Ford rubbed his eyes, the darkness encasing his lab not helping the headache that was blooming behind the bridge of his nose. Six fingers wrapped around the handle of his coffee mug, taking a sip of the pitch-black liquid. As he went to set it down, slim, delicate fingers wrapped around his wrist, more of them taking the cup from him.

Startled, Ford went for his gun, but settled down only a little when he seen who it was.

He was in his more humanoid form, strawberry blond hair reaching past his hips to tease his thighs. Bright, golden eyes all demons seemed to share blazing in the darkness, staring at Ford as he took a sip of the coffee he had stolen. He was pale, nearly glowing in the dim lights of the lab, the green light from different electronics and tubes making him look sickly. He was clad in gray sweats and a white, sleeveless t-shirt, feet bare.

"You scared me," Ford chuckled, rubbing at his heart through his green trench coat and white button-up. His black slacks blended in with the low lighting and his brown boots were still muddy. Dark eyes drooped behind glasses, hand combing through fluffy, brown hair. He chuckled as the demon wrinkled his nose and set the coffee down.

"How you drink it like that astounds me, Doctor Ford," the demon drawled, his voice smooth, seductive and sweet.

"I've told you to call me Ford, Abez," the scientist chuckled, going back to racking his brain for another answer to an equation.

"You need to sleep, Sixer. Your exhausted, only lasting on this nightmare of a drink. Come to bed, friend, and rest," Abez called, appearing behind the man and gently grabbing his wrists. He set his chin on Ford's shoulder, making the man glace at him.

Ford sighed. "Yeah, your right. As always." He ran a hand over his face, yawning. Abez watched him walk off, heading toward the spare bed they kept down here for Ford's late nights. Nodding in approval, he disappeared to check on the man's lab partner, finding him asleep in his own home. Satisfied, he traveled miles away, faster than a human could blink, drawn to a source of energy he was so familiar with.

He was sleeping in his car again, shivering in the cold. He looked just like Ford, if a bit broader. Abez's eyes softened, hand falling onto the window. He couldn't help him, not without a deal, but he could watch over him for Ford. He knew the man cared deeply for his twin, though there was a lingering anger clinging to it.

He sighed, letting himself sink into the ground, being pulled through dimensions and into his home. Shadows licked at his heels, his skin turning red and his hair darkening to a crimson. Horns curled from his forehead to the back of his neck, though not quite reaching it. A single wing curled around him, hugging up to his chest and covering his left side. His right eye's sclera turned black, his demonic heritage shinning through once more.

He dropped into his throne, sighing and stretching his wing comfortably over the side. He braced his head with his right hand, a headache forming.

"Your in too deep with him, Sixer. I hope my angelic brethren watch over you."

0oo00oo0

"Stanford!" Stanley screamed, reaching fruitlessly for the man disappearing into the light blue of the portal. The man threw the journal in his hands, but it was not caught by his twin. Pale, delicate hands caught it by the spine. With an apologetic look, pink lips curled into a hurting smile.

"I'll take care of him, Doctor Ford. Go, and know that he is safe." Ford nodded, gratefulness clouding his eyes. He was sucked though, the portal powering down.

"NO!" Stanley called out rushing around the advanced technology, trying to get the portal to power back on.

"It will not work, Stanley," Abez called, cradling the book in his arms as if it were the most precious thing. "He is gone."

"Bring him back!" Stan shouted, tears pooling in his eyes and streaking down his cheeks. "I want my brother back!"

"I cant do that, Stanley," Abez denied, shaking his head, feeling the emptiness of loss create a hole in his chest. "Not without taking your soul as the bargaining chip." Stan looked at him wide-eyed, fully taking in the man that had suddenly appeared. His blue eyes glittered with something otherworldly, powerful and full of regret.

"He will come back, but only with your help," Abez assured, running his fingers over the golden, six-fingered hand print on the cover of the book, a bold '1' on the cover. Abez seemed to think for a second, cautious and reluctant, before offering the bound parchment to the twin. "He wanted you to have this. Know that every word in the book is true, and that there are three of the journals scattered about. You have only the first, and all three have the key to recalling Doctor Ford to you. Good luck, Stanley."

As soon as Stanley had a firm grasp on the old book, the stranger vanished in the snakes of shadows and vines of darkness that crawled up his form and whisked him off.

