HERE WE ARE KIDS. UNBETA'D AND WRITTEN IN A FLURRY. IF THERE'S ANYTHING WRONG WITH IT TELL ME. OTHER WISE

ENJOY

(I went back and edited obvious mistakes and such. enjoy!)

Ten- The Great Race

"Hot Belgian waffles! Wait- we're alone. I can swear for real! SON OF A-"

SMACK

A small hand slapped Stan upside the head.

"Hey!"

"Will you shut up?! You're gonna wake the kids with your potty mouth. Then we really will have to tell them everything, like I wanted to!"

"Alright, alright. Keep yer shirt on nerd."

A sigh. "Moron."

They stopped the tape.

"That's them alright." Said Dipper, he furrowed his brows.

"Okay, Okay…"

Dipper listened as his sister tried to make sense of why their grunkles would be stealing toxic waste, he in the meantime had spotted something and reached down to investigate. His eye widened in surprise at what he saw.

"-it doesn't mean they're leading a nefarious double life!" Finished Mabel. And it didn't mean she had done anything wrong by not telling Dipper of their keeping secrets.

"Mabel, I'm not so sure about that."

The bottom fell out of Mabel's stomach as she turned around and looked at her brother. He held a box in his hands. They brought the item over to the desk and turned on the nearby lamp, Mabel felt her mouth go dry as they rifled through the various passports and I.D cards Stan had apparently used over the years.

What kind of name was "8-Ball" anyway?

And what did their Grunkle Fiddleford have to do with this? Sure he had some "mad scientist" like qualities but-

'STAN PINES DEAD' read the headline of the article.

Mabel felt she had been punched in the gut as she read the bold print and dazedly handed the article to her brother.

"What?! Stan Pines Dead?!" Dipper couldn't believe it.

The two read through the article, surprise and disbelief washing over them. It only got worse when they found the other scrap of newspaper, proclaiming an unknown grifter was at large for the possible murder of one Stan Pines.

"Why would they call him 'unnamed'?! Unless Stan…"

"Isn't…"

"Stan?!"

They both looked up at the picture of their "grunkle", horror and disbelief racing through them both.

Dipper furrowed his brows, suspicion and anger beginning to plants their roots in his bright mind. His synapses flared as his thoughts raced to various conclusions.

"I think I now have a good idea of how exactly Grunkle Fiddleford's bruised cheek came about."

Both Dipper and Mabel had known it was more than Fiddleford "having two left feet", as he had called it; the injury- and Stan's absence really- had been suspect. But both had let the old hillbilly lie to them the night before all the same. Deciding to leave the issue for another day.

Mabel gasped, catching on to Dipper's suspicion.

"Dipper no! Grunkle Stan would never-"

"Our Grunkle Stan wouldn't. But this man might not be our grunkle Mabel! Who knows what he's capable of!?"

Dipper shook a passport to emphasize his point.

"B-but Dipper…"

She had to tell him. This was too much.

"Dipper I have something to tell you-"

"Grunkle Fiddleford actually does remember everything, he and Stan both have something to do with the author of the journals, and he wouldn't tell me or you anything because he trusts "Stan". And you didn't tell me because you trust him."

Dipper said this in deadpan as he rifled through the rest of the fake I.D.s and passports.

Mabel stared at him in surprise.

"You knew?"

"I listened in on you two before coming back into the kitchen that day, you're not the only one who likes to eavesdrop you know. I admit I was mad, but it was always more at Mr. Mystery than anything else. And though I don't appreciate the lying, I'm willing to give Grunkle Fiddleford the benefit of the doubt. For now."

"Dipper I'm so sorry. I just-"

"I get it Mabel. I know you wanted to tell me the truth, and you were about to just now. I-I understand. Now. But we have bigger things to worry about, so let's drop it, okay?" Here he gave Mabel a small, and somewhat wry, grin before turning back to the contents of the box.

All was forgiven, for the most part. Mabel felt the vice that had begun to squeeze upon her heart loosen just a bit.

She joined Dipper in going over the contents they had discovered once more. To ease their efforts the twins began to spread the plethora of items over the floor of the room. As Mabel began laying out passports side by side she looked over at Dipper, who was handling I. D. s.

"I-I still don't think he would hit-"

"We'll see Mabel. We'll see…"

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Stanford Pines ran through the forest, fire in his lungs as he pushed himself to go as fast as possible. He had been lucky with his timing and observation, the increasing anomalies saving his ass from a trip to Washington and all that would follow. The feds hadn't said anything about finding Fiddleford or his brother; that had to mean they hadn't found them. Or the lab.

Which meant something had happened in the underground lair, something that had turned on the portal.

'Lee what did you do?!' He thought frantically.

There was no way Fiddleford would have done it. He knew that for a fact; his lover's aversion for the bit of machinery was no secret. Not to mention there was no point, the reason they had even fixed it up was no longer existent.

So who else? Who else could get to the lab? Who else had been in the lab? Who else could be under the control of something other than himself?

Had the tattoo failed? Would it fail Stan himself? Would the necklace become useless too?

Had it become useless? Or worse, had Fiddleford taken it off?

Stanford's heartbeat increased even more, and it wasn't from the exercise.

"I gotta be there!" He said for no other reason than to add more motivation to himself.

"Hold on Fidds, just hold on. I'm coming."

He had to beat the clock.

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Jesus 'Soos' Ramirez made his way into the shack, determined to do his job. He would do what he had to in order to protect his employer and his family.

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Pacifica Northwest ran, she had been riding a bicycle- a fancy fiber glass thing guaranteed to last through the apocalypse- but after the last surge in- gravity? - It had been broken and now she had to deal with being on foot. At least she had had the sense to wear a pair of her sensible- and completely in season-sneakers.

