Hey all! I was too busy collecting freckles from the sun and being a strange Canadian tourist in Colorado, so sorry for this wait! It's Stan time! I would offer you Stanbucks but I'm too cheep to do that. Anyways there is some mention of prostitution in here. None of the important deets yet. That's for later. I have a feeling the chapters may hover around the same word mark or expand. Not sure yet. We'll see.
As always I own nothing, Alex Hirsch is my lord and master.
He knew something was wrong with the kids, Mabel and his brother were on the chair passed out watching some weird film about penguins narrated by some British dude. The way Dipper tore through the house looking for her was painful to watch. She probably ran into Ford in the bathroom last night, if that dark bruise on her wrist was any indication, too large to be anyone but his brother's. Having six fingers wasn't always the greatest. Dipper's eyes had been wild and afraid, like he was just on the edge of losing it.
Ford had pulled him aside to talk, saying it was about Mabel. Once they were in Stan's office his older twin whirled on him, "When we're you going to tell me about Mabel's condition Stanley?" His eyes were hard and cold, his mouth a thin line.
"What are you talking about Sixer?" he rolled his eyes and took another sip of his coffee.
"The cutting Stanley! The cutting!" Ford's voice rose but wasn't quite at a full on shout yet.
"What was there to say? You think telling that little ball of sunshine cutting is bad is going to stop her?" he glared at his brother over the mug.
"We can try to help her you idiot!" Ford was now yelling. Luckily they were far enough away the kids wouldn't be able to hear.
"You think I haven't been? I spend time with her when Dipper is doing guy things with Soos or nerd things with you. I make sure the girl always has yarn to make the sweaters she's always knitting. If your version of helping her is that dark bruise around her wrist then so help me god I will beat the shit out of you," he was livid, his voice also raising into a shout.
Ford looked wounded, his shoulders slumped, "I didn't mean for that to happen." He squared his shoulders once more, "It wouldn't have if you had told me what was going on Stanley!"
"I promised the kid I wouldn't tell anyone, that it'd be our secret. The girl is terrified of what would happen if her parents found out or what Dipper would do if he found out. Hell the kid almost had a meltdown looking for his sister," Stan wasn't going to back down. He may be a lowlife but those kids mean the world to him, he wouldn't break a promise if he could keep it. They deserved that much from him.
"I think Dipper saw the bandages on her arm. I need to go get her," Ford tried to brush past him but he grabbed the back of his coat. "Stanley, let go. If Dipper questions her it might cause unneeded stress," he glared right back at his brother.
"You spending the day with her or something?" his voice was quiet now, the fight all gone.
"Yes," his reply was also soft.
"I'll look after the kid then," he moved to go put his suit on.
"What do you mean?" Ford stopped with his hand on the door.
Stan pulled the shirt on over his undershirt and began to button it, "After you take Mabel the kid's going to have a small breakdown." Without pausing he began putting the pants on and tucking the shirt into them, "Kid was ripping through the house in a panic looking for her. He loves Mabel and needs her, especially with how much distance has been between them lately."
Ford scowled and made his way out of the room without another word. Mabel told him a little bit about it then, not surprising. She wasn't depressed in what most people would call the normal way, but that was okay too. Ford would just have to realize that on his own. Making his way fully dressed to the kitchen he walked past his brother waiting at the bottom of the stairs for Mabel. They said nothing to each other as they passed. They were both bull-headed and it would take a while to deal with this, but it was manageable.
The kitchen was empty, at least that's what he thought till he realized Dipper was jammed under the table. After digging him out and sending him off to clean himself up, Stan decided he was going to need a new jacket. Luckily where the jackets were was where he told the kid to meet him. After swapping out his snot coated jacket for something cleaner from his closet, he quickly moved to his desk and rummaged through the drawers. Quickly grabbing his familiar leather gloves he tucked them into his pocket as a soft knock sounded on the door. The door swung open with a creak, Dipper's free hand on the knobb, the other jammed in his pocket. "Good, wasn't sure you were actually going to come kid," his rough voice ending in a small chuckle.
"What were you going to talk to me about it?" Dipper jammed his other hand into his pocket and scuffed his shoe on the floor.
"Go grab some of your sister's bobby pins, I'm going to teach you how to pick locks first," he rubbed his hand across his stubble covered chin. The look on Dipper's face was priceless, "She won't miss a few. I always take a couple when I'm about to," a small pause, "go on an excursion."
"Isn't lock picking illegal?" his nephew crossed his arms and gave him a look that reminded him a lot of his own brother, the look of, Stan you could do so much better than this.
"Yes but only if you get caught. Plus you can use it if your sister takes something of yours and locks it away," Mabel was known to do some pretty crazy things. Locking something of Dipper's away didn't seem so unlikely. The look shifted on the boy's face and he nodded before scampering off.
Rooting through his desk he pulled out some bobby pins he swiped from the girl last time she was here, he would need a few of his own, Dipper might only grab two, or he might grab more, better safe than sorry in his opinion. He also pulled out a couple different locks. Small huff of breaths came from his door again and he turned to see the kid with a handful of Mabel's bobby pins.