0oo00oo0

Dipper Pines narrowed his eyes at the book in his hands, a '3' written in sharpie on a six-fingered, golden hand. He opened the cover, 'The Property of --' sparking his interest. The name was ripped off, 'Vol. 3' in beautiful loops on the next page. As he ventured through the book, he came across a two-page entry.

The male drawn there was handsome, slim neck and sharp jaw. A single wing hung from his left shoulder, draping over the throne he was sitting in. His long hair rested around him, a piece dangling between two horns that curled around his skull. A Roman toga hanging off of his shoulders. His right sclera was colored black, the other the normal white. His irises had been colored, which was odd, and were a bright gold.

Reading the notes, which were in a different scrawl than the rest of the journal, Dipper felt his brows disappear into his bangs.

'Abezthibou

Species: Demon Class: King

This is the rumored King of Demons. His power is unmatched but his tone is either gentle or uncaring to the rest of the world. He, unlike most demons, he can appear in our realm in a perfectly physical form.

Conclusion: Harmless until angered '

There were added notes, these ones in the familiar loops of The Author.

'He has odd habits. His eyes blaze red when upset and blue when he's sad. The color of his eyes seem to be a window to his emotions. He like sweets, milk and sugar in his coffee. He can teleport, or move too fast to see, or both. He seems to have control over shadows, but he hasn't shown me much. Open, but closed off at the same time. He lets me call him Abez.'

It seemed The Author really liked this demon. He seemed peaceful enough, through the notes. It had a class to it, which was odd. He figured it was a demon thing. Turning the page, Dipper's eyes widened. It was blacked out with ink, eyes in red glaring back up at him. He quickly turned the page, coming across another demon.

'Bill Cipher

Species: (Dream) Demon Class: Lord

He can only appear in dreams, the 'Mindscape', he calls it. He has to possess someone to interact with the physical world. He was worshiped in a lot of religions, his image spread out over different ruins.

Conclusion: Fr-

DO NOT SUMMON AT ALL COST.'

It was written in read marker over whatever the ink had said. A chill ran down Dipper's spine. He noticed the change in writing, adding the third party to mind. He found the second writer putting his own notes in, and what he had to say startled the young Pines.

'Trust not a word he says, for they are layered in lies. His words always have a double meaning, and you must find it and destroy it with wit. He was banished from the demon's realm for a reason, cast aside to wander the Nightmare Realm. Trickery is his specialty, so beware, human, of what you do.'

Human? Does this mean that the second writer was a demon? Connecting the dots, he turned back two pages, to the image of a smiling, King-class demon.

The second writer was Abezthibou...

"Dip 'n Dot!" came the screech of his twin sister, her hair the same shade of brown and eyes just as dark as his own. She had hers held back by a pink headband- his by his old, brown hat- matching her pink sweater with a purple cat on it. A blue skirt swayed around her legs. She clung to the blue vest that hung over his red t-shirt.

"Hi, Mabel," Dipper chuckled, dropping the book onto his bed and wrapping his arms around his sister so she didn't fall off the bed.

"Whatcha reading? Some nerd thing? Oo! He's cute!" she squealed, looking at the person in the picture. "What is his name? It's hard to read."

"The Author called him Abez," Dipper explained. "I don't know if it was just a nickname or if he only allowed The Author to call him that."

"Anyways, Grunkle Stan wants us to help in the shop!" Mabel announced cheerfully, her braces flashing in the light. Dipper sighed, rolling his eyes. Getting up, leaving the journal, Dipper followed his twin down from the attic to the gift shop.

Pale, thin finger picked up the journal, flipping through a few pages fondly. Brushing his fingers over his own artwork, a smile etching its way onto his face, his eyes lighting up a healthy gold and a icy blue. He closed it, pressing the top of the cover to his lips.

"I miss you, old friend."

0oo00oo0

Dipper looked up from placing more bumper stickers in the bowl, having heard the bell to the shop ring. Who he saw struck him.

Brown eyes were warm and strawberry blond hair was braided down his back, reaching his hips, gray weaving through it with age and stress. He was tall, maybe even taller than their Grunkle. He wore comfortable looking grey sweats, red t-shirt a dark crimson. He didn't wear any shoes, but you could barely tell as his pants brushed the floor. He sent a soft smile at him, making Dipper blink.

