About half an hour had passed since the incident at The Juke Joint. In that time, a wave of heavy rain showers began to roll in over the Glass Shard Beach area. At the Joint, there were police to investigate the situation and paramedics to assist Thistle Downe. The showers made things difficult for everyone, but it didn't stop a local news team from setting up and preparing a shot of the scene either.
A female reporter in a raincoat stood in front of a news camera with a microphone in hand; a view of the destroyed glass window of the restaurant in the background.
"Yes, Steve, we're currently live on the scene where, half an hour ago, a man at The Juke Joint Bar and Grill threw another man through a window, absolutely decimating the glass and severely injuring the man," the reporter went on to explain, speaking to the people at the news station over the com. She moved over to the ambulance where Thistle was about to be loaded inside on his cot, the camera following her. "The man's name is Thistle Downe, a local musician who plays regularly at the Juke Joint, and he's with us right now." She looked over at Thistle. "Mr. Downe, what exactly happened here? Can you describe the incident at all?"
"You see, I was just playing my normal Wednesday afternoon gig here at the Joint," Thistle began to explain into the microphone he was handed. "All's going well at first until this male spirit comes up beside my stage and starts making fun of me! I'm like 'Who does this dude think he is?' and I look over at him. It takes me a minute, but then I recognize him. And he ain't no ordinary dude. He's a dead man walking, lady."
"What do you mean?" the reporter asked, raising an eyebrow.
"The dude that did this to me is a formerly dead man by the name Stanley Pines," Thistle revealed. "An old local who got banned from the state several years ago for selling his own cheap products to the good spirits of our town. The same Stan who supposedly died in a car crash in 1984."
"You're saying that Stan Pines actually isn't dead and has made his way back to New Jersey?" the reporter asked.
"That's about right," Thistle nodded as he laid in his cot. "And I ain't done anything to him. He just got mad and punched me off my stage, then threw me through that window. Spirits these days just ain't getting kinder. But what else can you expect from one that just came back from the dead?"
The reporter backed away from Thistle as paramedics began to load him into the back of the ambulance. She glanced back at the camera. "Well, it appears we have a claim that Stan Pines may actually be alive and at large here in Glass Shard Beach. I'll throw this back to you, Steve. I'm Kate Baron, Jersey News."
On the news channel itself, there was a cut back to the news station where a man sat at the news desk with a paper in hand.
"Thanks, Kate. We just got some more information on Stan Pines for those who are unaware of him," the newscaster said as he glanced down at his paper. "He was most infamous in New Jersey for his Sham Total product as part of his StanCo Enterprises. The Sham Total reportedly used a cheap blue dye that worsened the stains of the items it was advertised to clean. Since then, he's been outlawed from the state of New Jersey. He has been reported to keep up these various scams inside and outside of the states under various fake identities, going to prison multiple times until his reported death in a flaming car crash in 1984."
Old civilian footage of Stan running and being chased by mobs from his various businesses under his multiple identities began to play onscreen of the news broadcast.
"Stan Pines grew up in Glass Shard Beach alongside his mother, father, and two brothers," the newscaster read over the playing footage. "Most recently, his father, Filbrick Pines, former owner of Pines Pawns pawn shop, passed away February 16th last year. We don't have confirmation if Thistle's assault was, in fact, Stan Pines as he says, but we have local Glass Shard police investigating the situation. We'll have continuous updates as the week goes. With this news of Thistle, however, we encourage everyone to watch themselves in public. And if you believe you've spotted Stan Pines, we urge you to contact authorities immediately."
As news spread through town about Stan's potential presence in New Jersey, police had already begun searching around town for him. Using security camera footage from the Juke Joint provided by the manager, police were able to examine the incident itself and get a rough idea of Stan's appearance. They were also able to see Ford working alongside him and took note of him as an accomplice. The short restaurant host had informed them of this already, even adding that they appeared similar in appearance, as though they were twins.
With this info, the patrol cars searched through the rain for two similar-appearing men with outfits reminiscent of the ones the men wore in the footage. The rain made the search fairly difficult, but no matter what, they were still determined to locate the man responsible for the Juke Joint incident.
As a patrol car passed an alley, a man wearing a trench coat stepped out from the alley and walked over to the edge of a wall to view the passing car. As he looked on, the cruiser soon drove out of sight and around the corner of the street. The man then turned back into the alley and made a gesture for someone else, letting them know to come along. The two then took to the sidewalks in the open rain, keeping their heads down in their dirty trench coats and matching hats.
The rain must have driven most people back inside and off the streets. There were very few pedestrians and hardly anyone driving either. Prior to the first bit of drizzle, the streets were populated by Jersey folk and tourists, but now, the streets were practically barren.
Still, Stan and Ford trudged through. To conceal themselves from the police, they had snagged a pair of dirtied and ripped-up trench coats and hats from a dumpster in one of the alleys they had walked through prior. With what happened back at the Joint, the two had managed to become targets to the police and anyone who had already watched the news. Despite the target, they stayed in New Jersey for a reason. So as long as they could hide from police detection, they would continue on their way toward their next destination so they could figure out the truth.
They turned the corner of a street and walked through an open metal gate. Soon enough, they found themselves trudging the muddy grass of Glass Shard's open cemetery. With brief directions from a worker, they walked toward one of the corners of the graveyard. Eventually, they came to a stop as they found what they were searching for.
"There it is, Stanley," Ford said as the two laid their eyes on the gravestone of their father, Filbrick Pines.
Hearing that their father had died wasn't quite a pleasant revelation, but it was one that wasn't quite confirmed to them. Not until they saw it themselves. It was still an idea that distressed them just thinking about it, and one that they somewhat believed despite not knowing for sure yet. But upon the sight of the grave, they immediately grew lightheaded and their legs felt as though they were on the brink of giving up.
Yet still, they were strong enough to keep standing.
The revelation hit hard nonetheless. Their dad was now a figure that they now had no choice but to only remember. The father that they had spent their entire childhoods and most of their teen years with, was now dead. A death that happened over a year ago and they were only just finding out about it.
Ford started to break, with tears beginning to run down from his eyes despite his efforts to try to push them back. He took off his glasses and wiped them off with his sleeve as he sniffled and cried. He didn't want to have a complete meltdown and was able to reserve himself, but the moment was still too much for him to not shed at least a bit of emotion.
"I can't say I can't believe he's gone," Ford said through his tears and sniffles. "But I can't believe we were never there to give one last, proper farewell. Even if he would've hated to see us again, it would've given more closure to everything that we've gone through." He wiped a few more tears from his face and put his glasses back on. "Well, more closure than this, that is."
Ford then crouched down and got on his knee to examine the grave more personally. In his head, he kept reading the name 'Filbrick Pines' on the tombstone, which was the thing that hurt the most.
The name.
His father's name.
His name.
Reading it gave him such a pain in his chest that one might confuse for a heart attack. The name just hurt him to read and acknowledge despite knowing very well that it was all true.
He took a deep breath, holding it for a moment, before shakily exhaling. "I haven't seen you in so, so long, dad," he said as he placed his hand on the tombstone as if he was reaching out to touch his father. "We've had our fair share of difficult interactions growing up. Hell, we had one the very last time we spoke with one another..."
"C'mon, dad! You have to know where he is!"
"I already told ya, Stanford. He's not under my watch anymore. And he hasn't been for years. I thought you knew this well by now."
A young, sleep-deprived, and scruffy-looking Stanford paced around the room as far as his house phone cord would let him.
The past few days have been rough, considering he had just learned a terrible truth in regard to who he once considered his muse and his friend. He was in a state of extreme paranoia and felt like he was being watched. On top of that, he lost a real friend during the whole ordeal.
Now he had almost nobody left to turn to in a situation where he needed someone to trust most.
Almost nobody.
"That's not true, dad. I know you know where he is," Ford told him. "You're his father too!"
"And you're his brother!" Filbrick shouted back. "If you don't know, then what makes you think that I know? And besides, he's no son of mine anymore. He hasn't been for years. You know this."
"Oh my God…" Ford sighed exasperatedly as he leaned his forehead against a wall in frustration.
