Chapter Text
“STANLEY! DO SOMETHING!”
Stanley Pines looked around the lab. His brother was about to be sucked into that transgate-something-or-other and he would be damned if he let him go through. Sure, they may have their problems, but they were twins .
His eyes landed on a coil of rope, not far from where he was standing, ‘God, let this be long enough.’ He dashed towards it, picking it up and flinging an end towards Stanford, “Sixer! Catch!”
Doing as told, Stanford took hold of the rope as it reached him. Putting his journal inside one of his coat’s inner pockets, he started to pull himself back towards his brother, little by little, every movement against the portal’s suction a struggle.
Once he was close enough, Stanley grabbed his brother’s hand, pulling him bodily towards himself, “How do we turn this thing off?!”
“We have to get to the lever!” Stanford grabbed a good hold of the rope, “Swing me at it! I’ll pull you!”
“I hope you know what the heck you’re doing, Ford!” Stanley let go of his brother and grabbed hold of the rope again, swinging it with all he had towards the level they had pushed during their fight.
Stanford swung with the rope, getting hold of the lever the moment it was in reach and pulled his brother, getting him to his side. “Tie some of the rope around us!” He told Stan, who nodded and did as instructed as Stanford tied the other end of the rope around the lever.
Once they were secured, the scientist started pulling on the lever, to no avail. “Crap! Stanley! It’s stuck!”
“Together then!” Stanley grabbed hold of the lever too, “On three! One!”
“Two!”
“ THREE! ” They both heaved, until with a clack the lever gave, switching the portal off.
The two brothers dropped to the ground, sitting down and panting heavily. They exchanged a glance.
“... High six?” Stanley asked, lifting his hand towards his brother, grinning.
Stanford turned towards his brother, before returning his grin and slamming his hand against his brother’s, “High six,” he chuckled, “Thank you, Stanley.”
“Hey, you’re my brother,” His twin shrugged, still grinning, “What was I supposed to do? Let you die?” He shook his head, “What did you mean earlier, anyways? That you didn’t know who you could trust?”
Stanford thought for a second, before deciding that, compared to what he had lived through these last few months, whatever problems he and his brother had had in the past were nothing , so he told him everything. How he got to the town, his findings, making his journals, his encounters with Bill Cipher, everything. He left nothing out.
And Stanley just sat there, listening. “Dang, and here I thought I had it hard. At least the people after my butt are all human…I think. A demon, seriously?”
“As close to one as I’ve ever found,” Stanford confirmed, nodding, “He labeled himself as the Lord of Chaos, and it’s the most apt title I have ever heard about…well, anyone .” He removed his glasses and rubbed at his eyes, sighing.
“So, Cipher’s still around, or…?”
“As far as I’ve found out, no. After I banished him, only someone else doing the ritual would bring him back to our dimension,” Ford explained.
“And there is no way for someone to find out about that?”
“I’m almost a hundred percent sure the only remaining source for it is one of my journals.”
Stanley looked askance at his brother, “The same journals you hid around here? Please tell me it’s the one you kept on yourself at least.”
The six-fingered man groaned, “No, it’s in journal 2.” He stood up and dusted his coat off, “I’ll go find it.”
“I’ll go with you,” Stanley stood up and looked at his brother sharply, “No more going alone for either of us; we’re stronger together.”
“In that you’re right, Stanley,” Stanford nodded, extending his hand to his brother for a handshake, “In that you’re right.”
“About time you admitted I’m right for once!” Stanley grinned, shaking his brother’s hand.
It took them a couple of hours of walking through the snow-covered forest to find where Stanford had hidden the second of his three journals. As they walked, the brothers swapped stories about what they had done since they had had their falling out. Stanley’s often ended with him somehow getting himself out of the fire by the skin of his teeth, while Ford’s sounded so crazy they couldn’t be made up.
“Wait, you’re telling me gnomes are real?”
“As real as you and me, Stanley,” Stanford nodded, looking around the forest, “Earnest fellows, but very dim-witted. We’ll probably see some during spring, they kind of hibernate during the winter.”
Stanley shook his head, “Are you sure you want me staying with you, Sixer? I do have a criminal record.”
“A criminal record that’s mostly made up of conmanship and petty theft,” Stanford pointed out, “Stanley, I have a degree in law and some contacts in the government, I’ll make some calls and see what we can do,” He shook his head, “At most I expect us to have to pay some fines.”
“I’ll make it up to you,” Stanley sighed, before getting a thoughtful frown, “How do you make money, anyways? You live all alone in the woods, away from the city.”
“Ah,” Stanford chuckled, “To be quite honest with you, Stanley, I don’t make as much money as you would think, and most of what I do goes right back into my research.”
“Ha! So we aren’t that different then!” Stanley laughed, “Say, you still thinking about making an institute of weirdness or something like that?”