"I haven't seen you here. What is your name? You look a little young to be working," the stranger greeted, sending a brief wave to Wendy, who was only gawking at him. He had a slang to his words, an accent he couldn't place.

"Dipper Pines, you?"

"I get called many things, but you can call me Keir."

"That's fancy," Mabel butted in, "are you not from around here?"

"I was born in Ireland, but came here to vacation," he explained.

"I'm Mabel, Dipper's twin!" she beamed, holding out a hand for him to shake, he grabbed it, putting the back of it to his lips briefly before letting it go. Mable giggled, her face lighting up in a blush.

"Pines... You're related to Stanford?" Keir asked, scanning the twins once more. Definitely related.

"He's our Gruncle," Dipper informed, wracking his brain to try and figure out where he had seen this man before. The man chuckled, amused by the name.

"Do you know if he's in? I know I came in during work hours, but I wanted to speak with him," Keir questioned.

"He's probably doing a tour," Wendy piped up, "and if your such good friends with Stan, how come I've never seen you."

The red-heads stared at each other for a moment before Keir chuckled.

"I went back home for a while. I only now got back to Gravity Falls. It's nice to see you again, Wendy." Wendy glared, suspicious.

"How do you know me?"

"I know your father. Am I getting interrogated?" Keir chuckled, flicking his brown eyes to a door as a disgruntled Stan in his Mystery Man suit stumbled up to them. His eyes landed on Keir, eyes growing wide.

"Hey, it's been a while."

"Indeed, it has." Keir smiled fondly at him before a flush of embarrassment crept into his cheeks. "Ah, I wanted to speak with you. I currently don't have a place to stay, and I was hoping you could bunk me until I could find a place."

"What happened to your place?"

"It... fell into disrepair. I could fix it up, but that would take even more time."

"Why not stay at the hotel?" Wendy questioned, walking over to the group. Keir wrinkled his nose. "You're right," she chuckled.

"Ya can stay here as long as you need. You could have that spare room. It hasn't been washed in thirty years, but eh," Stan shrugged.

"We have a spare room?" Dipper blinked.

"Oh! That old room? It really hasn't been taken care of? Stan Pines," he scolded lightly, playfully hitting his arm.

"Hey! I'm not young anymore!" he barked, rubbing his shoulder. Keir only laughed.

"And I'm a spring buck? Stan, I'm only a few years younger than you," he laughed. "It seems I've kept in better shape, though. Cutting it loose, Pines?" Their Grunkle grumbled, waving him off with a 'go clean you room or something'. "He sounded like he was scolding a child. He should know better than that."

"So you're living with us?" Mabel asked, eyes practically growing twice in size, glistening in hope.

"It seems so," he confirmed, ruffling her hair. "Well, young man," he began, turning to Dipper, "Do you mind helping me carry a few cases? Nothing big." Dipper nodded, following the man out to the porch to three smaller suitcases and a rather large travel bag. The older man grabbed the travel bag and a suitcase, leaving Dipper with two, rather light, cases.

They moved them upstairs, stopping in front of a wall. The Irishman wrinkled his nose, dropping his bags.

"Really, Stan," he grumbled. "I should at least be able to get to the door." Dipper went to question, but was silenced when Keir ripped the wallpaper, revealing a door. "He was probably half asleep putting up wallpaper, knowing him. Didn't even bother to remember there's a door here."

Dipper snickered. That did sound like his uncle. Dipper gazed around the room in awe. A blue carpet sat in the middle, which Keir eyed cautiously. A rather large couch sat under the boarded window. There was a covered mirror, which sat next to a cluttered desk. An inch of dust cluttered everything, making the Irishman sigh.

"Looks like I have a bit of cleaning to do." He walked in, setting his things next to the door. His first act was to roll up the carpet, but Dipper caught the tag as he set down the suitcases he was carrying.

"'Experiment 78'... but it's a carpet," Dipper quizzed, making Keir chuckle.

"This thing probably can electrocute you or something. Heaven only knows with this place," he laughed.

"What do mean?"

"You should know by now, Sapling," he grinned, setting the carpet against the wall. "Mind getting me a hammer, a rag, and some soapy water?"

