CHAPTER 1

Ford wrote furiously in his journal, valiantly trying to ignore the sound of voices from outside his home.

The keyword here, as had become increasingly common for him, was 'try.' The dozen or so feet and thick wooden wall did very little to muffle the voices of his grand-niece and nephew, as they loudly bid adieu to the town that they had spent their summer exploring, understanding, and ultimately, saving.

The - attempted - end of the world had indeed come before the end of summer. This time, however, Bill's plans did not come to fruition. Through quick-thinking, courage, and indeed, not just a small amount of good ol' fashioned luck, Pines family managed to seal off the dimensional rift and cast Bill Cipher out of this world – for once and for all.

It had… turned out much better than Ford would have ever imagined, or even hoped. No deaths, no injuries, no one driven into crippling insanity (don't think about fiddleford-) which meant that both Mabel and Dipper would return home much the same as they had left it – physically, at least.

Even from the short weeks that he had been acquainted with the twins, Ford knew that both children had underwent their fair share of personal growth over these few months. Dipper had learned many of the lessons concerning knowledge and power that Ford himself had learned decades earlier, albeit much different (much worse) circumstances. Mabel, on the other hand, had been forced to reconcile some of her more idealistic notions with reality, a nugget of knowledge that Ford wished that he didn't have to be manipulated by a triangular dream demon in order to gain himself.

Yes, over the past few weeks, he had grown very fond of those two. He had become used to Mabel's casual acceptance of the strange, Dipper's insatiable thirst for knowledge – and so, Ford was very sorry to see them go.

Which made it all the more galling that he had to stay inside, curtains drawn, hidden from sight, as the children prepared to return home.

Of course he could understand the reasoning behind the decision. He had made the decision, even – Ford knew very well that the appearance of two Stanford Pines' would mark nothing but trouble for everyone involved. But in the end, the reason why he could not even venture out from his own home for fear of discovery…

The slam of a car door jarred him temporarily out of his thoughts. "Have a good trip home, kids!" He heard. "But, remember – if you see the cops in the rear mirror, hit the gas! They can't book you if they can't catch ya!"

Ford gritted his teeth. That reason was standing half a dozen feet from the door.

That reason had stolen his identity, besmirched his name, and had taken thirty years of his life from him – three decades that he could have spent advancing his chosen field of quantum physics, years that he could have spent with his family. He could have went to his parents' funerals. He could have watched his younger sister grow up.

Anything but the hellish decades he had spent scrabbling to survive in the other dimension.

(He's your family, too, said the little voice in his head, from a spot once occupied by a far more foreign entity. He gave up three decades of his life to bring you back -)

But that was over now. Stanford Pines was back in his home dimension, and… he would make things right. He would get his identity back and clear his name. He would do what he could for Fiddleford – it was the least he could do, given his role in the man's insanity. He would make sure Stanley –

"See you next summer, Grunkle Stan!" Came Mabel's loud cheer. Ford froze. "You better hug it out with Grunkle Ford before we come back and visit – because if you two are still grumping at each other next summer, I'm gonna make a giant 'hug it out' sweater and make you guys wear it!"

Stanley's reply was far less audible. For a conman, he had never been a good liar – not to his family. "…Yeah, yeah. Well, all I gotta say is… sweaters aren't exactly my thing." A brief pause. "So, guess I'll have to make sure ya don't have to make me wear one, huh?"

Mabel screamed in joy. Ford shook his head, irrationally glad that, at least for just a while longer, the twins wouldn't know the truth. He wouldn't have to explain to the children why he had to eject their beloved Grunkle Stan from the Mystery Sha– from Ford's home.

Just as well, because he wasn't even sure how to explain that to himself.

Weeks ago, when Ford had been fresh out of the portal, still reeling with the realization that after thirty years, he was back, there had been no doubt about this course of action. Stanley had stolen his name, his home, his life. The man might have worked to bring him back to this dimension, but it was because of his own heady guilt that he did so.

Well, that debt was paid. Ford didn't owe anything more to his twin. Stanley had to find his own path in the world – a path that shouldn't at all converge with Ford's.

But since then, Ford's adamant beliefs had been shaken. It had become clear that the bond between twins was not so easily broken, as demonstrated by both Stanley and himself. As much as Ford wanted to believe that Stanley had done all that he did out of pure selfishness, not even he could be so blind. Stanley had wanted Ford's approval and acceptance just as much as Ford, very deep down, wanted his.

He was wrong about his twin. Ford just wasn't sure how he was going to admit it.

But he couldn't shy away from it forever.

Distantly, he heard the revving noises of a car driving away. A minute later, the door to his home cracked open, and his brother stumbled in, back bowed, eyes suspiciously moist.

"Stanley," Ford said, and set down his journal. "Mabel and Dipper are gone, then?"

Stan startled at the sound of his voice, but straightened immediately, his frown transforming into a wide grin as he whipped around to face his twin, no sign of his previous weariness evident on his frame. Ford wasn't so easily fooled, however.

"Yeah, the kids are off to California. Things are gonna get a lot quieter without them, huh?" Stan paused, evidently aware of his slip of tongue. "Ah, I mean –"

"Stanley…" Ford shook his head with a sigh. "About that… We really need to talk."