“Sometimes, the idea does pass through my head, yes,” Stanford narrowed his eyes at his brother, a smirk tugging at his lips, “What are you thinking?”
“Well, you know how many tourist attractions there are in the country,” Stanley smiled, “You know, those places where they sell crappy stuff to tourists with the monster of the area,” He turned towards Stanford, his grin wide, “And you said it yourself, weirdness is this place’s bread and butter! What if we opened a “Museum of Weirdness” or something? We could give tours through the forest near your house and have some exhibits inside, with a gift shop full of replicas of some of the stuff you’ve found! We would make tons of money and it wouldn’t even be fake!”
“You know I have never been a people person, Stanley,” Stanford chuckled, “Although the idea does have merit.”
“You leave selling stuff to the masses to me!” Stanley smirked, “You could be the curator, make sure we have some new stuff every so often from your research! With the amount we could make from this, you could fund shmucks all over the world to find stuff or leads for you!”
Stanford looked around, still chuckling under his breath, “Let’s table this idea for now, we’re here,” He said, “Though I have to admit, the more I hear about this… this Mystery Shack or whatever you are planning, the more interested I get.”
“Ha! That’s as good as a yes for me, Pointdexter!” Stanley cackled, slapping his knee and putting an arm around his brother’s shoulders, “We’re gonna be rich!”
--▲--
30 years later
Mason ‘Dipper’ Pines was sitting, headphones over his ears and a book on cryptozoology open in his lap, as the Speedy Beaver covered the last few kilometers of its journey towards the small mountain town of Gravity Falls, his backpack sitting on the floor between his legs. In the seat beside him, and leaning her head on his shoulder, his twin sister Mabel slept on, small ‘mum-mum’ noises leaving her lips as she lightly snored.
He spared her a small glance and smile before looking out the window, ‘Only ten minutes left, at most.’ He shook his head and went back to his book.
Ever since he was little, his uncle Ford was his hero, the role model he wanted to grow up to be like. He was a genius with over ten doctorates, and while he had a good reputation among the main sciences thanks to some of his discoveries, his true passion was the supernatural, the strange, and the occult. He had never lost that sense of wonder about the world and everything it hid, and he had managed to pass that way of viewing the world to his grand nephew.
He had also made sure that Dipper knew from the start that his chosen path was not going to be all sunshine and rainbows. As such, since Dipper was around twelve or so, Stanford had recommended him to start going out for runs, doing exercise and having an active lifestyle in general, - “We researchers aren’t always sitting behind a desk, Mason,” He had told him, “To be honest, most of my discoveries in the occult have been made out in the field. You will need to have the body and energy to withstand long treks through the woods, or walking under a snowfall for hours.” - so he had done as told, and started exercising, and his efforts had sure paid dividends. He may not have had as much muscle as, say, Armhold Musselhugger, but he had enough to be flexible, quick, and pack enough of a punch. His uncle Stan’s boxing lessons for him and his sister had helped a lot with that last one, too.
And that was the other side of the coin. Where his uncle Ford was a genius when it came to traditional subjects, his uncle Stan was the more street-savvy of the two. He could tell at a glance at your pocket how much money you had in your wallet, pick any non-electronic lock (and some of the electronic ones, too) and could sell ice to the Devil himself. He was also the more personable of the two for the most part, meaning that where Dipper was very similar to Ford, his sister Mabel was the most similar to Stanley.
Dipper’s eyes were on his book, but he wasn’t seeing the words as his mind wandered over all this. ‘I wonder if the place is anything like their stories?’ He pondered, some of their old tales passing through his mind, ‘Uncle Ford said that Gravity Falls was like a weirdness magnet, that beings from legend made the place their home.’ For some reason, his mind's eye pictured Gravity Falls as something like The Shire, but he shook his head with a chuckle to dispel that image, ‘We’ll see when we get there, I guess.’
Looking out the window again, he managed to catch a quick glimpse of a welcoming sign that made him grin. Slipping off his headphones, he shook his shoulder to rouse his sister. “Mabel, wake up sis,” As she blinked sleepily up at him, yawning widely and stretching her arms, he smiled at her, “We’re here.”
That and the bus coming to a stop woke her up fully as a beaming smile stretched across her face. With a squeal, she jumped out of her seat, picked up her bag and ran out of the bus, with a chuckling Dipper walking more sedately behind her.
“Thanks for the lift, sir.” The fourteen year-old told the driver as he passed.
“Just doing my job, kid,” The man shook his head as he stood up, “C’mon, I’ll help you get your luggage off the trunk.”
Mabel’s scream of “GRUNKLE STAN!” from outside the bus’s let Dipper know that their escort had arrived just in time.
