Stanford sat at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee in his hands that stopped steaming with heat about fifteen minutes ago, and still he couldn't muster up the will to drink it, even though he hadn't slept a wink all night.

He supposed it was a combination of leftover realization that he survived that whole ordeal yesterday, and the mulling over of points he hadn't considered before…well…before he overheard the twins in their room.

Initially, he was going up to talk to Mabel and possibly reiterate their conversation down in the basement, but he heard the twins talking, and couldn't help but listen in through the cracked door. He found his lips twitching up into a smile when Dipper recanted the story, but the smile fell right off when Dipper exclaimed the revelation that he almost died, and went on to say he's never been so scared in his life.

He overheard Mabel's encouragement, and Dipper's self-doubt, and then the statement that MABEL would have done much better on the mission than Dipper did. Examples included. And then…

"I think…Great-Uncle Ford expects me to know more than I actually do. And…I don't wanna let him down or anything…"

His heart dropped. Is THAT what Dipper really thought? Honestly and truly, if Dipper had TOLD him he didn't feel comfortable using the magnet gun...

Mabel's response gave him pause.

"A crotchety old man once told me that things don't go right if there's no communication about the prospect beforehand. If you don't think you're ready for something like that, TELL HIM."

Good, wise words, they were. But wait, 'crotchety old man'? Who…?

…Stanley? But when would—?

Oh.

He didn't stick around after that. He headed down around the time they were hysterically laughing about something, and he'd been mulling over it ever since.

He sighed, finally taking a sip of his coffee, not caring an iota that it was lukewarm, then headed outside to watch the sunrise, hoping a bit of fresh air would help calm his mind.

It was certainly a nice experience. He couldn't remember the last time he watched the sunrise, even though when he DID sleep he got up early enough to see it. Perhaps he DID spend a little too much time down in the basement. He sipped his coffee again, debating going in for a hot refill.

A soft commotion in the kitchen gave him pause, and he peeked around the screen door to listen.

"—looks like Great-Uncle Ford left the door open," Mabel's voice chirped up, sounding more chipper than any kid should this early. A noncommittal, sleep-deprived grunt from Stanley answered.

"Prolly left early for some weird paranormal research sh…stuff," Stan said, hurriedly getting coffee before his verbal filter decided to fail again. He filled a cup and sat down at the table, sipping it. "So, we know why I'm up early, what's your excuse?"

Mabel tugged out a container of her Mabel Juice, pouring herself a glass. "I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep," she replied, shrugging. She sat across from Stan, sipping it. "I was just thinking."

"That WOULD make you stay up," Stan said, taking another sip of coffee. "Anything in particular, or…?" He waited as Mabel kicked her feet and chewed her lip. "…Sweetie?"

Mabel sighed, blowing a lock of hair from her face. "…Grunkle Stan…" she began delicately, as though treading carefully as to not upset him. "…what's going to…where are you gonna go when summer ends?"

Stan lowered his coffee cup, frowning, his jaw twitching as it normally did when he had to think of something to say on the fly. "What do you mean?" he asked, keeping his voice light. "I'm gonna stay here, you know that."

Mabel shook her head, her hands flexing around her glass. "…Grunkle Stan…I…overheard you…that day Great-Uncle Ford came out of the portal," she said quietly. "…about…how the Mystery Shack is gonna close for good."

There was a thick, heavy silence that was broken only by birds and cicadas. Stan swallowed hard, looking horribly trapped for a few long moments before he sighed heavily. "Mabel…sweetheart…that's not for you to worry about, okay?" he said, giving her a brave smile. "Your old Grunkle Stan knows how to take care of himself."

"I know," Mabel said. "…But you've taken care of yourself for so LONG! And you've taken care of Soos, and Wendy, and me and Dipper…you've even taken care of Great-Uncle Ford!" She huffed, putting on her 'Mabel's Gonna Do Good' face. "So it's time YOU were taken care of too!"

Stan didn't know whether to laugh or cry, knowing either response would probably put Mabel in a tizzy. He instead rubbed his face, trying to think of a response…and was coming up with nothing. "…You're…somethin' else, Mabel," he said, smiling. "You really are."

Mabel's righteous look didn't fade. In fact, it only brightened. "Omigosh!" she gasped, her hands flying to her face. "BEST. IDEA. EVER." She beamed, her braces glinting brightly. "COME BACK TO CALIFORNIA WITH ME!"

Stan's loud yelp of "WHAT?!" easily droned out Ford's from outside.

"Mabel, sweetie, are you serious?" Stan asked, not really knowing the proper response for that. "I mean…I couldn't just—"

"Psh, of COURSE you could!" Mabel exclaimed. "If Dipper's gonna stay here, that means we have a free room back at the house! And Dad says you're his favorite uncle in the WHOLE WORLD! It's PERFECT!" She hopped up from her chair and ran over to hug him. "Not to mention…it would mean neither of us would be alone," she continued softly.

Stan swallowed hard, hugging Mabel back tightly. "…how on earth did I get so lucky to have a great-niece as wonderful as you?" he asked, mostly to himself. Mabel squeezed him tighter.

"Good karma," she replied sagely. "It came to you because you're the best Grunkle in the world, bar NONE."

Ford sat back on the couch, feeling as though he'd been drop-kicked in the chest for several reasons. He had no intention of the kids overhearing that conversation from that first night…but he also didn't recall telling Stanley that HE had to leave, so why would—

Ugh. Of all the times to be a vague obtuse ass…but honestly, he was miffed about the portal, not a heartless monster. Why would Stanley think he would kick him out of his home for the past thirty years with just a few weeks' notice?

"You care more about your dumb mysteries than your family!"

Ford shook his head, THAT particular memory coming unbidden and unwanted. But it was perhaps the very thing he needed to hear. Stanley thought he was kicking him out because he thought Ford cared more about the weirdness around Gravity Falls than him.

What was it Mabel said? 'Things don't go right if there's no communication about the prospect beforehand'? And apparently Stanley had been the one to tell HER that.

Ford rubbed his face, muffling a sigh of weariness. Perhaps it was WAY overdue for one big ENTIRE family talk.