Mabel woke up early. She was used to waking up early so she could knit her sweater for the day, but with no yarn or needles, she was forced to sit and think about her situation.

Dipper still hadn't come for her. There was no telling when or if he would come for her. So, as much as Mabel didn't want to, she knew it would be smart to assume the worst and plan for that: Dipper wasn't coming. She was stuck here.

Ford was very nice and seemed to like her. If he was the Author of the Journals, then he might believe her if she told him she was from the future. But what if he didn't like her anymore because she wasn't supposed to be here? Mabel did believe that honesty was the best policy, but maybe she should wait for the right time.

The sun had not yet begun sparkling in through the stain-glass window, but it would by the end of the hour. It was seven in the morning, which means it would be ten in the morning for her. Ford sat up in bed, his sheets falling off his chest and onto his lap, grabbed the phone, and dialed the number for a phone psychic.

"That'll be ninety-nine cents an hour."

Ford couldn't keep the small amount of laughter off his voice. "Even with inflation, you're still overpriced, Ma."

"Stanford!" She hollered happily, and Ford swore her throat was tightening. "Thank Moses! It's so good to hear from you! What a lovely surprise! You never call, darling."

Ford sighed, his small amount of joy soon replaced with melancholy thoughts and feelings, such emotions he had forced himself to push down for six years. And now they were pushing back. "I know. I'm… I'm sorry, Ma."

"Oh, honey, no need to feel sorry. I know you're very busy. And we did talk last month for Hanukkah, that was very nice."

"But it's not enough." Ford said firmly and covered his eyes one-handed in ignominy. "Ma, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Stanford, you've got nothing…"

"I should have done something." Ford punctuated. "I should have stepped in, told Pa he was taking it too far. He's my brother, my twin. He always stood up for me, always. And how did I repay him? With a knife in his back. I don't care what he did or didn't do. It wasn't fair. And I let it happen. And I'm so, so sorry."

"Hey hey, sweetheart, it's okay." Ma alleviated while Ford pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head like a wet dog. "Stanford, that wasn't your fault. I… I've got a good idea of what you're feeling. I'm his mother. I should have done something."

"You yelled at Pa." Ford recalled fondly. The second Stanley was gone, Ma put Shermie's son down and rounded hard on Pa, giving him Hell which he gladly threw back at her. Ford's parents fought plenty of times during his childhood, but that one in particular made every wall shake and Ford didn't even have the strength to go pick up his baby nephew and soothe him. "You did something that day. I didn't do anything."

"Your mind was too full to let your body do anything." Ma excused. "Listen to me, you can't go through your whole life with Regret as your closest companion, it's not a good relationship to be in. You're sorry for what happened, right?"

"Yes."

"Then he'll forgive you. I'm not sure what you think of your brother now, but I can assure you that he's a good man. He might be upset, but he'll always love you, even if you both forget to say it."

Ford smiled timidly. "Thanks, Ma. I've missed you."

"I miss you, too, darling."

"Do… Do you have his phone number?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. He called me two days ago, said he's in New Orleans. Do you want it?"

"Please." And Ford stood at his desk and snagged a sticky note and a pen, ignoring that he was ambivalent about talking to his twin again.

Ford decided to call Stanley later. First he had to find Mabel's brother, then try to make things right with his own brother.

So after eggs and toast, Ford gave Mabel her dry clothes back and let her borrow his brown jacket with fur-hood, a blue scarf, and a pair of mittens Ford had accidentally shrunk in the wash and kept just in case. She looked like a round ball, thankfully the jacket being so big it covered her exposed legs, smiling up at him as he bumbled in his black t-shirt, black tights, tan slacks, baby-blue long-sleeve button-up, brown sweater-vest, boots, trenchcoat, and black beanie and six-fingered gloves.

"I'm afraid we'll have to walk into town. It shouldn't take too long." Ford elucidated as he led the way outside.

"That's okay! I love the snow!" Mabel squealed. "Can we build a snowman and an igloo and have a snowball fight and make snow angels and lick a pole and…"

"Maybe when we get home." Ford blissfully, checking that Mabel's cheeks would stay warm thanks to the scarf. "Let's try to keep you warm for as long as possible."

And so the two bundled-up humans walked hand-in-hand down the snow-covered dirt road for town. The snow fall had stopped, leaving the air frozen and still, but the snow was at least eight-inches thick. Luckily the snow wasn't like powdered sugar or snow that one sunk right through it; it was more solid and packing, perfect for snowballs and snowmen, and the best for walking.

"I'm sorry I don't have a car," Ford apologized again. "I'm afraid Steve wanted to make sure I understood who's boss."