Getting off the bus, while the driver went to get their luggage out of the trunk, Dipper grinned and walked towards his uncle and the man he guessed to be Soos, their uncles’ handyman at the Shack.
“Geez, Mabel, let him breathe,” Dipper chuckled as he approached them, “Good to see you, grunkle Stan.”
“Dipper! Let me get a good look at you, kid” The old man grinned at his great nephew, releasing Mabel from her hug and walking towards the boy, putting his hands on his shoulders, “Look at that kiddo, you’re almost my height now! You sure shot up like a weed! You two keepin’ up with your boxin’ lessons?” He grinned at their nods, putting one of his hands on Mabel’s shoulder, the other still on Dipper. Turning with one twin under each arm, he looked towards the other man, “Kids, this big guy here is Soos. Soos, these are my great nephew Dipper and my grand niece Mabel, they’ll be livin’ at the Shack from now on.”
“Great to meet you, dawgs!” The big guy smiled at them, “Your uncles, like, never shut up about you two.”
“Nice to meet you too, Soos!” Mabel beamed, Dipper extending a fist to the handyman, who happily bumped fists with him.
Once they had gotten their suitcases out (three each between their clothes and other things they couldn’t put in their carry-on bags), the driver got back on the bus and drove off, leaving the twins alone with their great uncle and Soos.
“Well, let’s get goin’ you three,” Stan said, taking one of the twin’s suitcases on each hand, “Soos, take some of the luggage, too, will you?”
“You got it mister Pines,” The big guy did as asked, taking one each, too.
That left Dipper and Mabel with one case for each of them, so they picked their stuff and set off after their great uncle. “Where’s uncle Ford, anyways?”
“Huh? Oh, Sixer had to go see old McGucket about some machine he was building,” Stan shrugged, “Can’t remember what he told me it was called, just that it had more letters than any word should have. He’ll be back later today.” He grinned as the house came into view, “Anyways, you gremlins, we’re here! Welcome to the Mystery Shack!”
The twins’ jaw dropped as they saw the log house, then winced as the big red ‘S’ on the Shack’s sign fell off and landed on the ground with a heavy thud .
“Ah, Hot Belgian Waffles,” Stan groaned, “Again? I swear that letter’s cursed or somethin’”
“Don’t worry mister Pines, I’ll have it back up in like, ten minutes!” Soos said.
“Let me get my stuff inside and I’ll give you a hand, Soos,” Dipper said, adjusting his backpack’s strap, “It’s probably just a thing of adding some more nails.”
“Thanks, dude!”
“Yeah, let’s get you two settled in,” Stan motioned with his hand towards the house, “C’mon, I’ll show you your rooms.”
As they made their way in through the Shack’s gift shop, Dipper could have sworn some of the eyes in the jar were following him.
“You two didn’t bring any furniture?” Stan asked them.
“Nope,” Mabel shook her head, “We didn’t know how big the rooms were gonna be, so we couldn’t know if our stuff would fit.”
“Mom and dad will wire us money to buy the stuff in town,” Dipper told him, “It’s faster than them buying the stuff back in Piedmont and shipping it here to us.”
“Good thinkin’, we’ll take you into town later this week, there’s bound to be some stuff you like.” Stan nodded as they went up the stairs to the second floor and stopped in front of a door, “Well Pumpkin, this is your room.”
Mabel wowed as she opened the door. The room was bigger than her own back at her parents’ house in Piedmont, with more than enough space for her arts and crafts stuff, with her grunkles having put just one piece of furniture inside already, other than a bed and night table. An easel sat beside the huge window overlooking the campfire and grounds behind the Shack. “Grunkle Stan, it’s perfect!”
“Good you like it, sweetie,” Stan chuckled, “Bathroom’s down the hallway if you need it,” He put down one of the suitcases he was carrying and turned around with Dipper in tow, with Soos following suite, “We’ll leave you to get settled. C’mon Dipper, your room’s the next floor up.”
“The house has three floors?” Dipper asked as they made their way up.
“Yes and no, kid,” Stan told him, “We set you up in the attic. It was a lot of space just gathering dust anyways, since Pointdexter and I didn’t find anything to do with it, so it’s all yours.”
Once they were up in the attic, Dipper saw what his uncle meant. The space was narrower than Mabel’s room downstairs, but it being as long as the house made up for it. In his mind, he was already planning the room out. “I can definitely work with this,” The boy grinned, walking towards one of the windows, “Is this thing fixed?”
“Nah kid, go ahead and open it,” Stan chuckled, “As if we would put you in a room without an actual window.”
“It is an attic grunkle Stan,” Dipper pointed out with a smile as he opened the window, breathing in the mountain air, “Fresher than back in Piedmont, that’s for sure,” He put his backpack on the ground, “Nothing’s bolted to the ground, right?”