Brows furrowed, he went to grab the requested items. 'Keir' glared at the carpet, growling softly. "That's a bad joke, Sixer. Putting a mind-switching carpet in your room." He looked about, sighing. "You don't even have a proper bed in here. More like an office than a bedroom. So like you."

Dipper came back, items and Mabel in hand. She offered to help, saying she had brought extra cloths so she a Dipper could help. Keir declined, saying there were a few things he needed to go through. He looked at the desk pointedly, shooing the twins out.

"There are adventures to be had. Go find them. You only have the summer, you know," Keir advised, walking back into the room, but not shutting the door. He first grabbed the hammer, going to the window. Dipper and Mabel let him be.

He got the window sorted and the dust cleaned, storing papers away in the drawers for safe keeping. He would look through them all later. He magicked a bed into existence, feeling the twin far off already. He cleaned the cobwebs from the ceiling and the stain-glass window. He narrowed his eyes at the hole above the couch, simply making the planks grow to cover it.

By time he was done, it was rather late and the whole room smelled of flowers. Happy with himself, he made his way to the kitchen. It was empty, the twins still off somewhere and Stan in his chair with the T.V. on. He took a quick inventory, wincing when he realized there wasn't much.

With the promise to quickly come back, he ran to the store to grab a few things before arriving back at the Mystery Shack with the twins (who he met on his way back). They looked rather ruffled, as if they had just gotten out of a brawl. They -meaning Mabel- explained that they ran into gnomes at one point, who wanted to make her their queen or something. She animatedly told him the story, Keir nodding and putting in comments as she went, but his attention was on Dipper, who had his nose stuck into the third journal.

He pretended not to see him trying to gauge his reaction.

Once they got back to the house, the twins watched in awe as Keir worked around the kitchen with ease. The smell was heavenly and the taste even more so when they finally sat down to eat. Keir didn't eat much, they noticed, but he seemed happy with letting them get their seconds and their praise.

A simple mix of steamed vegetables, white rice, and steak cubes melted on their tongues, amusing Keir to no end with their blissed expressions. He was once again quizzed after dinner.

"How did you meet Gruncle Stan?" Dipper asked.

"Well," Keir started looking far away with a soft smile, "it was when he first opened the Shack, actually. I went on one of the tours and found it rather hilarious. The fact that people pay money to see it and somewhat enjoy it makes you Grunkle a genius." Stan puffed up a bit, pleased with the praise. "We simply talked and end up as friends. Honestly, I practically lived here before I moved back to Ireland."

"Why'd ya move back?" Mabel questioned, drinking her deadly mix of fruit juices and glitter. With a raised eyebrow, he answered.

"I was homesick. Ireland is such a pretty place. It has clean air and beautiful scenery. Nothing is better than home," he sighed longingly. "I came back because I missed the oddness of Gravity Falls. This place has an energy that you cant get anywhere else. I guess it just pulls you in."

Dipper nodded, knowingly. He could have swore he seen Keir's eyes spark.

"That's what your accent is," Dipper confirmed, nodding to himself. "Irish. Should have known, really."

"My accent?" Keir grinned, amused. "If you wanted to know, you could have asked. Really, no harm done."

After a few more questions, Dipper dragged the older man off, upstairs and into the attic room, Mabel happily following.

"Do you know what this is?" he asked, getting a raised brow from the man. He took the book from him, opening it and looking over the contents. He knew it all by heart, every word written in such familiar loops.

"I was wondering where I had seen you before. You look older, but I know who you are."

A deep chuckle, smooth and deadly, rose from his chest, startling the two twins.

"You'll do just fine, Dipper Pines," he cooed, accent gone and his eyes bursting into gold. They grays in his hair vanished, leaving only strawberry blonde. He looked thirty years younger, standing up strait and easily reaching 5'11". "Just fine, indeed."

"Dipper?" Mabel questioned, eyeing the journal as it once again switched hands.

"What are you doing here? You wrote some of the journals, right? I have so many questions! Some of it makes no sense," Dipper ranted, pacing his floor. "Wait, does Gruncle Stan know about you?"

"He might. I'm not positive."

"So you really are Abez..." Dipper breathed. He watched the Demon King flinch, his eyes shining an icy blue.