Mabel's eyes sparkled. "Who's Steve?"

"A tree-giant who lives in the woods." Ford said casually. "Well at least I think he is. I haven't actually seen him, but I saw his hand when he grabbed my car and dragged it off, and his hand looked like it was made of bark."

"I've seen huge footprints!" Mabel remembered. "Do you think that's him?!"

Ford smiled down at her, impressed, and said, "I'm sure of it."

"We should say hello to him."

"Oh, I tried. He threw a deer at me."

Mabel wasn't sure if she should laugh at that or not. "Have you seen any other weird stuff?" She asked, giving Ford a genuine look that told him it was okay to spill to her.

The young scientist wasn't quite sure what this girl knew and didn't know, but she was interested and smart, so he grinned and started gushing about what he has found in the two years he has been studying Gravity Falls.

If Dipper was here, he would be taking notes, hyperventilating, freaking out, asking questions, and maybe even throwing up. The mysterious Author of the Journals was talking about his research so openly and excitedly. But Mabel was here, not Dipper. And she listened, occasionally asked questions, but found she really enjoyed seeing her new friend get excited over fairies and unicorns and sirens.

When Ford first mentioned the unicorns, Mabel made an unnatural high-pitch yelp that Ford could only hope to interpret as a positive response. "They're UNICORNS here?!"

Ford smiled down at the girl. Oh, right. Girls like unicorns. "You like unicorns?"

"I LOVE unicorns, I am literally obsessed with unicorns!" Mabel happily shared. "My first word was unicorn, I even once made my own unicorn by taping a traffic cone to a horse's head!"

Ford laughed, shaking his head with a big smile, and he let go of her hand and pulled something out of his trenchcoat. "Then, here. I'd like to show you something."

Mabel stared at the fresh, clean, recently made Journal 1. Dipper and Mabel had guessed there were two other journals, but they were long gone. She knew Dipper really wanted to find the other two. She was quickly distracted from her discovery, however, when Ford opened the journal and showed her his entry for the unicorns, talking about the Enchanted Forest, how to uncover the home of the unicorns, uses for unicorn hair, blood, and tears, and advice for if you ever met one.

"Wow! Your drawings are really pretty! You should probably color them, though." Mabel said, pointing at the old man with an exposed belly through his hooded robe and the sparkling unicorn.

Ford snorted that the girl was much more impressed with his sketches than his research and smiled. "Uh, thank you, Mabel."

"Can we go here now? Can I pet a real unicorn?!" Mabel begged, getting excited.

"Maybe another day." Ford said, closing the journal and pocketing it. "We really should try to find your brother. Plus, unicorns are very frustrating and aren't the nicest of creatures."

"Oh, okay."

A few more minutes of walking and they were at the beginning of the dirt road and at the boards of the town. Mabel couldn't help but marvel at a couple of things.

One: Gravity Falls was beautiful in the winter, with snowy rooftops and decorated pinetrees. The only parts that were less appealing was the gray snow piled on the side of the roads due to the roads being cleared and salted, but that was okay.

Two: everything looked the same, but different. Thirty-four years into the past, and Gravity Falls was different. Dusk-2-Dawn was alive and well. Some buildings haven't been built yet. Some buildings Mabel had never seen before existed, probably either drastically renovated or completely destroyed. Some businesses, like the barber shop and the Crushed Skull, were still here, but many businesses were different. Mabel saw a candy store she had never seen before, but swore it would be a frozen-yogurt place by 2013.

The people were also the same, but different. Maybe people Mabel knew weren't born yet, like Candy and Grenda and Pacifica and Soos and Wendy and all of her friends her age, but she swore she saw a few red-haired men exiting the doughnut shop and piling into a truck for carrying wood, a young lady with cat earrings was running into a diner with her uniform on, and many people Mabel could guess were family members of people she knew walked about here and there. It was mostly quiet in town today, but people were trying to resume their normal routines now that the snow was better controlled.

"Okay, Mabel, do you recognize anyone?" Ford asked gently.

Mabel was grateful she didn't have to lie. She shook her head.

"Okay, and you're not from here, correct?"

Mabel nodded.

"That's okay. Let's keep walking."

Ford happily held her hand as they walked down the sidewalk. Mabel looked around curiously, happy to re-discover Gravity Falls again. A big muscular guy in a light-green polo was sipping coffee in an office-supply store as he did some homework. A young teenage Sandra Jimenez walked past them, smelling like strawberries and acne cream.

Mabel was distracted as Ford stopped them at the local thrift store. "What do we need here?"

"How would you feel about some jeans? Maybe your own coat, too? Your legs need to get warm." Ford offered politely, holding the door open for her.