“Nope,” His uncle shook his head, “Feel free to move the stuff around kiddo, it’s gonna be your room for the next four years at least, so make yourself at home.”
“Oh, I will,” Dipper grinned, turning towards Soos, “Let me unpack a change of clothes for later and I’ll go give you a hand with the sign, Soos.”
“Sure thing, Dip,” The handyman gave him a thumbs up, “I’ll go outside and, like, tie a couple of ropes on it so we can lift it up to the sign and junk.” He left the suitcase he was carrying on the ground and left the room, humming to himself.
“Nice guy,” Dipper said, crouching down to take his laptop out of his backpack and put it down on the bed for now.
“Heh, yeah,” Stan grinned, “A bit dumb, but he’s earnest and good at what he does.” He took the case Soos had put down and set it on the bed, too, alongside the laptop and the case he himself was carrying from before.
“Is the bathroom near Mabel’s room the only one?”
“Nah, there’s another on the ground floor,” Stan told him, “We can talk with Manly Dan later and see if we can install a bathroom up here too, if you want?”
“Hmm,” Dipper hummed thoughtfully as he opened one of the suitcases and took out some clothes - a black button-up flannel shirt, a white -shirt and a pair of jeans - and laid them down on the bed, “Let’s put that as a ‘maybe’, it could be convenient, but if we can make do with just the two in the house…”
“We’ll see,” Stan nodded with a grin.
Dipper stood up and stretched his shoulders, “Well, I’ll go down and give Soos a hand.” He turned back towards Stan, “Is there any easy access to the roof?”
“You can go out your windows,” Stan chuckled at his nephew’s expression, “I’m kidding kid, Soos probably has a staircase propped up outside already.”
“Gotcha,” The boy nodded, making his way out the room, “See ya later, grunkle Stan!”
He made his way to the Shack’s front yard, where Soos was just getting done setting up the pulley on top of the sign.
“Up here, dude!” Soos waved, gesturing to his right with his head, “The stair’s over there!”
Dipper nodded up at him, took off his hoodie, leaving him in a loose fitting, short-sleeved red shirt, and climbed up, carefully walking through the Shack’s mossy roof. Soon, he found himself standing beside the big handyman between both parts of the sign, flicking his finger at the custom weathervane, “Nice,” he chuckled before turning towards Soos, “So, how are we gonna do this?”
Soos gave the rope in his hand a few test tugs and handed Dipper an electric screwdriver and some screws, “I’ll, like, pull the thing up and then you screw it in place, dawg, it’s super easy.”
Dipper looked at the Shack’s very slanted roof, “Are you sure that’s safe, big guy?”
“Sure, Dip, I’ve been doing it for years and haven’t fallen down once, just grab a good hold of the sign’s edge, ya dig?”
“If you say so,” Dipper shrugged, doing as told and holding the sign tightly.
Sure enough, it was as easy as Soos had said. The ‘S’ was very close to the edge, so Dipper didn’t even need to lean forward that much to screw the lower screws in, and the upper ones he could simply lean over the sign to put in place. All in all, it didn’t take them more than five minutes between the two of them.
“Thanks dawg,” Soos told him as they walked inside, “It usually takes me, like, twice that to stick it in place doing it by myself.”
“No problem Soos,” Dipper bumped fists with him, “I’ll ask grunkle Stan to buy some harnesses though, I think we could put some extra screws to make sure it doesn’t fall again.”
“Yeah, dude, that makes sense,” The handyman nodded, “I don’t know why we haven’t done it already.”
“Because grunkle Stan is a cheapskate and uncle Ford has a skewed sense of safety,” The teen chuckled, stretching a bit and cracking his fingers, “I’m gonna go take a shower, see ya later Soos.”
Picking up the clothes he had unpacked from his room, he made his way to the bathroom in the second floor, and just as he was reaching for the doorknob, the door swung inwards, revealing his sister toweling her hair, another towel wrapped around her torso being the only thing keeping her modesty.
“Hi, brobro!” She grinned up at him, “Shower’s free if you want.”
“Thanks, Mabel,” He chuckled, patting her head with his free hand and ruffling her hair a bit.
His twin mock-pouted, “I miss being the taller one,” She couldn’t hold back her giggles at her brother’s ministrations though, “I like this though.”
“You were only a millimeter taller!” Dipper laughed, not stopping patting her head, “And it was only for, like, a month, anyways!”
“Still counts!” She pointed at the ceiling dramatically, emphasizing her point. She could only hold the position for a few seconds, however, before the two of them broke in laughter, with Dipper pulling her towards him and hugging her to keep themselves upright.
As their laughter subsided, she playfully slapped at his chest as she regained her breath, “By the way, grunkle Stan wanted to see us, said to meet him at the gift shop.” She grinned at him again and then skipped her way back to her room.