"Why do you even wanna know where that knucklehead is so badly?" Filbrick asked. "Have you forgotten what he did to you? He ruined your future, Stanford! I don't care that you're living it up in the woods of Oregon! If it weren't for that so-called brother of yours, you could've been living in millions!"
"I wanted to come here, dad! This was my choice!" Ford exclaimed. "It may not be millions, but I'm doing more than fine enough!"
"Then why in God's name do you want anything to do with him?"
"Because I NEED him!" Ford shouted angrily. "I need him, dad! You may not want anything to do with him anymore, but this isn't about you. This is about me asking where he is. Now can you please be a good, caring father for once and just tell me?"
Ford sat in silence for a few seconds, waiting for a response from his dad. The lack of any sort of response was beginning to make him believe he had hung up.
"Hello?" Ford asked, breaking the silence.
"Tell me, Stanford," Filbrick finally responded. "Why do you think I know where that clown is after all these years?"
Ford was getting annoyed with having to explain this to him. "Because I know you do, dad! You say you disowned him but you still keep tabs on him. You're his dad! As much as you don't want to admit it, you've been keeping up with every movement he makes. You may not care about him or want anything to do with him anymore, but you've still been watching! And so I know you know where he is and where he's been! I just need you to tell me!"
Ford waited for a response but was left in another brief silence.
"Dad, PLEASE!" Ford pleaded as he physically shook his phone.
He placed it up to his ear again and awaited a response, but still received nothing. He sighed disappointedly.
"Well, thanks for everything, dad..."
"New Mexico."
Ford halted from putting the phone back on the base as he heard his father's voice come from the speaker. He quickly put it back up to his ear. "What? What was that?"
"005 Dead End Flats, New Mexico," Filbrick said. "He tried to use the credit card he stole from us before he left. It doesn't work anymore, but I still get notified whenever and from wherever he tries to squeeze some money out of it for his troubles."
"New Mexico…?" Ford asked as he wondered what his brother was possibly doing there.
"He moves around a lot, so if you're trying to contact him, you better do it fast," Filbrick said nonchalantly.
"Yeah... I got it," Ford told him. "Um...thanks, dad. Really."
He waited for a second for any sort of reply such as a 'You're welcome' or 'No problem', but received nothing.
"Uh... say hello to mom for me."
"Just be careful, Stanford."
Ford then heard an immediate click followed by the dial tone, signifying that Filbrick had hung up. It was a very sudden hang-up and one that he didn't expect from him. His father was never an easy man to talk to, but this had been one of the toughest phone calls he had ever had with him.
But still, he managed to come through when he needed him.
"Oh, God," Ford said as he placed his hands over his face tearfully. "How I wish that wasn't the last exchange we'd ever make with one another..." He placed his hand back on the tombstone and stroked it, leaving a slightly damp trail behind on the stone due to his tear-moistened hands. "You were a tough man, dad. One who was hard to impress. If only you saw what I've accomplished since then- what I've done; where I've been; what I've seen. The money may not have impressed you, but I know the sights would have." He removed his hand from the tombstone and just stared at it. "Cold you were, but heartless? Not entirely. In the end, you were still a father. And you won't be forgotten. Farewell, dad."
He wiped a final tear from his eye as he stood up from the ground. He adjusted his glasses and looked down at the grave silently. While he was still grieving, he had come to terms with his dad's passing. There was nothing he could do anymore, so all he could do was just accept it and, in time, move on.
From the inside of his trench coat, the baby Snacken crept out and crawled down his legs. It leaped off his foot and landed on the dirt of the grave. It examined the surface before crawling onto the tombstone itself, climbing it until it perched itself on the left corner of it. It looked down sadly, almost as if it understood the circumstances in place.
Ford looked at it and wanted to smile, but he was far too dejected to do so. He simply just acknowledged its presence before leaning over to pick it back up with his hand. As it latched itself back to his wrist, he sighed sadly.
"Is there anything you want to say, Stanley?" Ford asked his brother as he shut his eyes grievingly.
There was a brief silence as he waited for a reply, which prompted him to turn over to him. He then noticed that Stan was just staring at their dad's grave. Unlike him, he wasn't shedding the same amount of emotion. His face and eyes appeared dry, but his general expression displayed a similar state of grief and sorrow.
"What should I say?" Stan asked Ford, glancing over at him.
"I don't know. Something respectful?" Ford asked, somewhat thrown off by this question. "Something nice?"
"Dad's never been the nicest guy to me."
"Well, I don't know, Stan," Ford shrugged. "I can't speak for you. These are your words to give to him."
"I just don't know, Ford," Stan admitted. "Things between the old man and I have always been too complicated for proper words. He's been tough on both of us growing up, but he was always especially tougher on me."
Stood in the center of the room, a young Stan stood dripping wet in the center of his living room, sobbing as he held out a single tooth in the palm of his hand. As he sobbed, his mouth hung open, allowing for a clear view of the new bloody gap located around the middle of the front of his top set of teeth. He held it out to his two parents, who sat together on the couch right in front of him.
"So what if that Crampelter kid knocked out a tooth?" Filbrick Pines asked as he looked on at his son's tooth in his hand without pity. He rose from his seat and shook his fist aggressively. "You shoulda hit him back and knocked out five of his!"
Stan had found himself running through the heavy rain only minutes prior after yet another encounter with Crampelter and his friends. As always, they showed up with the sole intention of souring his day. The encounter ended with Crampelter chucking a soccer ball violently at the side of his face, knicking the side of his glasses, and knocking one of his baby teeth in. Outnumbered, hurt, and upset, he decided to just run back home. Along the way, the baby tooth that was knocked fell out of place, leaving him with a gap in his upper teeth. Freaked out and upset over the whole incident, he was hoping his parents might be able to help him.
However, his dad clearly wasn't being too helpful.
"But it hurt!" Stan tried to reason through his tears.
"Ah, you little wuss," Filbrick said disappointedly as he sat back down and carelessly grabbed a newspaper from the coffee table.
"Filbrick!" Ma exclaimed angrily, narrowing her eyes at him for his response.
But that already did it for Stan. He clenched the tooth in his hand as he ran off to his room, whimpering tearfully in pain and sadness.
Ma then stood up from her seat and looked down at her husband angrily. "For Pete's sake, Filly! He's only nine!" She then walked away from him to go after Stan.
"He's going to be ten soon!" Filbrick reminded her as she walked off. "No son of mine that old would ever let himself get bullied or even run from a fight!"
As she left his sight, he sighed, knowing she was going to go try and cheer him up as she always did. He was tired of his kids being unable to fend for themselves out in the world. Too many times they'd return home crying and asking for help and defense from the outside, which he knew they could easily overcome if they just stuck their neck out and fought back rather than give up. He didn't want the kids to go and hurt themselves, but rather know what to do if they did get hurt.
He pondered ways he may be able to accomplish this until he flipped his newspaper to a certain page. In the center, there read an advertisement for Summer Boxing Lessons.
"Hmm…" Filbrick wondered aloud as he stroked his chin. "Boxing, eh?"
"Hey dad," Ford greeted as he walked into the living room. "Is Stanley okay? I thought I heard him cryi- OUCH!"
As he walked into the room, Ford accidentally stubbed his bare toe against the corner of a wall as he walked into the living room. His eyes bulged as the pain shot right up his foot. He fell back on the floor and grabbed his foot with his hands, rocking back and forth as he started to bawl as well.
Filbrick looked over at Ford as he sobbed over his hurt toe. He then looked back at the advertisement in the paper and his interest began to grow stronger.
"Hmmm…"
"The last time I saw dad was when he kicked me out," Stan said, stuffing his hands into his pockets sadly. "That was the extent of our relationship. You still had contact with him for the rest of high school, college, and all those years you spent in Gravity Falls before I came back into your life. But he completely dropped all connection with me, which must've been fine for him considering you were his favorite, Stanford Filbrick Pines."
"Oh c'mon, Stanley. Don't you think-"
"Nah, I'm not trying to start an argument on favoritism or anything," Stan cut off. "I'm just making a point. Dad's never thought highly of me when he's always had you to look at and be proud of for not being a screw-up. He actually saw something in you."
"But Dad saw something in you too."
"Yeah, right..." Stan said sarcastically.
"Look, I know for you it's likely hard to believe, but he really did," Ford tried to assure him.