Mabel grinned and cheered, taking his hand and running inside. Shopping in the 70s! Mabel instantly grabbed a pair of bell-bottom jeans and a normal-ish pair to try on. Ford attempted to give her privacy and judge for herself if they were good, keeping himself entertained by looking at sweaters for himself, but she always skipped to him and spun and asked for his opinion, no matter how helpless he was with fashion.

When Mabel returned with the two jeans in her arms, her eyes sparkled at a large cream-yellow sweater with music notes on the shoulders. Ford waited for her to ask for it, but all she did was bite her lip. He smiled and grabbed it, saying it would be a shame to wear the same sweater every day. After all, she's not a cartoon character.

That made Mabel gasp happily and she beamed at seeing some sweaters in Ford's arms. "Are you gonna try them on!?"

Ford shrugged. "I know my size."

Mabel shook her head. "You still have to model, smart guy! C'mon!" And she grasped his wrist and dragged him to the fitting room, then plopped herself in a chair and begged him to show her everything he tried on.

Ford didn't remember having so much fun shopping for clothes. It was a practical and necessary task, but never partially enjoyable, but Mabel made it so. She gave Ford a large pile of sweaters and pants to try on, most of which actually being her style. She was observant. Mabel also tried on more clothes, saying two models are better than one, and while they only walked out with two sweaters for each of them, and a coat and two pairs of jeans for Mabel, they were both laughing as they left the thrift store.

Ford winced and smacked his forehead when he checked his watch and saw the time. "Moses, we shouldn't have gotten so distracted. We still have to find your brother."

Mabel kicked at the salty pavement and mumbled, "He probably moved on."

Ford bit his lip and looked down at her. Just last night she inspired him; Now it was time to return the favor. "Nonsense, my dear. We'll find him." And he grasped her hand and they walked down the street.

The young scientist did some quick thinking, and after realizing his empty stomach and thinking Mabel would definitely be hungry by now, he lit up and smiled down at her. "Why don't we pop into Greasy's diner and ask the staff if they've seen your brother? They know everybody. Surely someone there can help us."

Mabel was starting to feel more and more guilty about this pointless search. But if Mabel told Ford the truth now he might get mad that she wasted his time. He could be hunting monsters or exploring and having fun right now, but instead he was helping her. So maybe it was best to pretend to try, that way when they fail Ford can at least tell himself they tried. "Okay."

As they walked for the end of town, Mabel saw the sheriff's station. She wondered if Blubs and Durland were too young to be working there yet.

A horrifying thought then crossed her mind. What if Ford decided to turn her into the police?

Ideally, that is what you do when you find a missing child, because if a parent is missing a child they would tell the police, so the cops can help. But if Ford turned her in, not only would she never see him again, but no one would be waiting for Mabel to be found, so what would happen to her? Would they put her in jail? Would they put her in an orphanage where she does chores and sings about having a hard life?

Without realizing it, in her panicked state, she grabbed Ford's hand with both of her's and walked close to him, practically clinging to his arm.

Ford noticed this and looked down at the little girl to find her so frightened. He followed her line of vision and noticed the sheriff's office. Ford narrowed his eyes and looked ahead. He had thought of contacting the police. After all, that's what you should do when you find a missing child. But if Mabel didn't have any parents, then she would be turned into the system, and Ford would be damned if one of those horror stories were going to happen to Mabel. Her reaction was confirmation enough that his decision to leave the authorities out of this was a good one. He debated on addressing her fear, but then they were at the diner. Maybe later.

Mabel was greeted with that same sweet scented air and loud noises that the Greasy's in her time gave her. In fact, except for the people and some missing stains, Greasy's the nearly identical. She even grinned at seeing Lady Susan, except her eye wasn't lazy! This was the closest she felt to home (outside of hanging out with Ford, of course, cuz he's fun and nice). She winced at seeing a young Toby Determined alone at the booth with papers scattered all over his table, but smiled at seeing a younger Blubs in a coat, chatting with the cook at the bar as he ate some pancakes and sipped coffee. Mabel even gasped happily at seeing the old Ma and Pa from Dusk-2-Dawn sharing a slice of pie at a booth. Aw!

Ford led Mabel to a booth and were at once greeted by Susan, who gave them menus and said, "Hey there, stranger! Who's this cutie? Your niece?" She asked.

Ford smiled back at her. "Good morning, Susan. No, I'm just helping a young lady find her brother again. You wouldn't happen to know of anyone looking for a lost sister, would you?"

"Oh no, lost sibling, huh?" Susan said sympathetically. "No, sorry, haven't heard anything like that. But I'll ask the staff. What's his name and what does he look like?"