Dipper shook his head, still chuckling a bit at his sister’s antics, “And she’s supposed to be the older one,” He said to himself as he locked the door behind him.
Quickly undressing and opening the hot water tap, he took a quick shower, mostly to remove the weariness from the six-hour long bus journey, and made his way towards the Shack’s gift shop where, just as Mabel had told him, she and Stan were waiting for him, her hair, just like his, still dripping some water.
“There you are, boy!” Stan said, “I was starting to think the shower had eaten you.”
“It tried,” Dipper nodded solemnly, making the two laugh a bit, “What did you want to see us for, grunkle Stan?”
The old man snapped his fingers, “Right! I was wonderin’ if either of ya wanted to work here at the Shack for the summer.”
The twins exchanged a quick glance and a nod, “I don’t see why not,” Dipper nodded, “What would we have to do?”
“Eh, mostly run an extra cash register, help me with the tours or givin’ Soos a hand from time to time,” Stan shrugged, “Honestly kids, the Shack gets a lot of tourists durin’ the summer season, a lot of times it’s not enough between Soos, Ford and me to keep the place runnin’, and one cash register is not enough for the amount of sales we make in a day sometimes.”
“Don’t worry grunkle Stan,” Mabel beamed, “We’ll help! When do we start?”
“Now, if ya want,” Stan smirked, “Pumpkin’, I need some help making sure the exhibitions aren’t gonna fall apart the next time someone sneezes near ‘em, and Dipper,” He threw the boy a clipboard and a pen, “I want you to do an inventory of the stuff we have for sale.”
“Sure,” He nodded, going over the list, “What do I do if we’re out of something?”
“Put down a zero and Pointdexter and I will see about gettin’ the stuff in as soon as possible,” Stan told him, “Don’t bother countin’ the eyes in the jar, by the way, somehow there’s always a different number of ‘em.” He turned towards the door and signaled for Mabel to follow him, “C’mon sweetie, we’ll start with the ones inside and then work on the ones in the forest.”
“Comin’ grunkle Stan!” Mabel followed after him, throwing her brother a cheery wave over her shoulder.
Dipper nodded and turned towards the shelves, and rolled up his sleeves, “Ok, let’s see what we’ve got.”
He was honestly surprised at the amount of different stuff his uncles had for sale. Oh, sure, there were a lot of the classic things like t-shirts and hats and with the Shack’s interrogation sign logo, but the little figurines of some of, what he assumed were, the exhibits were very well made, ‘What’s a Gremloblin, anyways?’ He wasn’t entirely sure the barrel of sticks labeled as the healing wood of Palo Santo were all real though.
So focused he was on his task that he didn’t hear the bell on the door chiming as it opened, nor the girl now behind him.
‘Now who may you be?’ The redhead thought to herself as she gave the stranger at her workplace an once over. He was tall, at least a head taller than her, with broad shoulders, a slim waist and brown hair. And a good taste in clothing, if his shirt was anything to go by, ‘Not bad,’ She nodded, smirking to herself before clearing her throat.
Dipper turned around, his eyes widening and cheeks flushing a bit as he took the girl in. Her long red hair, green eyes, cute freckles and slim yet curvy frame was definitely doing things to him. He cleared his throat himself and licked his dry lips, “Hi, sorry but we’re closed, come back tomorrow.”
“I know we’re closed, dude,” She chuckled, extending her hand, “I’m Wendy, I work the cash register.”
“Oh!” He took her offered hand and gave her a firm shake, “Nice to meet you then, I’m Dipper.”
“Dipper?” She raised an amused eyebrow.
The boy rolled his eyes good-naturedly, a grin on his lips as well, “It’s a nickname, but honestly I use it a lot more than my actual name.”
“Fair enough,” Wendy shrugged, “Say, I’ve never seen you around town, you new here?”
Dipper nodded, “Just arrived like an hour ago,” He told her, “Me and my sister came to live with our great uncles and we’ll stay here for highschool.”
“Oh, cool!” She grinned at him, “Town’s small, but lively, I’m sure you two are gonna love it here.”
“I already do,” He smiled down at her, “Fresh air, nice views, and less heat than back in Piedmont.” He said with a chuckle.
They kept chatting for a while while Dipper kept working, with Wendy telling him about the town and the local people while he told her about his life back in California.
“Honestly, puberty did me a big favor,” He smirked, “Until last year I was a twig about as tall as your elbow.”
“No way, dude,” Wendy’s jaw dropped, looking him up and down, “You’re kidding me, right? You’ve got to be kidding me!”
“It’s true!” He laughed out, “I outgrew my whole wardrobe in a couple of months,” He rolled his shoulders a bit, “Come to think of it, this shirt’s starting to feel kinda tight too.”