Stan paid him a daring glare. "Like what?"
"You remember boxing class, don't you?"
"Oh, yeah, sure. Because dad had so much hope for me as a boxer..." Stan rolled his eyes.
"That's not it, Stan. You may not remember, but I do. Dad signed us both up for boxing to toughen us up. You knew how terrible I was at it, and so did he. But you... you had something going. And when you fought back and won... he truly saw something in you."
"STANLEY PINES IS DOWN!"
In the middle of the fighting ring, a teenage Stan found himself lying on the ground on his forearms. His face was bruised and somewhat bloodied from hits he had taken from his opponent across the ring. He was weakening, struggling not to collapse right in the ring and lose the match.
"WILL HE GET UP OR IS HE DONE?!"
His hearing had become faded and somewhat muffled as he came closer and closer to passing out. His opponent laughed as he watched him crawl onto the ground.
Stan looked to the side through the ropes of the ring and into the crowd. Through the many people chanting and cheering, he spotted Ford in his boxing trunks with several bruises on his face and upper body as he held a frozen steak over his right eye, watching the match and cheering Stan on.
"YOU GOT THIS, STAN!"
Right beside him sat their mother, who had a look of concern and near disgust as she struggled to keep her eyes on the brutal match. Suddenly, she forced herself to face forward with her eyes narrowed intently.
"COME ON, STANLEY! KICK HIS ASS FOR MOMMA!"
In the row right in front of them, his eyes darted to a pretty face in the audience. His girlfriend, Carla McCorkle sat with a serious look on her face as she watched him.
"GET UP, BABY! GET UP!"
Finally, looking back at the row his mom and brother sat upon, he spotted his dad at the end of the row. Unlike Ford, Ma, and Carla, he watched quietly, sitting straight and examining every move made. Looking as stern as he usually did, the man didn't do much but keep his eyes intently upon the match.
Despite the fact that his dad wore his usual sunglasses, Stan could tell that he was making eye contact with him at that moment. And with that, came a new feeling of strength and adrenaline that went through his body. Not from the shouting and cheering of his family and girlfriend, but from the eye contact he made with his dad.
"1... 2...!" the referee shouted as he slammed his hand on the ground of the ring.
At that moment, Stan pushed himself off the ground, placing one of his hands on the referee's face and pushing him aside as he rose back to his feet.
"AND STANLEY PINES HAS GOTTEN BACK UP!"
Some in the crowd went crazy and cheered at this announcement, including Ford, Ma, and Carla. Filbrick still remained neutral and kept his eyes focused on the match.
Stan looked back at his opponent and clenched his teeth angrily, showing his mouthguard. The opponent's premature smile washed away and a look of seriousness came in. He lifted his clenched boxing gloves up defensively as he made an offensive move toward Stan.
As he approached him, he threw two quick punches at him, which were both instantly blocked by Stan. Following right after, Stan threw his own fist right over his opponent's retreating hands and landed a direct hit on the side of his face. The opponent spun around as he fell backward, violently hitting the ground of the ring. This punch seemed to have knocked him out cold, as he made no movements after falling. Still, the referee went to his side and started counting, but the crowd was already going wild.
"...8... 9...10!" the referee counted before getting off the ground. "K.O.!"
"THAT'S A KNOCKOUT! STANLEY PINES HAS WON THE MATCH!"
Stan stood in the middle of the ring, still trying to catch his breath before even beginning to process the fact that he had won. He was then handed a shiny gold trophy by a man in a suit, which he looked at in confusion. Soon enough, members of the crowd came rushing into the ring to celebrate the victory. He suddenly had people he had never seen before in his life patting him on the back and grabbing his hand to shake. It was all happening so soon and it was all too much to process at once for him.
Suddenly, he felt an arm wrap around his neck and pull him close. He looked over and saw that it was his Ford.
"HAHA! YOU DID IT, STAN!" Ford shouted victoriously. "YOU REALLY DID IT!"
Stan remained confused as he was still processing all the things happening at that moment. "I did? W-what did I do?"
"What else? You won the match, bro!" Ford told him.
"I... I did?" Stan asked, his eyes lighting up.
Suddenly, his arm was tugged away and he was pulled into a sudden hug. He looked up to see his mother, who was tearing up. "There's Ma's little boxer!"
"Haha, hi Mom!" Stan chuckled as he hugged her back. He then pulled away and showed her his trophy. "Look at me! I'm a winner!"
"Oh sweetie, you were always a winner before," Ma told him, caressing his face. "Tonight, everyone just got to finally see that."
Stan was used to his mother's support at that point. She gave it to him for almost everything he did anyway. Still, he wasn't any less grateful for getting it.
"Thanks, mom," he said with a warm smile.
He suddenly pulled away again and found his lips making contact with someone else's. As he opened his eyes, he saw Carla, who smiled upon pulling away from him.
"Hey there, champ," she simply told him as she fluttered her eyes flirtatiously at him.
Stan was already lost in a variety of various emotions, but Carla's kiss just continued to add to them. His face flushed red as he gave her a confident smile.
"Hey there, Hotpants," Stan replied as he tried to look as smooth as he could be despite how punched up his face was.
A shadow then came over the two, to which they looked up and saw Filbrick, who stared sternly upon the two. Carla glanced back and forth between him and Stan and awkwardly stepped away to give the two some space, giving Stan a 'We'll talk later' look. Stan acknowledged this before his eyes quickly went back to his dad.
"Let me guess - I shouldn't have let myself take as many hits as I did?" Stan assumed his father's thoughts. "Look, Pa, I gave it all I had, and I still won in the end. So can I just take my victory without you nitpicking like you always-"
"That was a good move you made at the end, kid," Filbrick nonchalantly cut off.
Stan stared up at him for a moment, caught off guard by his words. "What?"
"You did good. Impressed a lotta people," Filbrick continued. "Including me."
Stan's eyes bulged at that statement, and couldn't help but smile warmly at him, something he didn't do very often at all.
"R-really?" Stan asked.
Before Filbrick answered, he noticed a photographer right beside them approaching to take pictures.
"C'mon. Let's get a picture," Filbrick told Stan as he stood behind him and placed both his hands on his son's shoulders proudly. He faced forward at the camera aimed at them but kept his normal stern look rather than smiling.
Stan looked up at him, however, and smiled brightly. He faced forward and raised his trophy in his hands happily as the camera flashed, snapping a picture of the Pines boxing son and his father.
"I can see how easy it is to remember him for all the bad times, but to say there have been no good times…" Ford told Stan.
Stan stood staring at the grave, remembering his dad. To an extent, Ford was correct. There had been good moments with his dad. They may have been the rarer times of his early life, but to say they were non-existent was untrue. Perhaps the bad overshadowed the good, which allowed him to much more easily paint a negative image of him, but the good times definitely painted him as a somewhat decent father. Or at the very least, they proved that, at times, he truly did care for him.
"Maybe it was my fault for always looking for the easy way," Stan shrugged. "Maybe if I had done things differently- ya know, actually been a more responsible and better kid- then maybe things could've been different. But, I guess all I can say is that I appreciate what you've done for me. You did help me toughen up. Because of that, I was ready to fend for myself in times when I really needed to. And having been to prison in three different countries, that's a lot of times."
Stan walked a little closer to the grave and kneeled down in the same way Ford did before.
"If you were still around, I would've liked to try and impress you once more. I don't know if I would've, but it would've been a nice challenge. I remember how much it used to motivate me anyway. I just hope that if you can somehow see me now... that you can see what I've done. Because it's all because of you. As much as I hate to admit it, in some twisted way, it's true. And I guess all I have to say is…"
He placed his hand on the tombstone and shut his eyes for a second as he felt them become misty. He opened them again and looked upon the tomb once more.
"...thanks, dad."
He lifted his hand from the tombstone and stood back up, wiping a lone tear from his eye that had dripped down the side of his cheek. Ford walked up to him and placed his hand on his shoulder.
"That was nice," Ford told him with a slight smile. "I'm sure he would've liked that."
"Yeah, maybe," Stan sighed. He looked back at the grave, rereading the year 2015 as the year of his death. "Still can't believe it was just last year. We had all this time these past few years to go back once... and we never did."