"I am." He smiled at Mabel, watching as confusion flooded her thoughts. "Perhaps you should inform your sister in your findings." Dipper opened the journal and turned to the right page, handing it to his twin. She looked at the picture, then to the man, back to the picture.

"Oh. Well hi! I'm Mabel," she grinned, braces flashing.

"I am Abezthibou, but you may call me Abez," he reintroduced. "Demon King and Ruler of the Sins." Dipper narrowed his eyes. "Yes, Sapling?"

"You know who The Author is. Who? Where are they? You two seemed really close."

"Close, Sapling? What gave you that idea?"

Dipper motioned and Mabel gave the demon the book, who took it and looked it over. His own handwriting glared back, smooth letters in impressive cursive from years of practice.

At the bottom of the page, another familiar scrawl added his notes. They different ways his power manifested, the way he reacted to different chemicals and herbs.

It was the last paragraph that nearly had him tears. Personal quirks and odd habits were written. His taste in sweets and the cute nickname his human started calling him instead of the infuriatingly long name.

Dipper watched his eyes change colors, a soft blue shining through gold as the demon read the pages.

"We were close..." he began, hesitant. "Practically brothers. We had an odd relationship. He would ask for my help, but I couldn't always give it. I protected him, but never got him out of life and death situations. I can't tell you where he is, for I don't truly know. He will come back, though. I can feel it in my bones."

He gave Dipper the journal, the gray's returning to his head as if the journal was sucking out his youth as it left his hands.

"I trust you with this book, Mason Pines. You and your sister are something special. Keep Star close, yeah?" Abez smiled, tapping the bill of his hat. "I can't tell you much," he sighed, moving the the triangular window of the attic, "but Gravity Falls reveals itself to those worthy. Having the gnomes already greet you, your in for a wild summer. Have fun, and don't get yourselves killed."

With that, the almighty demon left, smirk on his face as he headed to his room. It had been thirty years, but he could still see Ford moving about the wooden floor and shuffling papers on the oak desk. Sighing in sadness, not yet tired, he went to see what Stan was up to.

Teleporting into the underground lab, eyes glowing a soft gold with the flicker of magic, he found Stan pouring over the first journal.

"Your nephew has the third," Abez informed, spooking the Pines. A smirk greeted the scowl he was given.

"I know."

"Your letting them keep it?"

"You let them keep it," Stan countered. "If anything, I'm surprised you didn't take it. He figured you out rather quickly."

"I wasn't trying. I could change my entire form if I wished and he wouldn't have known a thing. I was putting his observation to the test and he passed with flying colors."

"But he's a total whimp. His sister has more metal than he does." Stan flipped through the pages before stopping at the unfinished schematics of the large machine in front of them.

"He's a Pines," Abez reflected, "he is stronger than most. He just confronted the King of Demons without so much as a flinch. I'm proud of him."

"That's because Ford makes you out to be friendly," Stan grunted.

"Stealing things from your nephew? Stanley, theft is a sin," Abez chuckled, eyes glowing a little brighter in mischief.

"You would know all about that," Stan laughed, moving around Abez and leaving the demon to himself.

His smile faded, eyes glowing a purple, red and blue mixing.

He vanished, only to appear in front of the triangular gateway that stole his best friend from him.

Blue conquered red in his eyes, sadness bubbling in his chest. The ground rose to meet him as he sat, the rock morphing to turning into a plush throne as Abez took in old scents from the past. It was weak, with him being gone for so long, but he had spent so much time here, everything was saturated in the smell of chemicals and pine trees.

He smelled of the woods, clean air and oddness. So unique that he couldn't pin it. So achingly familiar and yet, not at all. He had spent so much time with the older Pines twin and yet...

He had let him disappear.

Anger bubbled again, directed at himself. He should have... but he couldn't. Red dimmed to a pink frustration as his own rules came to bite him.

'Without a deal, demons are not to interfere with the life or death of humans. In the odd chance that the demon has mated the human, this will be the exception.'

Demons were a proud race, much too proud to mate a human... It was a once-time thing. If your mate died, that was it. There was no second try. Abez still had his mark to give, many trying to vy for his hand. The only one he could even think as suitable was Lucifer, the Sin of Pride.

Eyes watering, Abez let himself relax and fall apart in his human's sanctuary that was his home since he had met the man. He sang into the empty room softly, his voice chasing the ghosts that haunted his past.