His twin paled. "Uh…"

"I… heard you talking to Mabel, outside."

"…Son of a –" Stan muttered to himself. "Okay, fine. Yeah. Don't worry, I'm not gonna tell them about the whole, uh, throwing me out thing. That's one thing you can trust me not to do, by the way," he added with an underlining of self-deprecation, "I won't do anything that would hurt those kids."

"No, ah - That's," Ford hesitated. "That's not what I mean. Stanley, about what I told you all those weeks ago – right after you saved - right after I got out of the portal –"

"Geez, it's fine, Sixer. I get it, you –"

"That's not what I –"

Both men stopped at the same time. "I know," said Ford carefully, hesitantly, "that Gravity Falls has been your home for the past thirty years. I understand that you are reluctant to leave it."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Stan scoffed unconvincingly. "Look, Poindexter, you know me – I'll be fine anywhere. I did just fine those ten years, remember that?"

Ford had his doubts about that, especially considering the bedraggled, half-starved state in which Stanley had arrived at his home all those years ago. "Stanley, we both know that's not true," he sighed.

Stan tensed. "I can look after myself."

"You were living out of your car, Stanley –"

"I'm doing fine now, aren't I?"

"After thirty years of living under my name, living in my house, living with my identity, yes!" Ford gritted out.

Why did Stanley have to be so stubborn? He had seen how much his brother loved this town and the people in it, despite his constant grumbling about the stupidity of its citizens. Seeing Stanley performing to his audience in the Mystery Shack… it was the happiest Ford had seen his brother since their father had thrown Stanley out of the house.

"So this is how it is, huh?" His brother muttered darkly, and Ford realized suddenly that he might have said the wrong thing. "Look, Poindexter. Your name, the Mystery Shack, all your nerdy books and all that paperwork – they're all yours, alright? I don't want them – I don't need to be you to be successful. Hell, I don't – don't need you at all," he added, albeit somewhat unconvincingly.

Ford stood up and stepped forward hesitantly, one arm outreached. "Stanley –"

His brother stepped back. "Hey, I'll be outta your hair soon enough." Stan sighed. "Look, if you want, I can rent out a room for tonight, alright? I know a place in town –"

"For God's sake – " Ford spluttered, shaking his head. "No, you knucklehead, I'm not telling you to leave!"

The silence that prevailed after that exclamation was almost embarrassing.

"You, uh, what?" Stan blinked, clearly shocked, and cleaned out his ear with his little finger. "Gimme a sec, Sixer, I think my hearing aids -"

"There's nothing wrong with your hearing aids, Stanley." Ford sighed, unsure of just how to continue. It seemed like a lifetime ago that he had been able to talk easily with his twin – nowadays, it felt as if every conversation had become a minefield, littered with the hidden grievances of four decades of separation.

"Look, Stanley… It's obvious that you have made your own place, here in Gravity Falls. I'm not going to force you out of it." He attempted a weak smile. "Now, I'm not going to say that I'm particularly pleased that you turned my home into a roadside attraction… but I'm sure we can work something out. Most of my work is contained underground, after all, and I suppose…"

His brother stared at him, eyes wide behind his glasses, inexplicably pale. Ford hesitated slightly, confused and slight daunted by the lack of response – but forged on with determination.

"Though, I do want my name and identity back. But I'm sure we can figure out a way to explain your, ah, 'fiery death.' I'm not sure how exactly you faked your death, but without records of an identifiable body, it shouldn't be a problem to, ah, make our own alterations –"

Stan made an odd wheezing noise at that.

Ford hesitated, unsure how to react to the interruption. "Stanley?"

"…You really thought this all out, huh? And here I thought – Damn it, Sixer." Stan shook his head, an odd, pained smile on his face. "You reallyhaven't changed a bit from when we were kids, have you?"

"Stanley –"

"C'mon, it's been a long day," Stan said quickly. "Let's not deal with this now. We'll have plenty of time to, uh, figure this out tomorrow… Right? Sixer?"

Ford hesitated. "Well, I suppose –"

An artificially wide grin pasted itself on Stan's face, fooling absolutely no one. "Great! Uh, I'll just –"

Without a single word further, he turned his back and practically fled towards the direction of his room. Ford could do nothing more than stare, half a conversation's worth of rehearsed reconciliation tasting like ashes on his tongue.

This… had not been part of any of the dozens, hundreds of scenarios that Ford had ran through his head since he had made that final decision, had forced himself to confront the reality that he did not, in fact, want his twin to leave – not again. Perhaps he had been overly optimistic, but he had not expected Stanley to react so… strangely to Ford's offer.

Surely, Stanley would be pleased at the prospect of staying in Gravity Falls? The twins might be gone, but Ford was not blind enough to see that his twin's family extended to far more than blood relations.

Ford let out a sigh, and turned away from the spot where Stanley had last been. He should have learned by now that any conversation between him and his brother… was not going to end well. With the immediate threat of Bill gone, he had hoped – never mind that.

And yet.

They closed the door with their shaking hands.

Time was up.