"It bites, doesn't it?" Ford agreed. "Here we are, showing up over a year late to our own father's funeral. God…"
Ford's eyes glanced around the other nearby tombs in the graveyard and noticed a nearby one. The name on the tomb read 'Stanley Pines', not too far to the right of Filbrick's grave.
"Stan, look..." Ford told him as he walked over to it. Stan promptly followed behind him and looked over at the grave that he pointed at. "It looks like they had put a grave up for you as well."
Stan read the grave with his name on it, marking the date of his birth and the date of his faked death. The final engraving read 'A loving brother, son, and free spirit'.
The last bit hit him a bit, remembering that's what his mother called him. A free spirit. His family (or at the very least, his mother) had thought of and cared about him enough to put up a grave for him back in Glass Shard following his faked death. While he wanted to think more about this, a realization then popped into Stan's head.
"Hold on, they put a grave for me here back in 1984. Dad was buried here just last year…"
"Yeah. So?"
"That means mom might still be around..." Stan realized. "If they had put up a tomb for me here so many years ago and put up another one for dad in the same place just last year, that means she could still be here!"
"What? Stan, dad died in February last year!" Ford reminded him. "Mom could've gone anywhere after dad died! Hell, maybe they weren't even living here when he died. They could've just come back to bury him here. Point is- we don't know if she's still living in Glass Shard!"
Stan turned his head around and soon spotted a nearby man working at the cemetery. He then turned his head back to Ford.
"Well, let's find out then," Stan said before turning to the worker and running toward him. "HEY, YOU!"
The worker looked up at the twins as they ran over to him. Stan stopped directly in front of him.
"Hey you," Stan said again as he tried to catch his breath a bit. "You work here, right?"
"Yes, sir," he nodded as Ford caught up. "Been working here for a loooong time."
"How well do you know this place then?" Stan asked. "Do you know about these people? Their families and stuff?"
"A fair bit," the worker nodded. "I usually host funeral receptions here, so I end up knowing most families pretty well."
"What about the Pines?"
"Which ones?" the worker asked, knowing multiple different Pines families.
"Uhhhh... Filbrick Pines," Stan told him. "Died in February last year. Father of Stanley Pines, the Sham Total guy that nobody likes."
"Ah, those Pines," the worker nodded upon realization. "Well, lots of people knew Filbrick. He was the owner of Pines Pawns, the local pawnshop. A tough man he was. Never changed his mind on a price he settled on."
"That's him, alright," Stan remembered. "Whatever happened to his wife, Caryn Pines?"
"The old phone psychic?" he asked. "Not too sure. After Filbrick died, the pawn shop was closed and so did her business. But they never took down the signs and stuff, so I assume the building's just used as a residence and nothing more now."
"Really?" Stan asked. "So she's not dead?"
"I wouldn't know," the worker said. "I did see her when I hosted the funeral for Filbrick last year. Haven't heard from her since. Maybe she's around, maybe she ain't."
Stan took a minute to process this info, thinking about how while their father may have been gone, there was still a chance to see their mother again. And back at their old childhood house of all places.
"Well, it was good talking to you, but I must be on my way," the worker said as he prepared to walk away. However, he stopped and looked back at the two. "Also, speaking of Stanley, recent news has it that he may not be dead after all. Crazy stuff, huh?"
Stan's heart sank for a second. "Uhh... yeah... real crazy."
"Ain't it?" the man said with a chuckle. "Well, I'll see you fellas later."
The worker walked off, leaving Stan and Ford on their own. Once he was out of sight, Ford gave a sigh of relief.
"That could've been bad," he said.
"Yeah," Stan agreed. He then started walking off toward one of the cemetery's exit gates.
"Where are we going now?" Ford asked as he caught up with Stan.
"We missed our chance to see dad again when he was alive," Stan told him. "Let's not do the same for mom."
With targets on their heads, walking through the streets of New Jersey was still a task the Stan twins had to take on carefully. Any second they weren't watching their surroundings could be the second that the police spotted and arrested them. Under normal circumstances, Stan would be as reckless as ever to try to accomplish his objective, even if he knew he'd get caught. But this was something he cared too much about to take any risks. The goal itself was already a huge risk on its own.
Stan just wanted to see his mom again. While he had mixed feelings about his father, he had always loved his mom and he knew she had always loved him. When his dad was hard on him, she was there to balance it all out. She loved Ford a lot too, but due to their dad's preference for Ford, she often found herself coming to Stan's aid more than she ever had to come to Ford's. Mostly because Ford wasn't berated by their father as much rather than because she preferred Stan. She was just naturally there for Stan more, which seemed to strengthen their connection with one another. Not that Stan never had his own tough times with Ma too, but there were always far more good things to say about her than there were ever bad.
But nonetheless, Stan was paranoid about what to expect from Ma when they saw her again. What she'd say to them when they knocked on her door, which they now stood right across the street from.
Pines Pawns: Jewelry, Watches, No Refunds
The two stared right at the building. It had almost everything they remembered about it- the same sign with the chess piece beside it; Ma's Phone Psychic sign at the top left window. Both have been shut down since Filbrick's death, but the signs were never taken down just like the cemetery worker said. Considering it was probably only Ma who lived there now, it was understandable that she probably couldn't handle the job herself.
The building itself looked worn. The old bright red color of the bricks seemed to have been washed out. But it was still a silhouette of their old home. They were finally there, but there was only so much time they could spend staring at it.
"So how in the hell are we gonna do this?" Ford asked Stan anxiously, not taking his eyes off the building.
"I don't know," Stan admitted, eyes fixated on the building too.
"Let's put ourselves in her shoes," Ford said as he finally turned to him. "We can't both just walk up to that door and say hello. That's like seeing a ghost and a half."
"Right, although, you gotta remember- my name's all over the local news right now," Stan reminded.
"Well, let's just pretend or hope she hasn't seen it yet," Ford added. "But honestly, there is no easy way of doing this."
"What if we just break it down for her?" Stan suggested.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, neither she nor dad have heard from you in so long that they can't even say themselves if you're dead or alive," Stan explained. "So what if you just introduce yourself first and take most of the initial heat because your situation is easy to explain?"
"Disappearing for over thirty years, not returning any calls, or showing up to either my brother's funeral or my dad's is easy to explain?" Ford asked, narrowing his eyes at Stan.
"It's easier to explain than how her dead son is suddenly alive again!" Stan countered.
"Alright, fine," Ford accepted. "So I go explain my situation first. What are you going to do?"
"Well, I'm going to hide first, but when she's calm... or calmer... then you cue me in and I'll greet her myself and then we'll figure out that headache together," Stan suggested.
"And are you sure you want to do this?"
"We're standing right in front of our old childhood house after decades, Ford. Are we really gonna walk away now?" Stan asked.
"Alright," Ford said with a nervous sigh. "Go hide, and... I'll get this over with."
Stan nodded as he walked across the street and got into a hiding place, taking cover directly in the alley between the house and the Hot Belgian Waffles restaurant. Ford then crossed the street himself and stood right in front of the door. He glanced over to the alley where Stan stood and saw him give a thumbs up as he stood peeking his eyes out to watch.
Ford turned his head back toward the front door, beginning to shiver nervously in fear. He has learned how to control his fear in the past, but confronting his mother again after several years of not seeing her was a whole separate level of fear that he wasn't sure anyone could overcome.
Nonetheless, he gulped nervously once before clenching his fist and promptly knocking on the door. He took one deep breath as he now waited for an answer. Each second that passed felt like an eternity. From the alley, Stan watched intently and felt almost the same amount of dread and nervousness as Ford, yet he wasn't even at the door himself.
About a minute had passed since Ford knocked, and he was beginning to contemplate knocking again or just settling on the idea that nobody was there. He knew Stan wouldn't approve of the latter, so he raised his fist to knock on the door again.
However, just as he did so, he heard the locks turning inside, which frightened him. Soon enough, the doorknob started to turn just as his stomach did. He was beginning to feel nauseous, but he knew he had to suppress the feeling. Throwing up on his own mother was not the best way to greet her again after thirty years. He tried to fight back his nervous feelings and clenched his teeth as hard as he could inside his mouth.