“Bet your parents loved that,” She shook her head, chuckling herself, “Did the same happen to your sister?”
“Kinda,” He nodded, taking off his flannel shirt and jotting down something on the clipboard before they moved down the aisle, “Just, you know, instead of upwards…”
“Her curves came in,” Wendy nodded, sneaking a glance at the boy’s tight-fitting t-shirt, “She must have been happy.”
“Yup,” He sighed, shaking his head, “She was boy-crazy long before puberty hit us, but she calmed down a bit after she… developed, ” The next bit he almost growled, “That some guys don’t know when to stop, helped with that.”
“Don’t I know it,” She muttered, before turning her eyes back towards his face, “I’m guessing you didn’t let that stand?”
“Nope,” He chuckled, “No one wants to mess with the sister of the guy that’s almost a foot taller than the next tallest guy in class.”
“Yeah, I bet you were also the broadest,” She put her hands on his shoulders, “You’ve got, what, twenty inches?”
“Tw-Twenty-one, actually,” He stammered, his cheeks flushing at her proximity.
She whistled lowly, “Seriously, what did your parents feed you dude?”
“It runs in the family,” He shrugged half-self-consciously.
She let her hands drop, giving him a friendly punch on the shoulder, “Don’t be embarrassed, Dip! Most guys would do anything to have ‘em!”
He shook his head with a smile, “Thanks for the compliment, Wendy.”
She gave him a smirk, which he returned with a grin until the chiming of the bell as the door opened caught their attention. A tall, broad shouldered old man in a brown coat and red turtleneck stood there, a warm smile spreading his lips as his eyes fell on Dipper.
“Uncle Ford!” Dipper beamed, walking towards his uncle and giving him a hug, “It’s great to see you!”
“Mason!” The scientist smiled, returning his nephew’s hug before gently pushing him away, looking him over, “Look at you! It won’t be long before I have to start looking up at you !” He noticed the other teenager looking at them with her eyes wide and her jaw on the ground, “Ah, I see you’ve met miss Corduroy,” He nodded at her with a gentle smile, “How have you been?”
“I-” Wendy shook her head, “We’ve been fine, Doc Pines,” She smiled before turning towards Dipper with a smirk, “So, ‘Mason’? And how come you didn’t tell me you were my bosses’ nephew, dude?”
He scratched the back of his head, chuckling, “I did tell you Dipper was nickname,” Then he returned her smirk with one of his own, “And I didn’t tell you because you didn’t ask.”
Ford chuckled at the little exchange, “It’s good to see you two getting along,” He looked at the clipboard Dipper was carrying, “What’s that, my boy?”
“Oh? Ah!” Dipper showed him the list, “Grunkle Stan kind of hired me and Mabel a little while ago, he asked me to do the inventory while he and Mabel went over the exhibits and made sure they weren’t falling apart.”
“Ah, he did mention he was going to do that this morning,” The six-fingered man nodded, “Well, don’t let me keep you two, I’ll go see how my brother’s doing and say hello to your sister.”
“Way ahead of you, Pointdexter,” Stan said as he and Mabel came in through the backdoor, the girl rushing towards her other uncle and giving him a hug, “The Cycloptus’s starting to deflate, by the way.”
“I’ll see if I can get it inflated again, or replace it if I can’t,” Ford nodded at his brother as he patted Mabel’s back, “It’s good to see you, sweetheart.”
Dipper handed Stan the clipboard, “We’re running low on the bigger sizes of t-shirts and the snowglobes,” He smirked at his uncle, “And one of the Palo Santo sticks still has needles on it.”
“Darn it,” Stan snapped his fingers with chuckle, “I knew I was forgetting somethin’,” He noticed the redhead in the room with them, “Wendy, you’re here, good, only missin’ Soos now and we can start.”
“Missing me for what, mister Pines?”
“There you are Soos,” He smirked at the big handyman, “Okay, let’s get the more serious stuff out of the way first,” He put a hand on the twins’ shoulders, “Wendy, Soos, you already met Dipper and Mabel, they are gonna be livin’ here at the Shack for at least the next four years while they go to high school in town, and they’ll work here during the summers helpin’ around, mannin’ a second register if there’s too much people or helpin’ me with the tours.”
“Gotcha, mister Pines,” Wendy grinned, then turned towards Mabel, “Your brother told me about you, girl, I’m Wendy.” She extended her hand to the shorter girl with another grin.
“Nice to meet you, Wendy!” Mabel beamed, shaking the redhead’s hand energetically.
“Yeah, yeah, you’ll have time to get to meet each other later,” Stan chuckled, “Now, the holiday season starts tomorrow, and you lot know what that means.”
“We’ll be, like, flooded with tourists, right?” Soos said.
