Chapter 7

Stan headed down to the basement with a large thermos of coffee, leaning against the elevator wall as it took the short trip down. He had already buzzed ahead, so to speak, and gotten the all-clear, knowing that popping in unexpected would most-likely cause an explosion. Or a hissy-fit. Usually the latter.

He stepped out of the elevator, walking past the machinery and to the door where the portal used to be, looking through the window inside. After thirty years of knowing just what was inside, of seeing it every night, it still rattled him to see it empty now. He opened the door and walked inside, heading up to Ford.

"I brought your elixir, Fordy of Pineglen," he said, smirking as he ducked to avoid a balled-up piece of paper thrown at his head. Ford snorted, grabbing the thermos and took a sip.

"Excellent brew. Your quest shall be rewarded, Lee of the Shackshire." He leaned back in his chair, muffling down unmanly giggles at the look Stan gave him.

"I really hate that name, you know," he grumbled, taking a seat of his own.

"Well get used to it, you're gonna be using it for a good long while."

Stan rolled his eyes, taking some gum out of his pocket and popping it into his mouth, rearranging a set of books and papers on the table between him and his twin, absently thinking over the past week.

Ford had already done some experiments on what USED to be some odd creature, and Stan blocked out the scientific mumbo-jumbo and concluded to himself that the fumes from the partially-cooked creature corpse was so rank it made the niblings puke out the toxins. Ford sort of gave him an annoyed look at that crude summary, but just let it go.

After making SURE Dipper and Mabel were alright and suffering no side-effects, he collapsed on the floor next to Stan and they both took a long nap. So long, in fact, that Wendy called Soos and asked him to come over and help her move them both to the spare room.

Being bedridden from the inability to move without their bodies screaming in protest gave them plenty of time to talk things over and exchange apologies, thanks, anecdotes, and plans for the future.

Ford took the time to think about what would happen after summer ended, and about what would come after. Truthfully, he was never much of a 'for tomorrow' person, always having his nose buried in 'today's' work. Stanley was always the planner guy, even if the plan was ridiculous and unrealistic, but that quest to find the cure for Dipper and Mabel proved that Stanley was prepared for most anything. And if he wasn't prepared, he could improvise and adapt.

The Shack was evidence of that. Stanley had taken Ford's house and turned it into a business with steady income for thirty years. After the initial indignity of having his house turned into a tourist trap died down, he paid attention to what Stanley had been trying to tell him about the place. Stanley took some minor inspiration from the weirdness of Gravity Falls, but for the safety and sanity—and desire to not have the government or lawsuits on his ass—he made it JUST believable enough to be entertaining but fake enough to be safe.

For his barrier to hold up for twenty years, he had to have been doing something right.

Not to mention, Stanley genuinely loved his work. He was a real people-person, and could really sell himself for his tours. While Ford already gathered from bits and pieces of different sources, while Stan might not be the most well-liked, he was the most well-known person in Gravity Falls, opening his home for parties and get-togethers. Yes, he happened to make more money in the meantime, but people still came, and had a good time.

Stan and Ford were in the middle of weighing options of what to do with the house when Mabel walked in with some lunch, listened for a bit, then said, "Why not both?"

It was definitely doable. Ford could continue his research in the basement levels, and Stan could keep the Shack going up top. It would definitely take some getting used-to and compromise.

It was Stan who came up with the ultimate compromise. "Let me keep the Shack running, and I'll play Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons with you whenever you want. Lame name and everything."

After an entire childhood of trying to make THAT happen, how COULD Ford refuse?

"I saw you pop that gum in your mouth, Stanley, no cheat-rolls!" Ford said, sorting out his character sheets. Stan rolled his eyes, but took the gum out anyway. Ford didn't know WHY Stan felt the need to prep for a cheat-roll when he was already leveling up like a seasoned pro.

"Whatever, Sixer, just gimme the dice, I'm ready to kick your Ranger ass again."

Ford huffed, sipping his coffee, wondering how in the name of the Multiverse Stanley's Bard character managed to outman him almost every game. Must be that 38-rolled Charisma.

"Maybe we should invite the kids down here sometime," Stan said about an hour later. "Mabel would make a decent Chaos Sorceress."

"PERISH the thought, Stanley! I'm not sure the game could handle more Death Muffins." He and Stan shared amused laughter. "But yes, it sounds nice. I think it's supposed to rain tomorrow, it'll be something to do."

"IS it supposed to rain?" Stan asked, picking up the die. "Huh, that stuff's really been working long-term if my joints didn't pick up on that."

'That stuff' being referred to the items they brought home. After five days of bodily agony, Mabel finally got the idea of boiling the crystal water and using it to make tea with the dewdrop berries, crumbled moth wings, and the plant from the cliff. She brought it to her Grunkles, who began feeling better by sundown, and were able to move without pain the next morning.

Stan and Ford still drank a cup every morning, and it seemed to be doing wonders for their long-term problems, like Stan's back and Ford's mild arthritis in the hands.

"Remind me to get more of that stuff later," Stan said. "It's nice to wake up and not stare at the ceiling for a half-hour before getting up due to back pain."

"Let's finish this quest before we go on another, Lee of the Shackshire."

"Sixer, I swear to Olidammara…" He paused, his face going red as Ford laughed. "Oh, shut up, it's the name of the god of the Bards, you ass!" He threw the die at Ford's head. "If you tell the kids, I'm denying everything!"

Ford just laughed harder.