The door opened, and Ford's eyes bulged in surprise. At the doorway stood a tall, bulky old man with thin gray hair, a Hawaiian shirt, glasses, and familiar eyes. Those eyes scanned Ford from top to bottom, but one glance at his face was all he needed to know who he was.
"Stanford…" he said in his rough, deep voice as he stared at him in shock.
"Sherman…" Ford replied as he stared right back at his older brother.
"Oh no," Stan said to himself as he noticed Sherman standing at the door.
"What are you doing here?" Sherman asked Ford, raising an eyebrow.
"I... uh…"
Ford was trying his hardest to figure out how to speak to Sherman. He hadn't spoken to him in an even longer time than their parents but was ultimately thrown off by the fact that he was so casual about his presence.
"I was... uh... in the area…"
"For what?" Sherman asked. "What makes you have to come all the way from the west?"
"It's complicated," Ford said as he began scratching the back of his neck.
"It sure must be," Sherman said as he narrowed his eyes at him. "Especially considering you haven't bothered keeping in touch for nearly seventeen years…"
"Seventeen years?" Ford asked. "Has it only been that long?"
"Well, considering that's when my grandkids were born," Sherman revealed to him. "Don't you remember?"
"Uh… well, you see…" Ford stammered, putting his hand on his face nervously.
"HOLY HELL, STANFORD!" Sherman shouted as he looked at Ford's hand. "YOU HAVE SIX FINGERS!"
"Yeah, so?" Ford questioned as he held his hand out. "You knew that. It's how I was born."
"I thought you got them surgically removed?!" Sherman asked. "At least, that's what you told me at the hospital!"
"I did?" Ford asked, not having a clue what he was talking about. The question seemed to prompt a curious look in Sherman's eyes. "I mean... I did!"
"Have you been lying to me, Stanford?" Sherman asked, slowly walking up to Ford as his anger grew slightly.
"He hasn't," Stan's voice came from behind, grabbing Sherman and Ford's attention. "Ford's too bad at it."
"Wha…?" Sherman mouthed, eyes going wide upon laying them on Stan. He glanced back and forth between him and Ford, spotting the similarities and familiarities.
The face.
The hair.
The voice.
"Who in the hell are you…?" Sherman asked, backing up in fear and disbelief at what he was seeing.
"Hey, Shermie," Stan waved.
Sherman's mouth hung agape after hearing that nickname again. He couldn't believe it. He almost didn't want to believe it. "St-Stanley?"
Stan nodded at him, confirming his thoughts. He continued to stare at Stan in utter shock at his presence. It took a few seconds, but he was soon able to process things. He then proceeded to run up to him and wrap his arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace as he began to sob.
"Please tell me," Sherman said through his tears. "Is it really you?"
Caught off guard by the hug, Stan was almost unsure how to respond. He lightly wrapped his arms around Sherman in response. "Yeah, bro. It's me. Lil' Stan."
"I can't believe it," Sherman said as he hugged tighter. "I'm so glad to see you again."
Stan was shocked by this reaction, which was the complete opposite of what he expected from his older brother. He gave in, however, and hugged him back tightly. "I'm glad to see you too."
Sherman pulled away from Stan and wiped a tear from his eye. Then, his look of joy shifted into one of rage as he suddenly grabbed Stan by the throat and violently pinned him against the brick wall of the building, which surprised Ford.
"NOW I CAN KILL YOU FOR REAL!"
"Alright," Stan sputtered through his choking. "Now, THIS is the response I was expecting."
"HOW ARE YOU ALIVE?!" Sherman asked, enraged and confused. "WHY ARE YOU HERE?!"
Ford ran over to Sherman and placed his hands on his left shoulder, trying to pull him away from Stan. "Sherman, calm down! Please!"
Sherman proceeded to let go of Stan as Ford asked, trying to fight back his feelings of rage and confused anger. Stan dropped to the ground and placed his hand on his throat as he began coughing and breathing heavily for air. Ford grabbed his arm and helped pick him up from the ground.
"You okay?" Ford asked.
"Yeah, sure," Stan assured him as he dusted his knees off, glancing back at Sherman. "It's just some brotherly love, ain't it?"
"Oh yeah!" Sherman nodded as he angrily turned back toward the two. "Let me show some 'brotherly love' to my two siblings who I ain't seen or spoken to in over a decade! One of them who I thought was dead, and the other, who hasn't bothered to keep in touch since my grandkids were born! Yeah, let me smother you two with hugs and kisses instead of asking questions! Who needs questions anyway?! My little brothers are home! I should just be celebrating! WELL, HALLE-FRICKIN-LUJAH!"
Stan and Ford glanced at one another nervously before looking back at Sherman, not knowing how to respond.
"So, I guess you haven't missed us then?" Stan asked innocently.
Sherman stared at the two, maintaining his look of pure anger and sternness. However, as he continued to stare, he couldn't help himself anymore. He broke into tears and walked up to the two, putting one arm around each of them as he bawled.
"Of course, I missed you knuckleheads," Sherman said through his tears. "I missed you two so much."
Stan and Ford also began to tear up a bit as they wrapped their own arms around him and one another. The fact was it was the first hug the three had shared together since they were kids.
Sherman wasn't around often after he moved out of the house, but the family still stayed in touch with him. However, he often struggled financially due to careless habits when he went on his own, which put him at constant odds with Filbrick. Eventually, Sherman came home to his parents with a child of his own and told them he couldn't afford to take care of him because of how much he was struggling. Of course, Ma and Filbrick were willing to help, but Filbrick was devastated that his son was irresponsible enough to have a child at such a young age that he couldn't even take care of on his own. The result was a fight that led to Filbrick distancing Sherman from the family.
He still kept in touch with his two brothers though, but after Stan got kicked out of the house a few months later, Ford was the only sibling able to keep in touch, whereas Stan was on his own, traveling from state to state trying to build his StanCo brand. But once Ford got sucked into the portal, Stan was the one Sherman had been contacting instead. Not wanting to risk his true identity leaking, he had tried to avoid contact with Sherman despite the fact he was his brother.
However, they made inevitable and unavoidable contact with one another when he decided to be present for the birth of his grandkids, Dipper and Mabel Pines. There, Sherman wanted to have a proper talk and catch up, but Stan excused himself after meeting his great niece and nephew, once again trying to keep ties to his family bare so they wouldn't know the truth of what really happened to Ford while he was taking on his identity.
Of course, Sherman still didn't know this. While Ford is finally out of the portal, Stan knew it may have finally been a good time to catch up and explain things to Sherman without the risk of him having to call the cops for accidentally trapping his brother in another dimension.
But explanations can wait a little longer. They needed to address the reason they were there first.
The hug ended and the three brothers pulled away from one another, each wiping away their tears from their reunion. Sherman then cleared his throat.
"So...are you two gonna make me ask?" he began.
"We'd love to clear the air already, Shermie, but we gotta get Ma in on things first," Stan told him.
Sherman stared at Stan with an unsure expression. "Mom?"
"Yeah, mom," Stan nodded. "We... uh... we already know about dad."
"Yeah, before coming here, we visited the cemetery," Ford added. "We may have been late on saying our goodbyes, but we still said them earlier."
"But we heard that Ma might've been around still," Stan said. He then caught Sherman's expression and noticed something was up. "She's... she's still alive... right?"
"Uh... yeah…" Sherman confirmed as he started to rub the back of his neck. "She's inside."
"Oh, thank God," Stan stated, letting out a breath that he had been holding onto for a while. "Well... I guess we should break the news to her too then."
"I... uh... I don't know if that's a good idea," Sherman told him.
"Why not?" Stan asked, frowning again.
"I'm not sure I know how to explain..."
"Don't worry about explaining things to her, Shermie," Stan cut off as he began walking toward the door of the house. "Let's just break it to her first and we'll explain everything together after."
"Stan, wait!" Sherman said, reaching his hand out to stop Stan as he walked toward the door. "I'm telling you, it's probably not a good idea for… for..."
"For what?" Stan cut off again, starting to get annoyed. "For us to see our mother again?"
"No... that's not…"
"You know how long I've waited to see that woman again, Shermie?" Stan asked, anger starting to rush in as he pushed Sherman away and began walking inside the house. "Damn you if you forbid me from even being able to lay eyes on her! It may have been decades since we last spoke, but she's still my mother and I'm still her son!"