“Right in one, Soos,” The professional conman nodded at the handyman, “Mabel and I went over the exhibits and they’re all in good enough shape, and Dipper counted the stuff we had in the gift shop,” He turned towards his brother, “Think you can get us anything new for the museum, Sixer?”
“Not right away,” Ford shook his head, “But I’ve been looking into some anomalies and some leads I have found, so we should have something before the month is out.”
“Good enough for me,” Stan nodded, then looked at Wendy and pointed behind him, “Wendy, you know these woods better than Ford, the normal parts anyways, I need you to put up some signs,” He gulped as if he was about to puke from his next words, “I’ll even- ugh, I’ll give you some overtime pay for it.”
“Sure,” Wendy shrugged, “I had nothing better to do the rest of the day.”
“Mind if I tag along?” Dipper said as the group dissolved, shrugging on his flannel shirt again, “I wanted to start mapping a route for my morning run, and who better to guide me than a local?” He smiled slightly.
“Sure, dude,” She grinned at him, “The more the merrier.”
So they went into the house’s backyard, picked up the stack of signs, the hammer and the nails, and set off into the forest, stopping every so often to carefully hammer a sign without damaging the tree much - Wendy’s choice - or for her to give him some directions for his morning jog, chatting about something or other along the way. Their favorite movies (Z-class horror movies, so bad they were hilarious), music tastes (she liked some pop bands, he preferred orchestral, though they both agreed with liking soft rock), and some stories from their past (though Dipper still hadn’t told her where his nickname came from).
They spent a while like that, just chatting and joking as they worked, until finally they were almost done, only one last sign left.
“Okay dude, just hold it still and I’ll nail it,” Wendy told him, “A bit higher, tilt it a bit, perfect!” She grinned, putting the nail in place and hammering.
CLANK .
The two exchanged a confused glance at the noise, “Huh?”
Dipper knocked on the tree trunk, dropping the sign. “It’s hollow,” He said, “I know uncle Ford told me Gravity Falls was strange, but this is ridiculous!”
“Dipper, man, my dad’s a lumberjack and I’m pretty sure metal trees aren’t a thing,” Wendy shook her head.
“Then what…?” Dipper tilted his head to the side in confusion, rubbing his hand along the tree, “Wait a minute,” He grabbed hold of a thin cut between two parts of the trunk and pulled, revealing a hidden door and the compartment inside.
“Dude, what is this?” Wendy asked, looking inside from over his shoulder.
“Looks like an old radio receiver,” Dipper told her, inspecting it, “Wonder what these switches are for?” He pulled on one, and they both turned around at the mechanical sound behind them, “What the-?” A hidden compartment had opened in the ground behind them.
“Let’s take a look Dip,” Wendy told him, unsheathing her hatchet from her back just in case as she walked towards the hole, Dipper by her side.
They leaned over the edge to take a peek. “A book?” Dipper asked, reaching inside and lifting it. It was, in fact, a book. Covered in ages of dust, cobwebs and grime, but still a book. He exchanged a glance with Wendy and blew on its cover, revealing a golden symbol of a six-fingered hand with the number 3 written in black ink.
“Six fingers?” Wendy arched an eyebrow, “Think it’s doctor Pines’s?”
“Maybe,” Dipper nodded, opening it and squinting at the text written inside, “Yup, definitely uncle Ford’s, I would recognize his handwriting anywhere.”
“What’s it doing all the way out here though?” She asked confusedly, “I would think he would want to keep it with him.”
“No idea,” Dipper shrugged, picking the book up and putting it under his arm, “Let’s get back to the Shack, I’ll ask him.”
“Good idea, dude,” She nodded at him, taking the lead and setting off at a jog, “C’mon, the sooner we get back, the sooner I can get my money from Stan.”
Dipper laughed at her words, running after her.
They arrived at the house much faster than the time it had taken them to find the book, and they found Stan waiting for them outside, “Took you long enough,” He grumbled, “You put ‘em all up?” He grinned at their nods before he noticed the book under his nephew’s arm, “Whatcha got there, kiddo?”
Dipper showed him the book, watching his uncle’s eyes widen a bit at it, “Is uncle Ford inside? I’m pretty sure this is his.”
“Yeah, he’s readin’ in the living room,” Stan nodded towards the house while reaching for his wallet, “Right down the hallway. Wendy, I’ve got your overtime pay right here.”
Wendy nodded at him and turned to Dipper with a grin, “Tell me what he says dude!” She told him, slipping him a bit of paper, “I’ll have to run home, it’s my turn to cook dinner today.”
“See you tomorrow then, Wendy,” He smiled, bending down to plant a chaste kiss to her cheek, prompting small blushes from both of them and getting a playful punch to his shoulder in return.
