HAT: This is gonna be short and focuses more on Stanford than Stanley, but it'll go back to our favorite Grunkle soon, I promise. Anyway, enjoy!
Disclaimer: If I owned Gravity Falls, Stanford would be used in the Mystery Shack to trick people once at least. Oh, yeah, disclaimer. I don't own Gravity Falls.
"How's Grunkle Stan?" Mabel and Dipper ask at the end of the day.
They'd finished up at the time their grunkle normally would and had gone immediately to said grunkle's room to check up on him and managed to catch Stanford as he closes the door after himself with the trashcan at hand.
Stanford grimaces when the smell hits him and holds the trashcan away from himself. "He's really sick."
They get a whiff of the contents and back up a few steps and plug their noses while making cries of disgust.
"How'd he get sick?" Mabel asks.
Stanford shrugs. "Like anyone else. His immune system couldn't handle whatever got him like it normally would. Now he's sick and you two have to take over the shop until he gets better."
"Or... you could pose as Grunkle Stan!" Mabel says, remembering last time she took over the shop.
Stanford shakes his head. "Nooo, thank you. I'll stick with cleaning up after Stan... unless you wanna clean his throw up?"
"Yuck!" Dipper and Mabel chorus and back away when the trashcan is held out to them.
"I think we'll just work in the Shack," Dipper grumbles.
"Give Grunkle Stan a kiss for me!" Mabel says cheerfully.
"I don't-"
"Please, Great Uncle 'Ford?" She asks with big puppy-dog eyes.
He tries to resist, but it's too cute and innocent. "Okay," he sighs. "Fine. I'll give him a kiss for you."
"Thank you, Uncle 'Ford!" Mabel chirps and then pulls her brother down the hall. "We've gotta restock the shelves!"
"Slow down, Mabel!" Dipper shouts.
Stanford shakes his head and then goes into the kitchen and cleans out the trashcan and then adds a plastic bag so that he won't have to do it anymore. He goes back into his brother's room and finds him there still asleep. He should be asleep for the next hour at least with the sedative that Stanford gave him. Maybe he went a little overboard, but with the way he was acting, it's a wonder he hadn't thrown up a second time.
Stanford sits next to his brother and gently runs his fingers through his brother's surprisingly soft hair. It always amazes him just how soft his brother's hair is. Stanley always took better care of his hair than any other Pines male that Stanford knew and he can feel that it's still the case. He's always loved playing with his twin's hair despite how much the latter would protest and this is- and he'll never admit it aloud- one of the things he's missed over the part forty years- playing with his brother's hair and having said brother halfheartedly fighting back.
"Oh, and this is from Mabel," Stanford says, lowering himself and giving his brother a kiss on the temple awkwardly- he's still not used to showing affection. Stanford leaves to get some medicine from the bathroom and comes back to find Stanley sitting up. Stanford walks forward and checks his eyes with a flashlight that it's really Stanley and he's shocked that he's awake. "How're you awake?"
"I've been drugged before," he answers vaguely and groans.
Stanford makes a face and opens his mouth to ask, but stops himself when he remembers the conversation that occurred before he was pushed into the portal. Three different prisons, chewed his way out of the trunk of a car, and he had a mullet. That mullet was a huge clue that his brother had been going through a lot since the Pines men's hair is the best way to tell how they are doing and that mullet was screaming that he had gone though a lot and he was at a low point.
"How's your stomach?" He says instead.
A groan. "Still hurts, but I'm better now."
"Here, have some crackers," Stanford grumbles as he opens the package and hands his brother the saltine crackers.
Stanley sits up a bit and begins to eat the food with a somber look on his face.
He hadn't meant to go completely berserk earlier when he was thinking of his mom, it just happened. Another reason why he absolutely hates the blue moons that he's sick. He just needs to calm down and not think about anything that's happened over the past four decades of his life until after he's done being sick and then he can shove it back as much as he wants.
"Why're you doing this? I thought you hated me or something," Stanley asks casually and then blows his nose and looks at the clear snot in disgust. "Ugh..."
"I don't hate you... I don't like you, but I don't hate you," Stanford assures. "Besides, I don't the kids area ready to take care of you."
Stanley scoffs and this ends in a coughing fit and he ends up rolling over his brother and throwing up in the trashcan. "Oh... I feel like crap."
"You look it, too. Here, drink."
The sick twin drinks the ginger ale and curls into a ball. "You don't have to do this. I can take care of myself."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Stanford grumbles. "Get some sleep."
"Don't tell me what to do," Stanley grumbles sleepily.
Stanford rolls his eyes, remembering a time when that was said playfully all the time to advertisements telling them to go out and buy stuff. It became a bit of a joke between them.
"Don't tell me not to tell you what to do."
Stanley goes to sleep with a smile at his brother remembering that old joke.
HAT: Short, I know, but the next chapter is a bit... weird (and possibly short), but after that-
Stanley: *covers her mouth* I thought no one was supposed to know the plot?
HAT: *pushes his hand off* Oh, yeah, sorry. Thanks, Stan.
Stanley: No problem.
HAT: *hands him a dollar*
Stanley: Review!
HAT: Why are you my favorite character?
Stanley: I've got the best lines in the show and you love suits?
HAT: ... yeah, pretty much.