Chapter 25

Disclaimer: Alex Hirsch owns Gravity Falls, not me. Translations for Spanish at bottom.

~2012, July~

The trio were astounded by the events recounted about one Stanford Pines' past. Despite leaving out the grisly details of his life, the children knew he had encountered a rough life and were surprised he would even tell them about it in the first place. The fact that Carla McCorkle would decide to move on without him when he was imprisoned in another country, which he only vaguely touched on, was what might of shocked them the most. Or perhaps it was the fact that what could possibly be or not be one selfish deal had caused Stan to lose control of his body, his brother, and his best friend. What confused them though was perhaps the involvement Bill Cipher had had with the Pines in the past, leaving devastation and chaos in his wake. If he was simply doing what the wheel wanted or if he found it hilarious to torment people seemed increasingly unclear to the trio, though Mabel seemed to linger on the former, while Dipper seemed to linger on the first. The last third on the trio, found demons to be untrustworthy in any situation, though would be willing to work with Bill, as long as it benefited his friends. The line of what was considered good and evil were blurring for the triangle and none could tell what his true plans were.

Mabel seemed to be the one who found words first, finishing off the last of her hot chocolate. "...Carla did save you from the bad guy then."

Stan nodded, chuckling a bit at her. He appreciate that his grand-niece had not pitied him for the details he had told them, though he avoided mentioned such details as when he had attempted suicide all those years ago. "Yeah, kid, she did."

"...that is Stanley in the other dimension then..." Dipper whispered to himself.

The elder man narrowed his eyes. "Is there something you two have to tell me now?"

The siblings glanced at one another, clearly hesitating. Mabel bit her lip, fidgeting. "Wellllll, do you remember when we told you about knowing what happened to Grandpa Stanley?"

"Yeah, I didn't think you two needed to be told what happened, but since I've told you what happened, there's no point in hiding it. I just don't understand how you kids found that out, anyways."

"Wellll, um when we told you he talked to us through our powers, we weren't lying."

Stan released a sigh after a moment, rubbing his hands together. "...alright, let's just say I believe you, even though Dipper said you didn't have anyway to show me. When I get my brother back, then he can just verify your story and everything will make sense."

"H-How a-are y-you g-getting h-him back?" Gideon quietly chimed in.

The twins frowned as they though on this question, though Dipper seemed to have a face of realization moments later. "Oh my god, you got the portal to work, again."

He sighed. "Yeah, yeah I did, though I had to do some, uh, things to get it working."

"Wait, what things?" Dipper questioned.

Stan waved off his question. "It doesn't matter. But, even though it has power, I still can't get it to...uh, how do I explain this? Well...uh, ok, this is how Stanley told me it was like back in the day...the portal is like a radio, that has AM and FM. The portal is currently on AM, which is the 'dormant state', while we need it to be on FM, so that it can 'connect' to where he is. Or, I guess in-between the two, since he's in a pocket dimension, as you said."

"Um, Grunkle Stan, how close are you to doing it?" Mabel asked.

"Uh, pretty close, just have to put the fuel in. Why?"

The trio all shared a pensive look, before Mabel stared into Stan's eyes. "Grandpa Stanley is in danger."

~!4-15-5-19/1-14-25-15-14-5/18-5-1-4/20-8-5-19-5~!

"You have to go back to Colombia to get the fuel?"

Stan had removed his glasses, setting them upon the table, rubbing the palms of his hands on his face. This stressful feeling weighting down upon his mind was beginning to take control and he was wracked with concern upon hearing that his twin would be a meal if they didn't hurry to connect the portal. He was reaching a point in his life when he was beginning to realize he was getting to old to deal with the shit he did. "Yeah, but that's were I went to jail for awhile, so I can't go back there, Mabel."

"Wait, why can't you go back?" Dipper asked.

"Never mind that; I can get the fuel, but I'm going to need a day or two if I can get who I need to do it."

"Who?" The twins questioned in unison.