"Good work kid," Stan affectionately pushed down the kid's baseball hat. Dipper pushed the rim back up and followed after him with a smile.
The two headed outside and sat on the couch on the porch. As Stan talked about how to reshape the bobby pin, no you can't use it as is, the movies and cartoons weren't going to show you that kind of information, and how to slide it to push on the pins and turn the lock itself, Dipper listened intently. Stan did do a demonstration of course, the kid had to see how a pro did it. After popping and locking a few of the locks Dipper began to fumble with the pins trying to reshape them like Stan had. Stan felt proud, Dipper was willing to learn something from him and he felt like a million bucks. It was short lived, "Grunkle Stan, why do you wear leather gloves? They're your locks." It's true, out of habit he pulled on the familiar gloves just before getting to his lesson.
A sigh escaped him, "You remember how when Sixer came out of the portal? He was always carrying a gun around, it was habit. Some habits are ingrained over time." He paused looking at the kid, he was still struggling with the bobby pin but he finally got the shape right, he beamed up at Stan and he smiled back. "I had to do a lot of things I'm not proud of, part of that is the reason behind this particular habit," Dipper had stopped trying to turn the lock to look at him.
A small hand pressed against his arm, "We didn't watch all of it, but are you talking about when the news covered all the crimes you had committed and it took hours?"
"That was just stuff I had done in Ford's name. A lot of that stuff was done by Stanley Pines too. Some worse. I had it rough kid. I had to do what I had to survive," he stared at the leather covered digits as they slowly began to clench. "I haven't even told him half the things I had to do. I did try to be a salesman for a while, but the products were cheap, and I was only losing money. If you need cash fast, moral and legal lines tend to blur or be broken," the small hand slowly clenched in his jacket.
"You didn't..." the kid's voice trailed off and something seemed soul crushing about the way his voice faded.
"I did everything kid. You shouldn't be proud of this old man," his voice came out gruffer than he expected, and part of his heart ached.
"I won't tell anyone," the kid looked much too old in that moment. Like he wasn't fourteen going on fifteen, like he was much much older.
"Tell anyone what kid? I'm sure as hell not giving you the details. There's no way you're old enough for that kind of information," a small bark of laughter escaped him.
"Grunkle Stan, I'm young not dumb. The best kinds of illegal jobs are prostitution and murder. I honestly don't think you could kill a man. You're rough around the edges sure, but you aren't cruel," Dipper shot him a withering glare.
Stan felt his heart sink like a rock, how on God's green Earth would the kid know something like that. "Of course I'm not going to ask you about it, even if I did, you wouldn't want to talk to me about it, and I don't think I would want to hear the details," the kid went back to wiggling the pins into place in the lock.
"It-" he stopped himself, dare he speak of it, dare he dredge up parts of his past he tried to forget, the past he tried to burn in a faked fiery death? He would, "-was humiliating. Having to sink to that level. I had to prove my worth to be able to move up. Unless you have an in you got to start at the bottom. First was prostitution, then acting as their mule, eventually enough time passes and they finally let me deal. I was also robbing places on the side." The familiar sound of a lock popping was finally heard, "Again, faster this time."
A soft nod was all he got, after he popped the lock slightly faster he switched the lock in the kid's hand for another. "Why didn't you call Great Uncle Ford for help? He might have taken you in if you had explained..." the kid was soft spoken, like even he wasn't sure his words rang true.
"I tried to call a few times. I would either hang up before he picked up, or I hung up after his greeting. I couldn't talk to him. I still thought he hated me," a sigh escaped his mouth as he watched the kid work on the locks.
"I'm scared Mabel is going to leave me," Stan's head whipped to the side a little too fast, his neck cracking in protest. He winced, "She's been quieter lately. She still attacks me with glitter and tries to make everything sparkly and happy, but she talks to me less. It's scary. I know how she felt when she thought I was going to take Ford's apprenticeship."
Small hands clenched and unclenched around the lock in his lap. "Your sister loves you. I'm sure it's just the stress of high school. You're smart, like your uncle, but maybe that's what's got her down. I know I used to compare myself to Ford and I felt like such a waste of space," the kid looked up at him with misty eyes.
"But she's amazing and bright and she always makes us laugh. I always feel like I'm the worse twin, that she's going to leave me behind while I'm buried up to my ears in books. I just want things to be normal, us to be normal," the kid began to chew on his lip.
"How about this, after diner today I'll figure out a way to get Sixer out of the shack, and you and Mabel have movie night?" he rested one of his large hands on the boy's shoulder.
"Do you think she would want to? She has Ford for that now..." the kid was so glum that Stan wanted to go in there and punch his brother right in his smart-ass mouth.
"Of course, your sister loves watching movies with everyone. Heck even make a pillow fort and eat popcorn, she'd love it," a confident grin slid across his face.
Dipper sniffles and ran the back of his hand under his nose, "Thanks Grunkle Stan."
"Anytime kid, now if you don't hurry up with these locks, you'll never be able to get anything back from your sister."
So Stan time is over. But instead of cycling back to Mabel, I might go Ford then Mabel. Who knows. Anyways, let me know what you guys think! I have to power nap for my flight in like 3 hours. Fun times! Love you guys!