"His name is Dipper." Mabel answered. "He looks like me with short hair, bags under his eyes except for cute cheeks, and he's sweaty and likes to wear a hat with a star… no, a pinetree on it."

"Dipper, cute and sweaty, got it." Susan quoted back with a wink. A real wink. "What's your name, cutie?"

"Mabel."

"Well, Mabel, if he came in here looking for you, you'll know by the time you have your drinks, okay? Speaking of…"

"Coffee, please."

"Orange juice."

"You got it, cuties." And Susan walked off.

Ford frowned as he looked at the menu. If he was going to help Mabel, he needed more information out of her, but if he poked and prodded too much she might shut down. Then again, they were much closer now than when he first found her at his doorstep, so he calculated a better conversation ahead of him. "How old is your brother, anyways?" Ford asked, looking over his menu.

"Twelve. Same as me." Mabel answered. "We're twins, but I was born first, so I'm cooler."

Ford chuckled and smiled up at her. "I used to say the same thing. I also have a twin brother."

Mabel gasped. "No!"

"Yes."

"What's he like?" Mabel asked. "Are you two the kind of twins that are opposite or the same?"

"The opposite." Ford answered. Finally, someone who might understand where he's coming from. "He was always getting into trouble when we were kids. Well, okay, we both got into trouble, but he had a better knack for it than I did." He said, making Mabel giggle. "He's very tough, likes to box and fight, but he's smarter than people give him credit for. Smarter than I used to give him credit for." He corrected, moving his eyes to the window and watching two boys play in the snow, running around and throwing snowballs.

"Dipper's also really smart. He's a lot like you." Mabel smiled to herself, enjoying being clever and deciding to see how far she can push it, if only to make herself smile. "He would really like you, actually. You're super mysterious and smart and funny and draw the best pictures. Dipper's art isn't nearly as good as mine, but he's nice, too."

Ford hummed with peace at the thought of the boy. "Well, I can't wait to meet him."

"Do you think I'll ever meet your brother?"

Ford shrugged. "Maybe." Thank God Susan returned with their drinks and asked if they needed another minute to look over the menu, because the distressed scientist wasn't sure what would happen.

After two stacks of pancakes and a happy conversation about whether or not tye-dye was cool or not (which of course it's cool, but Ford was a little tired of seeing it wherever he went), Susan brought the bill and some not-so-good news. "Sorry, cuties, no Dippers or boys looking for sisters have been through here. I even checked with Joe's Coffee, my cousin Otto's Repair Shop, and I called the grocery store. Nothing."

Mabel knew this was going to happen, but she still couldn't help but feel disappointed. "Oh. Okay."

"Thank you, Susan." Ford replied, taking the book with the bill, and when they were left alone, he said to Mabel, "Don't worry, we'll figure something out. I'm sure Dipper is looking for you."

Mabel hugged her knees and curled into the back corner of her book. Her tummy was suddenly very squirmy and she wished she hadn't eaten so many pancakes. "No. I don't think he is." She muttered into her knees.

Ford looked at her woefully and racked his brain. He knew better than anyone that brothers can be stupid. Twins can be stupid. Heck, people can be stupid. If they did get separated or lost just after a fight, then it was possible that Dipper was mad and was attempting to move on in the worst possible way. Ford had no room to talk about abandoning family, so he couldn't rightfully be mad at Mabel's twin; he just hoped this Dipper boy would come to his senses quicker than Ford did.

"What's…" Mabel mumbled into her jean-covered knees, tears building over his beautiful brown eyes. "What's gonna happen to me?" After a whole day it was finally starting to pile on Mabel was dire the situation was. She was stuck in a time period where she didn't belong with no family anywhere. "Wh-Wh-Where am I gonna go? I don't have any family or home anymore. D-D-Do I g-g-gotta go live in a box or…"

"No," Ford said softly and leaned forward over the slightly-sticky table. "No, of course not. That's never going to happen."

"B-B-But…"

"Listen, darling, dry your eyes, come on." Ford spoke softly, handing her a napkin, and she took it. "I know things are… difficult for you right now, but no matter what you'll always h- be safe with me. I'll never let you out on the streets. And I swear, you won't go to the system. I've heard enough horror stories to know better than to send you there. I… I can't guarantee I live the best life for kids, I don't even have a second bed right now, but in the meantime, we can make it work. Until we find your family, you can stay with me, okay?"

Mabel looked up at him, holding her damp napkin tightly. "Y-Y-You mean it? You're really okay with me staying with you a little longer?"

"Mabel, I'm more than okay with you staying indefinitely." Ford chuckled warmly. "But let's see what happens before we make any certain plans."