"Just an old friend. They live there or at least last time I checked up on them. I'll...I'll go give them a call right now, so just give me a few minutes," Stan informed them. He didn't bothered to stick around for their replies, attempting to keep calm as he headed to the telephone. What he hadn't shared with them, was the fact that he hadn't spoken to his 'friend', since the only time he had ventured to Colombia, which was roughly 40 years ago. Though, he had gotten a letter from them about 30 years ago, informing him of the fact that the prison he had gone to was being torn down to create office buildings. He shook these thoughts from his head, picking up the phone, and licking his lips. He couldn't be sure if this number would be connected still, but it was the only number had from them. He dialed it, praying for someone to answer. A voice did, South American voice rolling into his ears. "¿Palmera Posada, en que puedo ayudarle?"

The Palm Tree Inn? It was supposed to be a fruit stand. He frowned, deciding to venture forward. "Hola ¿Se encuentra Claudine allí?"

There was a moment of silence, before the phone was hung up. He rolled his eyes. "Well, that name must mean something to you if you hang up on me."

He redialed the number, waiting for the man's voice to pick up once more. "¿Palmera Posada, en que puedo ayudarle?"

"Hola ¿Se encuentra Claudine allí?"

"...¿Quién habla?"

"Un viejo amigo. ¿Esta alli?"

"¿Ella le debe dinero?"

He rolled his eyes. Of course she owed money to people, even after all of these years. "No, solo necesito hablar con ella."

"Ella ya no se encuentra involucrada en el narcotráfico." The voice replied, an underlining tremble heard in his tone.

"Bueno, yo no trafico drogas."

"¿Es usted-?"

"Mire, ¿se encuentra o no? Tengo prisa."

"...¿Cuál es su nombre?"

"Stan."

"Espere," There was a moment of silence from the other line, as Stan anxiously waited on his end. "Ella no quiere hablar contigo."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Tengo un favor."

There was another beat of silence, before an aged, feminine voice replied. "We're not supposed to be talking, Pines."

"I know," He replied, switching to English. "I didn't know you ran a hotel now."

"It's an inn and my son answered. My son, and even my grandson, who I've attempted to keep away from my past activities," The voice bitterly replied, in her Spanish accent. "And, you never answered the question."

"I just needed a favor and I need it down within a day or two at the most."

"Didn't you hear a damn word I just said? I am no longer involved with anything illegal." She hissed, voice softening towards the end.

"Yeah, well, you owe me one, especially after you left me for the police."

"I hid what you had stolen, so I already gave you a favor." She whispered.

"You wrote to me, telling me if I needed help, then to call the number you wrote me and now I'm calling you, but you won't fucking help me."

"...alright, what do you need, amigo?"

"You remember what I, uh, stole, right?"

"...Stan, if what you're asking me what I think you are, then the answer is no."

"You don't understand; I need some within the next day or two, or I'm going to..."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Ok, you remember my brother right? The one I told you about?"

"Yeah, that Stanley twin, right?"

"He's in trouble and if I don't get those chemicals, he won't...he won't survive."

"...I suppose you wont tell me exactly what you used it for the first time around, are you?"

"I can't, Claudine. Just, I need you to hurry...please." He whispered hesitantly at the end.

"...Stan, I would do it, but they shut down that plant ages ago. The Chemical Weapons Convention, which most of the world is part of now, have actually banned making these types of chemicals and have made most countries destroy them by a certain time. Colombia apparently finished destroying it back in 2000, so I honestly don't know where I can find VX nowadays."

"What about your husband?"

"Stan, I divorced my husband over 20 years ago and last I heard was that he was living it up with some young chica in Brazil. And, he was involved with the Mafia, not chemical warfare!"

"Wait, did you say 'most' of the world?"

"...well, there is a rumor that North Korea has hold of a few batches, but that's just a rumor. I'm not going all the way to the damn place though!"

"Shit, I don't know if I can use a substitute or not for this. I need the VX for this to work!"

"...ok, what I'm about to tell you, you will never say you heard from me, ok?"

The elder man glanced around, hoping the children wouldn't come into the room. "Yeah, I won't tell anyone a word."

Her voice was barely audible, breathing into his ear. "Colombia is unaware that there is one stockpile left. It's not being used for anything bad, just for research. Maybe I can get a certain amount to you, but it's just a maybe."

He breathed out. "Thanks, I really need this, so hurry."

"I'll try my best, but the least about of days I can do this is about three days. I can't do any less and since you're banned from Colombia for even being suspected of stealing barrels the first time, then we'll have to meet up in the U.S. I'm banned from some states though, so there's certain ones I can't go to."