As Stan marched inside the house, Ford followed behind nervously. Sherman sighed, placing his hand on his face as he dreaded what was to come next.
"Oh boy…"
Stan carefully peeked his head inside each room he passed by for his mother. He was so lost in his search for Ma that he completely disregarded the fact that he was searching through the house that he grew up in. Rooms he recognized and remembered, but didn't pay attention to because they didn't have his mom inside.
It can wait. It can all wait. I need to see mom first.
Suddenly, he peeked inside a room, ready to disregard it as well until he spotted something. He backed up and peeked his head further into the room, spotting the back of a woman sitting in a rocking chair in the corner of a room that was mostly empty besides a bed. Her chair faced outside toward a window, allowing her a clear view of the backyard. He saw her grey hair done in a partial beehive, while the rest of it hung loose- the same way his mother did it.
"Mom…" Stan quietly said to himself as he looked at her, eyes quickly tearing up.
He began slowly walking over to her from behind her chair. At the same moment, Ford had caught up and peeked his head inside the room cautiously. He quickly noticed Stan making his way over to their mother, eyes bulging.
"Stan!" he exclaimed in a whisper. "What are you doing?! You're going to freak her out!"
"I can't wait anymore, Sixer," Stan told him tearfully. "A man needs to see his mom again."
Ford was beginning to panic that Stan was already going in for the reveal, awaiting a terrified reaction from Ma. He wanted to stop him, but he was already far too close to her and knew it was too late.
Stan took a step in front of Ma and kneeled down to come face-to-face with her while she sat in her rocking chair. He found her sleeping in the chair; her face frail, but peaceful.
"Ma?" he asked in a gentle voice, yet loud enough to be able to wake her up. He placed his hand upon hers as it lay on the armrest of the chair. "Ma, wake up."
At that moment, she slowly opened her eyes as she awakened from her sleep. Her eyes then fell upon Stan's face. And as he looked into her eyes, he could see the same woman who raised him.
"Oh, God…" Stan said tearfully, overcome with the emotion of looking into the eyes of his own mother again after so long. He leaned over and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her. He began to weep as he placed his head on her shoulder. "I never thought I'd ever see this day again. I've missed you so much, Ma. You have no idea." He continued to sob for a moment as his emotions overwhelmed him.
However, after a brief moment, he started to get the feeling that something wasn't right. He was hugging his mother and she wasn't saying a word. So he pulled himself away from the hug and looked her in the eyes again.
She just stared at him. Not with a smile. Not with a frown. Pure neutrality was all he saw on her face. But she was awake. And the movement in her eyes meant that she was definitely alive.
"Ma?" Stan asked with concern. "Ma, are you okay?"
Still no response. She just continued to stare at him blankly, occasionally blinking as normal. But the rest of her behavior didn't really imply 'normal'.
Ford proceeded to walk up beside Stan, crouching down next to him so he could see what was wrong with their mother. "What's wrong?"
"She ain't saying anything," Stan told him, starting to get weirded out. He waved his hand back and forth in front of her face, but she remained unresponsive to it. Still, she continued to stare and blink at the two of them.
"You think you might've surprised her so hard you sent her into shock?" Ford asked, raising an eyebrow.
"She didn't even seem surprised in the first place," Stan said. He started snapping his fingers in front of his mom's face. "Ma? Are you alright?"
"Has she gone deaf or blind?" Ford suggested, which awakened a bit of concern in him.
"She's neither," Sherman intervened as he entered the room and approached the two.
"Then what's wrong with her, Shermie?" Stan asked him as he continued trying to get her attention.
"She don't remember you, Stanley," Sherman told him bluntly.
Stan slowly turned his head back up toward Sherman in disbelief. "The hell are you talking about? She has to remember me."
"She don't," Sherman shook his head. "She don't remember you. She don't remember Stanford. Hell, she don't even remember me." He glanced over to the side and sighed. "She don't remember anything anymore."
"Wha...?" Stan questioned, glancing around in confusion.
"She has dementia..." Ford realized, glancing over at Sherman with growing concern in his eyes. "Just like Grandma had when she..."
Stan's eyes then immediately grew afraid as he processed Ford's words. His concerned eyes then turned toward Sherman. "Shermie... does Ma have…?"
Sherman's eyes narrowed sadly at Stan as he nodded his head in confirmation.
Stan's heart dropped at the realization as he glanced back at Ma and started shaking in mixed feelings of disbelief and horror. "No... that can't… that can't be!"
"I'm sorry, Stanley," Sherman said as he placed his hand on his shoulder. "I've been here taking care of her since she got diagnosed six years ago. She's still alive, but her condition's just gotten worse each year. Now she don't got a clue where she is, who she is, and... us. Her whole mind's just... gone. Erased."
"That's complete crap…" Stan tearfully refused to believe as he slapped his brother's hand off of his shoulder. He jumped over to Ma on his knees and placed his hands on both of her shoulders. "MA! IT'S ME, STANLEY!"
"Stan…" Sherman said as he hovered over him, preparing to pull him back.
"DON'T YOU REMEMBER?!"
"Stan, please…" Ford said tearfully as he also started to realize Stan's denial was about to get out of hand.
"IT'S ME, MA!" Stan screamed through his tears, continuing to disregard his brothers as he shook Ma even more violently. "IT'S YOUR LITTLE FREE SPIRIT!"
"STAN, THAT'S ENOUGH!" Sherman shouted once he realized how hard Stan was shaking her, pulling him right away from her.
"OH GOD, SHERMIE, NOT MA!" Stan cried as he wrapped his arms tight around Sherman, having completely broken apart. "NOT MA, SHERMIE!"
Sherman hugged him back, patting him on the back as he let him vent out his emotions, knowing how hard this was for him. While Ford wasn't nearly as hysterical as Stan was, he was still incredibly saddened by the situation. He controlled his crying, simply allowing his tears to stream as he crouched down beside his two brothers on the ground and hugged them.
And throughout everything, Caryn Pines just continued to stare silently and nothing more.
About an hour had passed, and since then, everyone had calmed down and sat together at a table on the back patio, each holding a can of Pitt Cola. There in the back, they could see the sky slowly start to gain an orange hue, signaling the start of the setting New Jersey sun after the prior rain clouds had cleared. In the time since they had sat down, they had finally explained their situations, including where they had been and gone, the truth of the hospital meeting, and generally what's been happening in their lives.
"So yeah... we were supposed to land further north, but we washed up on the beach beside the main town," Ford explained to Sherman.
"Then, for some reason, he went and decided to bring along some weird baby octopus similar to the one that nearly killed us a few hours before," Stan added, as he stared down at his soda dejectedly.
Suddenly, the Snacken crawled from Ford's back onto his shoulder, presenting itself in view for Sherman to see. As soon as he laid eyes on it, he jumped in his seat. However, he then chuckled as he got a closer look at it.
"Ah, that little fella's actually sorta cute. In a sick, twisted sorta way," Sherman admitted. "But wow, I can't believe that weird stuff like that actually exists out there. I still don't have words for all that dimension stuff either."
"Yeah, Dipper and Mabel love it," Stan pitched in as he sorrowly played around with his can.
"They do?" Sherman asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise.
"Yup," Stan nodded as he gestured over to Ford. "Pretty sure Dipper wants to become just like this nerd one of these days."
"Hey, it wouldn't hurt to have another one in the family," Ford joked as he held the Snacken in his hands. "But seriously, Sherman... Dipper and Mabel are great. They're incredibly smart, funny, and overall joys to be around. You should be very proud of your son for raising such amazing kids."
"Yeah," Stan nodded. "Those two... they got a lot going for them. They're something else."
"I'm happy to hear that," Sherman said. "Of course, I'd love to see them again. It has been many years, but... you know... with what's going on with Ma and all..."
"Completely understandable," Ford nodded. "Take care of her as much as she needs."
"Yeah, stay here and take good care of her," Stan agreed. "When she eventually... uh... you know…"
"Yes, although, I promise I'll visit when I'm no longer needed over here," Sherman answered glumly, knowing the circumstances behind that promise.
"Good to know," Stan said, his eyes becoming somewhat misty again as he thought about the same circumstances.