She had seen the tapestry in the hallway- really seen it- for the first time today. She had broken out of the cloud of passivity she had lived in until now, and was well on her way to becoming someone new. And that meant looking at things in a brand new light. Including that bit of old fabric, showing a scene of destruction and what she could only describe as dark worship.

The reasoning for the tapestry that her father had told her was like poison to her ears now. She had realized her parent's true minds and selves- and was determined that she would not be like them!

Something was happening. And she knew who it was she needed to get to. Who she needed to tell the truth to.

She ran past a sign that proclaimed that the Mystery Shack was just a few miles away, her bag was heavy on her back. She needed to get there, to get to them. The closest thing she had to friends, the closest she had to people who were safe.

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"-and then there were all these cops and helicopters and I just- it wasn't my scene. I don't know what Mr. Pines got himself into but it is crazy!"

Wendy raised her hands in the air, emphasizing her point of view to her friends. She, Robbie, Lee, Nate, Tambry and Thompson were all seated in the graveyard. All lounged about on the grass, enjoying the singular calm and quiet only such a location could supply- even on a day such as this- and drank slushies.

Robbie and Tambry shared one between them and the whole situation was both grossly and adorably cute.

It had taken the group a while to coax the truth out of Wendy, the red head trying to play it off as nothing at first, or at least had been waiting until they were all in a "safe place" to let her more anxiety riddled tendencies to come out.

Robbie made a face, an idea suddenly coming to him.

"Hey Wendy, what about Dipper and Mabel? I know that guy, Soos, is probably there but what are those suits gonna do with the kids? Will they send them away?"

"Yeah, and what about everything going wonky and floating? Are they gonna be okay during that if it happens again?" Asked Nate.

Wendy's eyes widened in realization, she hadn't even thought of that.

"I-I don't- I didn't even think of it like that." She said, guilt settling in a bit.

She should have realized, should have known.

It had to do with the stuff in the bunker. IT HAD TO.

'Mr. Pines, what did you do?!' She thought frantically.

Now she was wondering what could have happened or what was happening to Dipper and Mabel. And Soos and Mr. McGucket as well, the two of them were most likely in the thick of it along with the children.

"But they're the government right? Shouldn't they- yeah okay I get your point." Thompson had begun his argument with a raised brow, but quickly deadpanned as he thought out his statement.

He looked at the others, they all shared similar glances of growing concern. An unspoken question and answer was being passed between them. Tambry looked up from her phone screen and locked eyes with the red head of the group. Reading her face expertly.

"Wendy, tell us everything while on the way."

The young lumberjack looked at Tambry and then at the rest of her friends in surprise; upon seeing the determined grins they gave her she couldn't help but return one to them in kind.

"You got it."

She looked over at Thompson.

"Keys?"

He grinned, "Got 'em."

She stood up then and said, "Well troops, let's move out!"

The gang of teenagers cheered and made the way to their car, and to the rescue.

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MCGUCKET WAKE UP. MCGUCKET WAKE THE FUCK UP!

*SMACK*

OH SONOVUBITCH! FUCK THAT STUPID NECKLACE!

Fiddleford McGucket awoke to the sounds of cursing and a slight sizzling. Someone had slapped him into consciousness- or at least what felt like consciousness. He blinked his eyes open and rolled his head about lazily, above him floated Bill Cipher. The being was waving about his hand as if he had burned himself, he continued to grumble obscenities as the sizzling sound continued to come from his limb.

The medallion around Fiddleford's neck was warm with recent activation. He looked around himself and realized that not only did he not feel as bad as he should for someone who had been hit by a Taser, but also that the world around him was in gray scale. And frozen in place.

He himself was frozen in mid-float.

"Wha-? Oh sweet sarsaparilla!"

Stanley floated not too far away from him, as limp as a rag doll. The two of them were a good three feet off of the ground. Not too far away a large scuffle was taking place. Mabel, Dipper, Soos and Stan were aiming for the emergency shut off switch to the portal. But were being held back by blasts of red and orange energy.

Which were being fired by one Gideon Gleeful.

Fiddleford's eyes widened as he took in the scene and he realized that the magic was still moving, just very slowly. As was the energy of the portal, and whatever it was he could see beginning to try to get through.

He gasped.

YEAH, SHIT'S REALLY HIT THE FAN HUH? Asked Bill, as blasé as could be.

The former hobo looked up at the dream demon, confused by his bored tone.

"W-what is that?"

MY SISTER, YOU'VE MET HER. REMEMBER? SHE'S THE REASON OL' STARCHILD OVER THERE IS THROWING OUT MAGIC LIKE IT WAS CANDY.

Answered Bill Cipher, with a mocking nonchalance as he floated about. He snapped his fingers and the small man fell suddenly to the ground with a small smack.

With a groan and a grumble Fiddleford slowly sat up, he felt a shiver of fear go down his spine. He didn't like this. Not one bit. Eyeing the triangle suspiciously, the small man asked

"B-but isn't that a bad thing? Y-you sound rather calm about it."

IT IS ONE, MORE OR LESS. WHAT I WANT IS FOR HER TO LOSE, AND SHE'S NOT WINNING JUST YET. AND SHE'LL HAVE EVEN LESS OF A CHANCE TO IF YOU SAY YES TO MY NEXT QUESTION.

"What?" Fiddleford stared at Bill in disbelief. Dread building up in his belly.

The demon turned to look at the old man and you could just tell there was a nonexistent grin on his face as he said,

ARE YA READY TO MAKE A DEAL?