"Ok, which ones?"

"Are you still in Oregon?"

"Yeah."

"I can't go there."

"California?"

"No."

"Washington?"

"No."

"Dammit. Nevada?"

"No."

"Shit, Idaho?"

"Si, I can still go there."

"Boise is near the border. Four days?

"Yes, I need to go now. I swear to all that is holy though, if I end up jailed at 71, you will find yourself back in Colombian, as a prisoner." She hissed, accent thicker.

The elder man felt his heart thump painfully in his chest at the thought of returning to prison. "Adios, Claudine."

He slammed the phone back onto the jack, taking deep breathes to calm the fear he felt at her threat, heart burning with an ache he hadn't felt in years. "Not going back...not going back..."

"Grunkle Stan?" His great-nephew whispered behind him.

He startled, whirling around, heart thumping faster. He observed the trio hesitantly standing in the doorway of the room, the twins appearing concerned by his behavior, while Gideon had a hand placed over his heart, just as Stan had his. The oldest Pines found it unusual that the freckled boy mirrored his family's concerned faces, as though he had always known him. He ignored that thought though, dropping his hand, not noticing Gideon doing the same motion. "You nearly gave me a heart attack, kid!"

"Grunkle Stan, are you ok?" Mabel asked.

"Yeah, just startled me. I have some bad news though; I won't be able to get the fuel back here, until five days from now."

The three paled upon his words, Mabel crying out in disbelief. "Oh no!"

"The fuel is hard to get, so it's going to take awhile and I'm going to Idaho in about three days, so I can get. How much time do we have?"

"W-We don't know," Dipper whispered, feeling his anxiety spike more than it had in the past few days. "I-It's already been a couple of days."

"Grandpa Stanley hasn't shown up or called since then. What if h-?" Mabel began, feel tears well in her eyes.

Stanford observed the fear lining her young face, viewing himself in the 13-year-old, finding it difficult to turn away from her pain. He had been there, at a low, feeling the fear for his brother. The dangerous thoughts that sprung away in his mind about his other half's fate when he had vanished through the portal. He had pulled through though, hope of his brother coming back being returned, once he relocated one of the journals. He wasn't about to lose hope, again, though. He extended his arms, thick hands resting upon her shoulders. "Mabel, my brother is fine. If he's survived 37 years there, then he can survive five more days. Stanley is tough when he wants to be and I'm sure that he's going to be ok."

Mabel nodded, wiping her tears with a smile. "Ok, Grunkle Stan, I believe you."

Stan smiled back at his grand-niece, though her smile dropped within seconds. "Mabel?"

She seemed far away for a moment, before speaking. "If Grandpa Stanley has been there for 37 years, then why does he look all young?"

"What? What are you talking about?"

"He doesn't have white hair like you or any of the wrinkles."

Dipper gasped. "He sounded a lot younger than you, too, Grunkle Stan."

The elder man squeezed her shoulder, frowning. His hands dropped away and he left the room, calling over his shoulder. "I'll be right back."

He went down the hall, entering his darkened room. Stan flipped on the switch, heading over to the closet, and sliding the door open. Several stacked boxes were untidily set in there, buried in dust. He shifted several of the boxes out of the way, revealing the bottom row. The elder man squatted, joints creaking in protest, and he removed the lid of the box in the center. Stacks upon stacks of loose Polaroid photos were scattered inside. He riffled through the box, plucking up a close-up of Stanley from about a year before the incident, appearing surprised in the photograph, as though not expecting someone to take his picture. He left the mess there, exiting his once more darkened room, re-entering the hallway where the phone was. The twins were whispering to Gideon, though ceased doing so when they saw him. He held the photo up to his grand-niece. "Does he look like this?"

She gasped, removing it from his hands. "Yes..."

Stan squeezed his eyes shut, realization overwhelming him. "He hasn't gotten older."

"Wait, what?" Dipper asked. "That isn't possible."

The elder Pines felt a nudge of remembrance in the back of his mind, echoing words his brother had spoken in the past, though not the full details. "Pocket dimensions are in-between two worlds, so there is no time."

"L-Like when a-a demon is i-in y-you." Gideon muttered, causing the three Pines to stare at him surprise.

"Kid, what are you talking about?" Stan asked.