Sherman sighed before smiling at the two. "Ya know, regardless of everything that's happened and all the crap you two have been through, I'm honestly glad that you two are still around. It feels good to know that despite everything, there's still close family around. The Pines bros altogether again. Who woulda thought about it?"
Stan and Ford smiled back at Sherman, sharing the same feelings and thoughts as him. However, at that same moment, the two heard police sirens in the distance. They turned their heads toward the direction it was coming from and were soon reminded of another stake in place.
Ford sighed as he stood up from his seat. "Unfortunately, we can't stick around much longer. Stan and I are still being searched for by the local police."
"And with the people knowing the old Shammy guy's back from the dead, ya really can't expect what they'd wanna do to him," Stan added as he stood up as well. "This ain't Gravity Falls. People here ain't used to weird stuff like that."
"Precisely," Ford nodded. "With that said... it looks like we should be getting on our way."
"Not yet," Stan said as he began walking toward the house.
"Where are you going?" Ford asked, raising an eyebrow as he followed Stan.
"I gotta say goodbye to mom."
Stan walked back into his mother's room and spotted her still rocking in her chair in the corner. He sighed, trying to mentally tell himself to keep his emotions in check and not to break down the same way he did before. He already accepted her condition. He just needed to say his goodbye.
Especially considering it would most likely be his final one.
He walked up quietly next to her and kneeled down in front of her. His eyes narrowed sadly as he looked into her eyes again. He started to tear up, which was something he just couldn't prevent. However, he wasn't going to allow it to get much worse.
He reached his hand over and placed it on top of hers again. He wanted to say something to her, but it was hard figuring out what to say when he knew she had no idea what anything was anymore. Such a contrast from the last time he saw her.
"You…" Stan said as he tried to fight back his desire to start sobbing. "...have no idea how much you've shaped me into the man I am today..."
"Stanley?" Caryn asked as she entered her son's bedroom. She heard a faint sobbing as she glanced over at the bottom bunk of the twins' bunk bed. There Stan lay crouched up on his side, staring at the tooth he had clenched up in his hands. "Stanley, sweetie?"
Stan sniffled as he heard Caryn walk over to him. "Ma, why does dad hate me?"
"Aw, sweetie. He doesn't hate ya," Caryn said as she sat right beside him on his bed. "Believe me, I've been married to the man for almost twenty years. He just has a real funny way of showing love."
"Love?" Stan questioned as he turned to her. "He called me a wuss! He's always hard on me!"
"He's hard on ya because he loves ya," she told him. "And he wants the best from ya. Trust me, kiddo. Your pa wouldn't do what he does now if he didn't care." She placed his hand under his chin and lifted it up so he would look at her. "Ya just gotta put your head up and stick your neck through it."
Stan then sat up straight up in his bed right beside his mother. "But what if I can't be as strong as he wants me to be?"
"Oh, sweetie," she said as she wrapped her arms around him lovingly. "I know you can be. Both you and your brother are a lot stronger than you both realize. Your father is just tryna bring that strength outta ya so the two of ya can show it to the rest of the world."
"Does he really gotta call me a wuss though?" Stan asked, still hung up over that name.
"Well, you ain't a wuss, are ya?" she asked back.
"No! Of course not!" he denied, pulling away from her and standing up on his bed. "I'm Stan Pines! When I grow up, I'm gonna be rich, famous, and get all the girls! And I'm gonna get so jacked that even Crampelter won't wanna mess with me! I ain't a wuss!"
Caryn started laughing before hugging him tight against her side. "No, you ain't. I just know you and your brother are both gonna grow to be kings of New Jersey one day."
"But I get the bigger crown, right?" Stan asked cheekily.
"No, you both get the same-sized crown, and you're gonna share it and love it," she told him a bit more strictly. To her, it was important not to inflate one son's ego more than the other.
"Fiiine," Stan reluctantly agreed. He sniffled again as he smiled and hugged her back. "But thanks, Ma. Just don't tell Ford about this, please."
Caryn chuckled and smiled comfortingly as she held onto her son tightly. "Anything for you, my little free spirit."
THUMP!
"OUCH!" Ford's voice cried from the living room. Soon after, the two heard Ford begin bawling himself.
Caryn sighed as she pulled away from her hug with Stan and stood up from their bed. "Looks like I gotta rescue your brother now," she said as she looked back down and noticed how Stan was still dripping wet from the rain outside. "While I do that, why don't you go and shower before you start to reek, huh? Can't have you smelling like garbage when dinner's ready."
"Haha, alright!" Stan chuckled, prompting Ma to smile once more at him before leaving the room.
Stan jumped out of bed and began making his way to the door himself so he could go to the bathroom. However, he noticed himself in their room's full-body mirror as he passed. He quickly backed up to it and took a good, long look at himself. He took off his glasses and examined them, noticing how the side had been knicked from when Crampelter hit him with the soccer ball.
He was about to call his mom back and let her know that he was going to need new glasses, but he then looked at himself back in the mirror and got a look at himself without them. He couldn't see as well without them, but his view wasn't blurry enough to where he couldn't see at all. He put the glasses back on and could see better, but he had suddenly found a preference in that brief look at himself without them.
At that moment, his mind was decided. He promptly took his glasses off and pitched them into the nearby trash bin without hesitation. The impact of the throw smashed the lens at the same time, so there was no going back at that point unless he decided to get a new pair.
But he was settled and content with his appearance. He looked at himself in the mirror again and smiled, as well as gladly embracing the gap in the middle of his teeth that he had received.
"Oh... Ma…" Stan said as he tearfully placed his arms around Caryn one last time, giving her one final embrace. He made it as gentle and as loving as he possibly could, knowing this would likely be the last moment the two would share together.
Ford and Sherman promptly stepped into the room, walking in on Stan having his moment with Ma. As they entered, he pulled away from her and got up, wiping the tears from his face as he stepped aside and allowed Ford to step past him to share his own final moment with Ma.
Ford crouched down on his knee, sniffling as he began getting emotional himself. Like Stan, he didn't know how to properly go about the situation in terms of final words. The emotional tension in comparison to learning of Filbrick's death was different. Mostly because he was trying to talk to someone whom he loved that was still suffering, while his dad was already at rest. This made it harder for him to come up with the words to say, so instead, he just hugged her gently. After a brief embrace, he pulled away and placed his six-fingered hand on top of hers, squeezing it.
"Goodbye, Ma," he said shakily as he dried his eyes with his sleeve so he can see her face clearly once more.
Having been through the pain of being forgotten by Ma for long enough already and watching her mind slowly devolve in time, it was hard for Sherman to get as emotional as his brothers were anymore. Of course, her condition depressed him and it hurt him to see her continuously get worse, but he had already felt what his brothers were feeling. At that point, he could only empathize with them.
Ford got up from the floor and cleared his throat as he walked over to Stan and Sherman. "Let's get going," he said, still slightly choked up.
The three walked over to the doorway, with Sherman holding onto the doorknob, ready to close up the room so Ma could sleep on her own. However, Stan looked back at the door frame and began to analyze the interior of the room before realizing what it was.
"Hey Shermie, isn't this our old bedroom?"
"It is," Sherman nodded as he looked back inside the room as well.
Ford glanced back at the door frame himself and instantly recognized it with this being pointed out. He poked his head back inside and analyzed it too. Soon, he spotted the wall where the bunk he and Stan shared used to stand against. "Huh. It is our old room."
"Why do you keep mom in here?" Stan asked. "Why not her and dad's room?"
"Ma started to get a bit... antsy as her condition got worse," Sherman explained. "As it turns out, this is the only room I can keep her in where she is able to stay calm."
"Really?" Ford asked. "Our old room is the only room that keeps her sound?"
"Guess so," Sherman nodded. "It could mean something, but eh. I don't like to give the two of you that much credit," he said with a slight smile.
"Too bad," Stan said with a slight smile as he slapped him on the back in a brotherly manner. "Because it means something to me."
"I'm glad it does," Sherman said with a chuckle as he slowly closed the door to Caryn's room, leaving her alone so she could soon fall asleep again.
"Well, do you want me to at least give you two a lift to the airport or something?" Sherman offered as he walked the twins outside the house.
"No, no. No need," Ford kindly rejected. "Firstly, airfare across the country is expensive."