Do you remember

That day in October?

The leaves were falling

Just like me when it was over

One more day of sorrow

And I'll struggle to say sober

Hope to see you when I get older

I still remember the smell of your perfume

It hasn't left me since the day you made me blue

I think I saw you

but I know I'm not supposed to

I must be dreaming because I don't believe in ghosts...

Chuckling to himself, he wisped himself to his room, once owned by his little human, and grabbed a drawing pad out of the air.

There was no sleeping for him, fake or otherwise.

0oo00oo0

The smell of bacon woke the twins from slumber, Mabel quickly running downstairs as Dipper lagged behind.

Keir was in the kitchen again, fried eggs, pancakes, and bacon already on the table as he cooked the last of it. There was a newspaper waiting for their uncle at the head of the table, a cup of coffee accompanying it.

Keir turned to them, brown eyes lighting up. "Good morning, Sapling, Star. Breakfast is ready if you want it." His hair was free from its normal braid, still wearing the gray sweats and red shirt from yesterday.

Mabel energetically nodded, noticing that there was a blender with multiple colors in it on the counter. Curious, she took off the lid and dipped in a finger, licking it clean afterward.

Her brows furrowed before her eyes went wide.

"That's so good! What is that?" Mabel asked excitedly, watching the older man turn off the burners and grab a glass from the cupboards. He handed it to her and nodded, letting her pour herself a glass.

"It's blended fruits, a little bit of milk and sugar, blended with a bit of ice for some thickness. I don't believe humans are supposed to intake glitter, dear Mabel."

She pouted, but asked if her brother wanted some. Stan grumbled his way into his chair and narrowed his eyes at the cup of coffee on the table. He seemed to find it satisfactory, taking another gulp.

After breakfast, the Pines twins ran off, exploring the Mystery Shack to its fullest.

Chuckling, watching them run off, he turned to Stan. "Plans for today?" he inquired, pouring the last of the fruit smoothie into his cup.

"Making money," Stan grunted. Keir rolled his eyes, picking up the dishes to wash them. "Why are ya acting like a maid? Have one of the kids do it."

"Because I have nothing better to do. Let them have their childhood, Stan. Really, you should know the importance of that." Keir's eyes softened, smile accompanying it. "Anything you need me to do after I'm done picking up?"

"Nothing much, honestly. Unless you want to hang around and help out in the shop."

"I'll see if Wendy needs anything," he agreed easily. "Don't you have another employee running around somewhere?"

"Name's Soos. He's the handyman. You'll meet him sooner or latter."

Keir hummed, washing the last of the dishes before wiping off the stove. A quick glance at the table told him it was fine and he made his way to his room.

The shadows crawled up his frame, switching his clothes out for black slacks and a gray button up, crimson bowtie finishing his look. Dispute how much he hated shoes, he decided to don his feet with black boots.

He was brushing out his long hair when he heard someone scream. It was more startled than fearful, so Keir kept his pace casual as he checked out the noise.

It was Dipper, he realized, and it seemed they found a room full of wax figures. Keir peeked in, noticing a third in the room with the twins.

He was a rather large man, wearing a green shirt with a question mark in it. He had seen one of those in the shop. Kaki shorts and black sneakers accompanied it, topped with old, well worn brown hat.

"Is everything alright? I heard someone shout," Keir called into the room, watching the three whip around with no little amusement.

"Keir!" Dipper called. "Did you know this was here?"

"I did," he confirmed, stepping into the room to look around at wax a bit closer. "It's an old exhibit that was put to rest some time ago." He turned to the other man. "I don't believe we've met."

"Friends call me Soos," he introduced, holding out a hand. Keir took it as he relayed his name. "That's a nice accent there, dude. Where you from?"

"Ireland," he replied, turning his attention to the twins. "What were you all doing here, anyways?"

"Lookin' around," Mabel answered, grin on her face.

"I was going to ask a favor of you, Mabel, so I suppose it's good I found you. I was wondering if you could braid-"

"YES!" she squealed, pushing Keir out of the door and to his room.

Dipper only blinked at them, watching as Keir was wisked off.

"So, dude, who was that? I haven't ever seen him around," Soos asked. Dipper furrowed his brows, trying to remember the demon king's cover story.