The freckled boy blushed, avoiding eye contact. "Uh, ummm, uhhh..."

"Demons make you stop aging," Dipper muttered, hearing Bill Cipher's voice in the distance. He wasn't sure if it was his power to hear or if the dream demon was in the Mystery Shack. He startled himself as the rest of the sentence erupted from his mouth. "Because, they are also in-between worlds when they appear."

Gideon stared into his chocolate eyes. "Y-Yeah..."

"How did you know that, kid?" Stan questioned.

"I heard it, but...how do you know, Gideon?"

The 10-year-old pale significantly, eyes widening, lips trembling. "...h-her..."

"She told you?" Mabel pushed, hand brushing against his own as as sign of comfort.

"N-No." He replied, hand straying away from her's, as he eyed her face, clearly rejecting her comfort.

"Gideon..." Dipper began slowly. "H-How long was she in y-you?"

Mabel's hand reached out to rub his quivering form, as a sign of comfort once more, but was surprised when he leaned away, closer to Dipper. She felt a flare of jealously, then frowned in confusion at this emotion coursing through her. Dipper's arm, unknowingly, brushed against Gideon's, causing Mabel to internally bristle, the jealously escalating to the need to shout at Dipper to step away. She shook her head once more, focusing on the freckled boy's stuttering statement and distant eyes. "...a-a y-year..."

The tears welled in his eyes and Stan stepped forward. Despite the fact he was visibly uncomfortable with the pudgy boy beginning to cry at the memories, he squatted before him. His hands reached, gently taking hold of Gideon's forearms. The child didn't flinch, which Stan saw as an improvement, compared when he had first regained control of his body and actions. He knew Dipper had only had Bill Cipher inside him for half a day, which actually paled in comparison to how own experience, finding it closer to the amount of time Gideon had endured. Honestly, the fact he was still operating as a human being seemed to be a miracle by all accounts. "She won't ever be inside you ever, again."

The tears rolled down his pudgy cheeks, mouth partially open, voice suggesting his gratefulness. "...t-thank y-you..."

Dipper reached out, hand grasping his shoulder. Mabel felt her jealously flare, stepping towards her brother, fists clenched. She opened her mouth, intending on releasing her feelings, but was interrupted by the soft knocking at the front door. She felt her emotions die down, somewhat repulsed her her urges, observing her great-uncle opening the front door. Stan raised an eyebrow at the person lingering in the doorway. "McGucket?"

The homeless man squeezed the hat held in his trembling hands, crooked glasses on his face. "S-Stan?"

The Oldest Pines' eyes widened at his nickname and gulped when he was overwhelmed with a strong emotion. "F-Fiddles?"

Chapter 25 End

*Spanish Translations in order of conversation:
"Palm Tree Inn, how may I help you?"
"Hi, is Claudine there?"
"Palm Tree Inn, how may I help you?"
"Hi, is Claudine there?"
"...Who is this?"
"An old friend. Is she there?"
"Does she owe you money?"
"No, I just need to talk to her."
"She is no longer involved with drug trafficking."
"Well, I don't do drugs, so it isn't a problem."
"Are you-?"
"Look, is she there or not? I'm sort of in a hurry."
"...What is your name?"
"Stan."
"Hold on. She doesn't want to talk to you."
"Tell her I have a favor."

Alright, to start off for notes of this chapter, I'll begin with that I became extremely frustrated with the direction this chapter headed in and ended up writing it three different times, before I was satisfied. I'm honestly not sure if it had to with the fact that I interrupted the plot with a set of flashbacks or another cause, but it frustrated me to no end. The Chemical Weapons Convention is actually real, with nearly 200 countries involved with it and bans chemical weapons/sets date for when to destroy them. VX is a "nerve agent", which is the most toxic of all "chemical warfare agents", originally used as pesticides. Warfare agents are used in, you guessed it, wars. In liquid form, which is the form that Stan needs for the portal in this story, it is lethal upon contact with the skin. And, finally, one reader asked me about the type of music I listen to when writing this fanfiction (I'm surprised you readers care about that type of stuff!). Typically, I listen to jazz (ranging from the old school sort to modern day) or classic rock, but lately I've been listening to Fleet Foxes, which reminds me of Gravity Falls. As always, favorites, follows, and reviews are appreciated!