He chuckled and made his way inside, sending a last wave over his shoulder towards her. Once inside, he walked towards the living room, taking a look at some of the souvenirs and pictures his uncles had gotten over the years. One of the two of them in their thirties, fighting what looked like a giant squid while in a ship catching his eye for a moment, “Will have to ask them about that one sometime,” He muttered to himself.
He shook his head and continued on, finding his uncle right where Stan said he would be, reading in the living room. He snuck a glance at the book’s cover, Lost Artifacts of the Ancient Cultures by H. I. Jones.
“Good book, uncle Ford?” He asked, getting his uncle’s attention.
“Ah, Dipper!” The man smiled, nodding, “Yes, quite interesting. Professor Jones has some interesting theories about the possible locations of certain artifacts, if they were to exist. For example, he proposes that some of the items described in ancient Norse myths, like Mjolnir or Gungnir, may be somewhere in Mesoamerica, basing himself on the fact that Kukulcan, or Quetzalcoatl if you prefer, was described when in human form as being of fair skin and light hair and eyes, while his snake form would match some descriptions of the viking Drakkar,” His eyes fell to the book under his nephew’s arm, widening as his smile broadened, “I see you have found some interesting reading yourself, my boy.”
“Yeah, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Dipper chuckled, extending the book to him, “Wendy and I found it in the forest while putting up some signs for grunkle Stan. I’m pretty sure it’s yours.”
“It is, Mason,” He nodded, taking hold of the book, “This is my third journal on the oddities, anomalies and other strange events I recorded during my research here in Gravity Falls,” He put his hand on top of the symbol on the cover, a nostalgic smile on his face. Closing his eyes and nodding, he handed it back to Dipper, “I want you to have it,” He raised his hand to stop his protests, “It will see more use in your hands, Mason, than sitting in one of my bookshelves gathering dust,” His eyes almost twinkled for a moment, “Consider it your first step into becoming a researcher like me.”
“I- Uncle Ford, I don’t know what to say,” Dipper shook his head, opening the journal and reading a bit into it.
“There are no thanks necessary, my boy,” Stanford shook his head, “I know you’ll use the information I gathered well.”
“I will,” Dipper looked up at him with a grin, before going back to his reading and frowning for a moment, “Uh, uncle Ford? What did you mean ‘Don’t trust anyone’?”
“Ah,” Stanford chuckled, a bit embarrassed, “I’m afraid that when I wrote that journal I wasn’t in the healthiest state of mind and was quite paranoid, I would recommend you ask me if you’re ever in doubt about some of the advice I wrote in it.”
“Got it,” The boy nodded, absorbing his uncle’s words, “Well, I’ll go unpack my stuff and start reading up in my room, see you later, uncle Ford!”
“See you later, my boy,” Stanford went back to his seat, before raising his head, “Oh, and Mason?” He grinned at his nephew as he stopped and looked back, “When we go looking for furniture for you and your sister, I would suggest you look for a lamp with an UV setting, you’re going to need it,” He laughed at the boy’s groan, “You didn’t seriously expect me to make it that easy, did you?”
--▲--
That night after dinner, Dipper picked up his phone once back in his room. The first thing he did was save Wendy’s number that she had given her in that slip of paper, sending her a quick message for her to get his number saved, too. Then picked up the journal and leafed through it, looking at his uncle’s artwork of the different beings he had recorded in it. After he was done, he took a pen out of his backpack and started to write.
Dipper Pines’s first entry in Professor Stanford Pines’s Journal 3.
I’m writing this at 8 P.M. on the night of my and my sister’s first day living in the (supposedly) strange town of Gravity Falls.
No sighting of cryptofauna nor cryptoflora that I’ve managed to recognize as of yet. Uncle Ford says that that’ll be sure to change as time goes on, however, because the area is, in his words, “A concentration point of highly anomalous energy.” Or, in Grunkle Stan’s words, “A city-sized weirdo magnet.”
Although my walk through the woods didn’t give results in the occult department, I managed to make a new friend in the form of Wendy Corduroy, the Mystery Shack’s cashier and the local lumberjack’s daughter. I’m hoping she agrees to help me as I follow uncle Ford’s footsteps in my own research around Gravity Falls.
Uncle Ford is going to take us into town tomorrow if there aren’t too many tourists at the Shack. I’m hoping to buy some extra clothes on top of the furniture we’re going to need for our rooms. My current wardrobe is all well and good for everyday, but if I’m going to start walking through the woods for long stretches of time, they aren’t going to cut it. (Consider asking Wendy for help with that too.)
My journey into unearthing the secrets of Gravity Falls is just starting, but I know I have many people around me who will have my back; My sister Mabel, grunkle Stan and uncle Ford, and I’m hoping even Soos and Wendy.
I’ll just have to wait and see what this town will throw at me tomorrow.