Mabel smiles and wiped an eye with her napkin. "O-Okay. Thank you."

"You're very welcome." Ford tucked some money into the book and stood. "Well, if you're going to extend your stay, then we definitely need to go to the grocery store. Do you have any requests?"

"Um…" Mabel took his hand as they walked out of the diner, and then hesitantly asked, "C-C-Can we get some yarn and needles? So I can make you a sweater?"

Ford beamed down at her. "Of course! Can you do sweater-vests, too, or do you have a strict-sleeve policy?"

The conman plopped in his stiff chair with the cup of ramen warm in his hand. He blew on it before taking a much-needed bite, sighed, and turned the TV on to Cash Wheel.

It was a cruddy little apartment in New Orleans, but it sat right by the ocean and gave him some nice salty air, it was right next to a little cafe that sold the best beignets, and he had more money now than he ever had at once in the last six years. Which wasn't saying much, but it was something. And it was a hell of a lot nicer than the Colombian prison he just escaped from.

Stanley swore under his breath when the phone rang, hoping it wasn't Rico to tell him about his newest delivery job, but who else would call him? He stood, his cheap chair creaking beneath him, and plucked the phone from the wall. "Y'ello."

"St-Stanley?"

Stan dropped the phone and dove for it, the communication device acting like a bar of soap for a few moments, before Stan regained his grip on the phone and reality. "Uh… hey."

How many times had he called and bailed the second he heard his brother's voice? How many times did he daydream of their first conversation since everything went wrong? Stan knew he had a million things to say, but now that it was happening, the best thing he had to say was "hey"?

"Hi." The conman swore he heard his brother chuckle nervously. "H-H-How are you?"

Stan shrugged and began to subconsciously play with the telephone's cord. "M'okay. You?"

"I'm good. I'm good. It's been snowing here."

"Really? How much?"

"Almost twelve inches. We'll definitely have twelve inches by morning. It's supposed to snow again tonight."

"Oh. Cool."

Silence fell before them. There were so many things Stan wanted to say but no way to say them easily. Maybe if he just opened his fat mouth and finally said what he wanted to say, even if it was wrong and Ford hated him and never wanted to talk to him again, then maybe the whole in his heart could start to heal.

So he took a deep breath and let out, "I'm sorry, Sixer."

He had no idea why, but Stan paused there. He wished he hadn't, because all he was met with was silence. So he grit his teeth and made himself finish.

"I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry." Stan went on. "It was an accident, I swear! I would never break your project on purpose, but that's just the dumb-ass idiot I am! I break shit, that's what I do, and I'm sorry! I'm sorry I ruined your life, heck I'm sorry I was even born, I-…"

"Stanley," Ford's voice sounded so sad that Stan felt obligated to press his lips tightly shut. "I forgive you."

Stan choked on air and coughed. "Wait what?" He never, in all his scenarios, considered it would be this easy.

"I'm the one who should be sorry. I should have done something, I should have stood up…"

"Hey hey, don't do that."

"I mean it, Stanley, I'm sorry, and I'm sorry it took me so long to apologize…"

"It's okay, Knucklehead." Stan chuckled. "It's okay. I'm not mad. I mean… yeah, I was for a while, but… I think I'm too tired to be mad."

"I think I understand." Ford replied. "I miss you too much to be mad anymore…"

"Stop it…"

"I just want my brother back…"

"Damn it, Sixer." Stan growled and hoped that Ford could detect the laughter in his throat. "Quit being such a sap."

Stan waited for a response, but all he could pick up was the faint sounds of a voice. Was that a young girl? Ford must have pulled the phone away from himself, because his voice was now much fainter and quieter, but Stan swore he heard him suggesting macaroni and cheese for dinner, in which someone squealed thank you, and then Ford returned. "Sorry, anyway…"

"Who was that?" Stan asked.

"Nobody."

"Ford,"

"Just… Just Mabel."

Stan stood up straight. "Ma didn't say you got married."

"I didn't…"

"Not that it matters, Sixer, I'm not gonna care, but…"

"Oh no, Stanley…"

"You moved to Oregon, right?"

"Right, Gravity Falls in Roadkill County, but getting back to what I was saying…"

"I'll see you in three days."

"STANL-"

Stan hung up. He couldn't keep the huge, joyous smile off his face as he swiped his old duffel bag from under his bed and packed all he could fit. Most of his things were still in his car, which he cleverly hid in the bayou before trying his luck in Columbia, so it didn't take long for him to empty the shitty apartment, sneak out, and sprint into the swamp for his car.

Jorge and Rico can go fuck each other in the back of a beat-up Sedan. Stan was going to go meet his niece.