The Mystery Shack was closed. Wendy and Soos had been sent home, unceremoniously. Soos moreso, with a shoe being thrown at him when he refused to leave without an explanation.

Wendy had dragged him out then.

Now, Stan sat at the breakfast table. The blinds had all been drawn, white translucent curtains hanging dead and limp from above the windows. Like reaching ghosts, they only move when somebody gets too close to them.

Ventilation airways had all been tightly sealed. Doors locked, all remotely triangular objects or images covered or turned over in some discreet way. Sigils carved into the wood long ago, deep in the corners of the walls, had been activated. Just in case. After all, a reunion after a hundred and thirty two years was nothing if not unpredictable.

But Stan made sure nobody would be listening in to this particular conversation.

"So, heh," Stan said gruffly. He cleared his throat, drops of sweat rolling down his face. "You found me, finally."

Garnet stepped forward. "We need them, Stan."

"No. Up-pup-pup," he shoved a hand at Garnet's face. "I know. I saw the news. And no."

Amethyst couldn't take it anymore. She roared, slamming her hands forward on the table like the cops in those soap operas Steven insisted on watching. "YOU!" she yelled, channeling a little bit of Purple Puma. "YOU CAN'T KEEP THEM FOR YOURSELF - YOU TOOK THEM - YOU LITTLE - AARRGH!"

She kicked the table and it soared, bottles of syrup and plates flying off as if abandoning ship. The various condiments landed on the ground, bounced a couple of times before settling itself on the dusty floorboards. Their caps popped open and regurgitated their sticky sweet contents. A few plates Pearl had not been able to save followed in a much louder, cracking fashion.

Garnet acted fast and grabbed a leg of the table before it could reach the ceiling. "Amethyst, control yourself! We do not want to weaken the construction."

Pearl made a face. The number of dirty plates she had managed to catch on the tip of her spear was set down gracefully in the sink.

Meanwhile, Stan sat in his chair, completely unfazed, making no move whatsoever to direct the attention from himself.

"They are not something that I 'keep', Amethyst," her jaw tightened at hearing her name, eyes narrowing. "I had a better reason for taking them with me than you do for keeping them with you," Stan said calmly. The other two gems in the room looked confused. Ah. She had not told them then. Yet they travel together?

"BUT YOU MADE THEM- you made them..." Amethyst faltered. Her face darkened, blotchy spots of indigo coloring her cheeks. She had to admit, despite her childish sense of possession, "You healed them."

Pearl's icy blue eyes widened. A scowl formed beneath Garnet's shades.

"What are you implying?"

"Amethyst, you knew Artemis and Apollo?"

"No!" the purple gem and, surprisingly, Stan growled in tandem. They blinked and looked at each other for a moment before their looks turned back to glares.

"You listen close, hear, you 'Crystal Gems'," Stan continued. His form flickered slightly, revealing metallic gold armour over his Mister Mistery outfit. "They are not Artemis, or Apollo. They're Sunny and Crescent, alright? Mabel, and Dipper. They're not -" Stan stopped himself, blood rushing loudly in his ears.

Pearl laughed, a bead of sweat sliding down the side of her face. "Don't be silly, Pyrite, they're obviously... Obviously -"

"Don't call me that," Stan said. Pearl inhaled sharply and fell silent. He looked at Garnet's shades for a bit, when the silence in the room reigned like a persistent humming sound that grew louder and louder until he spoke again. "You know what you did," he said, gravelly voice going lower than meant for human ears. Good thing they were aliens. "You know why I left. You know why I pretended to be dead for all these years. All ever asked was for you to leave me, and my kids alone, and you couldn't even do that?"

"They're not your kids!" Pearl blurted out.

Stan stood up, banging his hands on the now-bare table. Outside, he could hear the faint, muffled sound of the golf cart engine. "No," he said, shooting one last laser glare to each of the gems. "Not by blood, or by gem, or whatever you want to call it. But they are my family, and I'm not going to let you drag 'em off into some war they can barely remember! Got it?"

The last of the daggers from his eyes were directed at Amethyst, who shook in sorrow, shame and guilt.

Stan walked past them, unlocking the front door and stepping out onto the patio.

"Grunkle Stan! Grunkle Stan!"

"You would not believe what Steven just did!"

"Wait, Stan!" Pearl pushed uncharacteristically harried past Garnet. She caught up to the old man, who had placed a carefully constructed mask of indifference over his face. "I just wanted to say... That I, we, I'm sorr-"

"Save it, Pearl. You had your chance," Stan waved his greeting as the kids all rushed past them inside. From the corner of his eyes Stan could see Amethyst storming off to god-knows-where out the window, and even Garnet had a hard time staying calm sitting across from the twins on the slightly off-set dining table. Only when he was sure his face was turned away did his expression darkened. "And you blew it."