"Also, I'm kind of banned from airplanes," Stan casually added.
"Yes, I suppose that's also a factor," Ford nodded. "Additionally, the news about Stan could've spread to state news by now. And so we need to find our own ride back that doesn't involve public transportation." He then looked down the road and sighed. "Not sure how we're going to manage to do that, but surely we'll find a way."
Sherman's eyes bulged as he realized something. He then looked across the street and glanced at an old, dark blue El Diablo convertible parked on the curb.
"Well, maybe you don't have to worry about that after all," Sherman said as he pointed over to the car. "I'm not sure if you remember, but that's dad's car. Since he passed, I've been trying to keep it in good condition in my time outside of helping mom. I'm an old coot so I just take it to get washed, filled with gas, and generally checked every few months rather than doing it by myself."
"That's great," Ford said. "But again, you don't have to drive us in your car anywhere."
"It ain't my car, Stanford," Sherman said as he took a car key out of his pocket and held it out to him. "It's yours."
Ford's eyes widened in disbelief as he took the key from Sherman. "What?"
"Dad left it for you in his will," Sherman revealed.
"But... why?" Ford asked. "I haven't seen him in decades! He should've given it to you!"
"Dad and I never really got the chance to settle our own differences after all that happened decades ago, even when I came back to help him with Ma," Sherman explained. "I guess he'd rather leave it to you with the hope that you were still out there somewhere. Meanwhile, dad left his other home essentials for me, such as the vacuum cleaner, laundry machine, couch, and so forth."
"What did dad leave for me?" Stan intervened, feeling slightly uncomfortable asking.
Sherman frowned at Stan. "What would he leave for a dead man, Stanley?"
"Oh. Right," Stan sadly realized.
Sherman looked back at Ford, still noticing his very hesitant eyes. "It's yours, Ford. Don't worry. I already got my own car," he said as he gestured to another vehicle parked on the curb beside their house.
Ford still looked back and forth between the key in his hand and his older brother. He remained hesitant for a good minute before clenching the key acceptingly within his fist. He smiled at Sherman before walking up to him and giving him a hug.
"Thank you, Sherman," Ford said with a thankful chuckle. "I'm glad that even after all this time we've been apart that we were able to pick it off as we had just gone yesterday."
"We're family, Stanford," Sherman said with a smile. "We're also really old and so it's almost pointless to hold a grudge considering we've never wronged one another." He then placed his other arm around Stan and pulled him into the hug. "I'm just glad to see my little brothers again."
"Haha, you too, Shermie," Stan chuckled as he patted Sherman on the back.
"Now get a move on, you two," Sherman said, pulling away from them. "I ain't about to be responsible for paying your bail when you dummies get caught."
"Ha-ha," Stan laughed sarcastically as he made his way over to the passenger seat of Filbrick's old car and opened the door. "There's the old square I remember," he said, prompting a grin out of Sherman.
"We'll send our greetings from Gravity Falls when we get there!" Ford said as he opened up the driver's seat door.
"I'll be waiting," Sherman nodded. "Say hello to Dipper and Mabel for me. Tell them I miss them."
"Will do," Stan nodded back after rolling down the car window in his seat. "It was good catching up, Shermie. Take good care of Ma…" Stan stopped himself as he suddenly felt a bit choked up again. "Take good care of her... until the end."
"I promise…" Sherman said quietly with a melancholic nod as he started to wave at the two. "Happy birthday, boys."
"It isn't very happy," Stan said with a sniffle but smiled slightly as he waved back. "But thanks."
"Farewell, Sherman," Ford said as he waved at his older brother once more.
He then placed both hands on the wheel and drove the car out of the parking space on the curb before promptly driving down the street. Stan continued waving back at Sherman as they drove off until they eventually turned a corner, leaving his sight.
Sherman let out a sigh as the two left. Still, he stood in place on the sidewalk and looked across the street at their house and examined it. He shut his eyes and began looking back at all the fond memories he's had with the place. To think that this moment would likely be the last good memory he'd ever have there.
Stan and Ford continued driving through the empty streets of Glass Shard. Stan stared out the window silently as he indirectly watched the sunset over the ocean. He looked over at the beach itself and watched the waves crash into the sand. He stared emptily at the sight as he just thought of various things that his emotions brought him.
Ford then braked at a stoplight and proceeded to take the moment to take the Snacken off of his wrist, holding it out in the palm of his hand. He sighed as he looked on at it.
"You know, when I woke up this morning, I thought that this day was going to be much different than what it turned out to be," Ford said as he took the Snacken and placed it in the backseat, letting it sit there on its own. He then glanced over at Stan. "Days ago before reaching the Arctic, if you had told me we'd be starting our birthday stranded out in the middle of the ocean and then ending it driving our deceased dad's car back to Gravity Falls, I would've slapped you. But now I just feel like slapping myself again."
Getting no response from Stan as he continued staring out the window, he narrowed his eyes sadly at him.
"You're thinking of mom, aren't you?"
"What do you think?" Stan replied. "She's all I'm going to be thinking about for the next few days."
"Tell me about it," Ford said as he turned back toward the road ahead.
Stan began to feel a sense of familiarity with his current situation. He was sitting in a passenger seat of a car right beside Ford. The two were sharing somewhat of an emotional moment within the car and they were driving through what they could consider home.
It all came back to his dream earlier that morning- before Bill Cipher had paid him a mental visit. The only differences were that they weren't in Gravity Falls and that the current emotional moment was more somber than it was tender.
"Hey Sixer?" Stan prompted as he continued staring out into the distance.
"Yes, Stanley?"
"Remember when I had that nightmare last night?"
"What about it?"
"Well, there was this one part of it at first that was actually pretty good," Stan began. "Before the actual nightmare stuff started happening. You and I were there driving in a car, talking kinda like how we are now."
"Talking about what?" Ford asked, raising an eyebrow curiously.
"I don't remember," Stan lied. "But it was something nice. That whole part of the dream was nice. It was the kinda dream that you wish was actually real. The kind you wouldn't want to wake up from."
"Interesting," Ford said, considering the fact that this was a dream involving him.
"I guess," Stan shrugged. "But my point is that I wish we could've been living that part of the dream right now. And that everything that happened today was the nightmare that one of us would wake up from." Stan then turned over to Ford and looked at him. "Do you ever get that feeling? When you wish the good things you thought of were happening instead of the bad things that actually happened?"
"I think everybody gets that feeling, Stan," Ford said. "But despite how nice it might be to live your dreams instead of your nightmares, I feel that moments like our current one are inevitable and necessary for us as people. Imagine a person who has all their dreams come true and has nothing bad happen to occur in their lives. What would a nice moment mean to them then? Would it not just feel like a normal and regular thing rather than something special?"
"I don't know," Stan said, getting somewhat lost. "Maybe?"
"The way I see it, having bad moments just makes the good moments sweeter once they arrive. That's life, Stanley."
This made Stan think for a moment. He then realized that what Ford said may have been somewhat true. Despite it being their birthday, they've been through multiple downs. The next few days may not be the best, but eventually, a point will come where they might share a good moment, and perhaps the hell they've gone through may have been worth it all.
And with them beginning their final run back to Gravity Falls, perhaps that moment was actually much sooner than they thought.
Suddenly, he felt something on the back of his headrest, slightly startling him. He glanced back and noticed the Snacken crawling its way onto the shoulder of his chair, looking down at him.
While it would normally freak Stan out, he felt a bit better about the Snacken at that moment and smiled at it. He placed his hand on top of it and began stroking its head softly.
"Makes the good moments sweeter, huh?" Stan said to Ford as he continued petting the Snacken.
Ford smiled at him before directing his eyes back to the road ahead as the light turned green. They began moving again, more than ready to continue their journey back to Gravity Falls.
With their eyes focused ahead, they soon drove past an old playground on the beach with a set of two swings that faced the setting sun over the glistening ocean.
GSVB'OO IVNVNYVI GSV WZBH GSVB FHVW GL KOZB
GSVM IVGFIM GL GSV UZOOH HLNV HFMMB WZB
And that's that. While this episode was very emotion-heavy, things are gonna kick back into high gear in the next one, aka the mid-season.
Hope you're ready.
-Absolute Rift
(Updated as of December 26, 2022)