed some break from home, and he'd thought that if he and Ford could find a supernatural freaky creature, Ford might feel better about his hands. They'd never managed to find the Jersey Devil, but Ford was convinced it was out there. They just hadn't been able to get out and look for it very much. Maybe when the summer was over they'd give it another try.
Dipper gave them a few vague monster hunting tips, but he also told them that each creature was different, so he would have to learn more about the Jersey Devil to really help them.
Multiple times as they talked, Stan thought that the conversation had died out and they would go back inside, but Dipper would take one look at the still burning fire and frantically come up with something new to talk about. Mabel was more than happy to pick up on any topic Dipper picked. It wasn't until the fire had completely burned itself out and there wasn't a single amber remaining did Dipper say that it was starting to get a little late, and he had work to get back to.
Ford looked like he wanted to help Dipper with his help, but their great uncle hurried inside before he could even ask.
"Did you kids make forts for your slumber party?" Mabel asked.
"Sleepover," Stan said automatically. "And no...but I made a blanket nest to sleep in."
Mabel laughed and rustled Stan's hair. "A kid after my own heart." She looked at the three of them. "I know it's still a little early, but maybe you guys could go up to the attic and get ready for bed."
"What?" Stan and Ford looked at their aunt in shock. She wasn't as much of a night owl as Dipper was, but she was far from the model of someone who got a good night's sleep. She and Dipper always let Stan and Ford choose for themselves when they went to bed and woke up, only intervening when Ford was still awake at three in the morning, or Stan slept in until noon. It was weird to hear her suggest that they go to bed, especially so early.
"Well, if a sleepover is anything like a slumber party, you guys will just stay awake for another few hours talking anyways." Mabel said.
"You and Great Uncle Dipper have been acting weird all night." Ford crossed his arms.
"Yeah," Stan put his hands on his hips. "Is this still about the weird rug?"
Mabel's smile became somewhat strained and forced. "You kids are way too smart for your own good." She put a hand on each of their heads. "Maybe we'll tell you when you're older." That wasn't reassuring. Mabel wasn't somebody who dealt with maybes, that was more Dipper's style. Stan wished that Mabel would just say what she meant. 'We're not going to tell you kids anything, but I know you won't accept this, so I'll pretend there's hope'.
Stan wondered if all adults were this frustrating and confusing, or if it was just their aunt and uncle.
Ford frowned and fiddled with his fingers and Stan scowled. Neither of them were eager to let the matter drop, but Fiddleford grabbed their arms. "Actually, fellas, I'm getting a little tired. Maybe we should go to bed." He didn't give them the chance to answer, he just started pulling them into the house. Stan tried to pull away from Fiddleford, but the hick was a lot stronger than he looked. Fiddleford was able to force Stan and Ford back into the house and upstairs with very little trouble.
The moment they were in the attic Stan yanked his arm away from Fiddleford and hit his punching bag. Ford sat down at the window and started to frantically write something down in one of those journals of his.
"Gah!" Stan hit his punching bag with so much force that it almost came back and hit him in the face. "I don't get what their problem is!"
"They were acting really weird." Ford muttered. "I've seen that triangle symbol around all over Gravity Falls. It has to mean something. Maybe if we can find the common denominator."
"Maybe we should just leave well enough alone," Fiddleford said. Stan found himself reluctantly agreeing with him.
"Yeah, I mean, Grunkle Dipper looked kinda mad when I suggested it earlier." Stan said quietly. Ford lowered his notebook and looked at Stan strangely.
"Since when do you care about making someone angry?" Ford asked.
"I don't," Stan scowled and glared at his punching bag. "I just...forget about it." Ford loved listening to authority. As smart and independent as Ford was, he liked following someone else's example and being told what to do. Why did Ford have to find it so odd whenever Stan decided to do the same? It wasn't like Stan defied authority just for the sake of it...most of the time.
Stan went to his sleeping pile and buried himself under the blankets. He wasn't trying to hide from the world or anything. He just knew that Ford was in an investigating mood, and Stan didn't want to be interrogated tonight. He didn't really want to sleep, but it was better than getting into a fight with Ford.
A/N: This chapter is twice as long as most of my other chapters are. I don't know what it is about this series that has me writing longer chapters. It just feels more natural to squeeze so much into each chapter.
Also, this chapter had so much more paranoid Dipper than I'd intended. He's just so much fun to write.