"He just came back from going back to Ireland. Apparently, he's friends with Gruncle Stan," Dipper informed, leaving the room.

0oo00oo0

"You have so much hair!" Mabel awed, finishing her work. His long locks were once more tamed and braided, flowing over his shoulder so he could see.

It had been braided with beads that Mabel had insisted she use. They weren't sparkly and little animals, as he had thought when she first offered up the idea, but wooden ones that blended well with his hair. She had ranted on as she worked graying strands, saying that she thought they were pretty but didn't match her style, so she kept them knowing she might need them one day. They had been a gift, she explained, from her mother so she could try it. Mabel's nose had wrinkled, saying her hair was much too fluffy to try and fit it through those small beads.

He thanked her, watching her run off to join her brother and Soos in whatever adventure that had fallen into. The flicker of magic wasn't missed, and a grin split his face as he thought of what he was going to cook for lunch.

It was later in the day when there was a yell. Rolling his eyes, Kier ghosted through the house, abandoning the book he was reading. He blinked, several times, pinched himself, rubbed his eyes, and sit didn't understand what he was looking at.

Laying, on the floor, with Stan, Dipper, and Mabel standing over it with looks of pure sadness and heartbreak, was a wax figure... of Stan?

"Kier!" Mabel cried, her eyes misty. "Someone has murdered Wax Stan!" Kier blinked again as lightning struck and thunder boomed off in the distance.

"That is what all the yelling was about? Nearly gave this old man a heart attack! I'm sorry for your loss," Kier deadpanned.

"We have to find his murderer," lightning cracked again, "Kier! This is an injustice we cant allow!"

"Of course. I will help in any way I can, detective," Kier smirked, crossing his arms. Dipper narrowed his eyes.

"Where were you when this happened?" His twin gasped, frowning at her brothet for accusing their friend of such a thing.

"I don't have shoes with holes in them," Kier argued, showing bare feet, and had a rebuttal for when Dipper questioned how he knew that. "There is a print in the carpet. I just vacuumed, so the carpet should be clean of most prints."

Dipper, seemingly satisfied, nodded and apologized.

"No need. One must question all, for you never know if it is your closest friends who will stab you in the back. When on the hunt for honesty, trust no one." The youngest Pines flinched, but noticed the furrowing of Kier's brow. When questioned, he pointed to the floor by Stan's chair.

There was an axe.

"The murder weapon," Stan growled, lightning and thunder rumbling through the room. Dipper handled the axe, eyes going wide in realization.

"Manly Dan was at the meeting, so he has a motive and a background with the murder weapon! Come on, Mabel!"

The twins rushed out the house to hunt down Wendy's father. Kier chuckled, watching them go. He closed the front door that was left open in their rush and turned back to Stan.

He honestly looked horrified, which brought both worry and amusement to the King of Demons.

"Stanley?" He looked up from the decapitated Wax Stan on the floor. "Friend?" Red flashed, eyes becoming hard. "He is fine, Stanley. I can feel it in my stolen bones."

He only nodded, neither confirming or denying. He dragged the wax figure away, saying something about a funeral through faked sniffles. Rolling his eyes, Kier headed back to his book that he was enjoying. As he passed the room of wax figures from days of old, he paused.

"You all think you're cleaver. Hurt the children and I'll melt you into sentient candles."

He kept walking, continuing to his room. He closed the door, making sure that the twins knocked first should they look for him, before taking off his shirt, feet already bare to the wooden floors. He lifted the book from the couch just under the window where he had been soaking up the sun, and once again began to chuckle at the dramas of humanity.

0oo00oo0

Apparently, it had been the wax figure of Sherlock Holmes that had murdered Wax Stan, and he was melted along with the rest of his conspirators in a tussle with the twins.

Kier only chuckled as Mabel informed him as she took out the beads in his hair, leaving it loose for bed. He complained lightly, grumbling about having to remove the wax from both the roof and the wooden floors. Mabel had jokingly offered to help him make them into candles. She just blinked at him when he questioned how she knew that's what he was going to do.

After bidding her a goodnight and getting one in return, Kier watched her run upstairs to her and her twin's shared attic room. Sighing, he made his way out of his room, making for the lab. He felt pent up, unnatural in this skin he had to take.