Hello all and welcome to my first Gravity Falls fic. Like you all, I was both ecstatic and extremely frustrated by Not What He Seems so what do I do? I write about it. Obviously, big spoilers for NWHS so don't read this if you haven't watched it. Anyways, enjoy!

Dipper watched the stranger as he approached them, picking up one of the journals on the way.

"What? Who is that?" Dipper asked.

"The author of the journals. My brother."

Dipper could only gawk in confusion as Stan pulled himself to his feet, staring in disbelief at the brother he hadn't seen in thirty years. It worked. Stanley had survived it. But judging by the beaten eye gear and worn cloak, it hadn't been an easy one. His hair was matted, and the wrinkles in his skin seemed all the more pronounced by the dirt and grime in them.

He stared into his brother's eyes, trying to read his expression but he couldn't. All the ticks and facial quirks Stan remembered of his brother were gone: replaced by a stoic, cold expression. Suddenly, Stan realized how much he missed. Anything they had in common, anything that they had shared had faded into distant memory a long time ago. What could he say to fix it?

Stan suddenly realized how long their silence was. His hand, which had been rubbing the back of his neck, came forward in offering of peace.

"Lee," he said, his eyes widening in hope.

Stanley stopped in front of his brother. He looked down at Stan's hand, then up to his face. Something seemed to pass across Lee's face but Stan was still trying to comprehend it as his brother walked straight by, up and out of the cellar.

After watching his brother leave, Stan sighed. Dipper and Mabel watched the exchange with curious gazes and raised eyebrows. Seeing an opportunity, Dipper approached his uncle.

"What's going on here?" Dipper demanded, a touch of ferocity in his voice.

"Kids, you better go to your room." Dipper glared at him. "I promise I'll explain everything soon. I just…I just need to talk to him first." Stan's gaze followed where his brother left.

Dipper pushed again but Mabel was at his side, shaking her head, gently coercing him away.

"We'll give you two some time," she said, taking Dipper and a disoriented, but now conscious again, Soos, upstairs.

Stan stood in the wreckage of the cellar, wondering what to do. What to say. He had focused so hard on getting everything to this point but he never thought about what he would say to his brother once he came back. Or if he would even come back. He had lied awake so many nights wondering if his brother was even still alive. And here he was, back in the flesh, completely, agonizingly, alive.

Finally, he decided that there was no amount of preparation for this and went up to find him.

While looking through the house for his brother, Stan saw a silhouette outside the window. Running to the door, he wrenched it open and found his brother staring at the scene around him. He didn't turn around but evidently heard Stan's exit from the house.

"Do you have any idea how long it's been since I've seen colour?"

"Thirty years, twelve days, and sixteen hours. Yeah. I remember," Stan replied. They stood in silence as the wind whipped by them. Stan rubbed the back of his neck again, looking, but not looking at his brother. "You didn't exactly make it easy for me, you know. It wasn't easy finding those journals. Particularly yours."

"You know what would have happened if those journals fell into the wrong hands."

"Don't I know it," Stan commented, thinking back on Gideon's crazy schemes.

"But you brought them back," Lee said but Stan couldn't quite figure out his brother's tone. "You brought them to light again and who knows who might find them now. You should have just kept them hidden." Lee's voice grew angrier with each word. "You saw the kind of power it unleashed last time and you still went through with this insane scheme."

Since his brother walked back through that portal, Stan had held back, unsure of what to say, what to do with his brother back but all his restraints fell loose. "You think I didn't learn anything from you all that time? All those hours you spent down there. What did you think I was doing? Twiddling my thumbs? I had McGucket teaching me the theory behind all of this. You know why? So I could keep up with you. So I could help in case anything went wrong. And guess what? It did!" Stan rubbed the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath before continuing. "When that portal shut down behind you, I lost it. I grabbed Fiddleford by the scruff, shaking him until he could tell me what went wrong." Stan didn't know why he was explaining the aftermath of the portal's shutdown but he felt like he had to explain it, to justify himself. "After a while, the little nerd figured it out. When I told him to reopen it, he said it was impossible without all the journals. I said that I would find where you hid yours and then he would just have to give me his. He said no, that it would be too unstable, that it would end the world as we know it. He ran off after that. I didn't see him for almost two years after that. By then, he was too far gone to remember anything." Stan looked up at his brother, and saw that since the mention of Fiddleford, Lee's face had changed and Stan took his tone down. "You know what I saw in the mirror every day for thirty years? You. I shut everything about you away but I could never get away from it because all I saw, every day when I looked at myself was you. If I had just learned the theory better, maybe I could have seen the mistakes and you could have stayed.

Lee sighed. "You didn't let me down. I knew the risks going in. I knew that our work wasn't fool proof. I was ready for any eventuality. I guess I just wasn't quite ready for the thirty years after that." Stan looked at his brother with widened eyes. Lee's cold expression softened more, but only slightly. But just enough that Stan could see he was making headway.

"Lee, come inside. You should probably take a load off." Stanley looked at his brother, nodded, and walked back into the house.

Walking back into the house, Stan left a gap between him and his brother, unsure of how he must be feeling. Before Lee had been sealed, they were able to find out some information about what was on the other side. It didn't include a lot of company. And to say it wasn't pretty was putting it lightly. Really lightly.

"Here," Stan said, throwing him a towel. "Bathroom's still upstairs on the left. You could really use a shower."

For the first time in thirty years, Stan saw his brother's face break into a small, grateful smirk. "Thanks."

And as Lee turned away to go upstairs, Stan breathed a sigh. It wasn't exactly how he pictured their reunion but it was progress. Stan hoped that by giving him some time in a safe space would help Lee begin to unwind. Although that would probably be a long process.

Rubbing his eyes, Stan looked up towards the attic. It had already been a long day and it was about to get longer. He had, after all, promised his great niece and nephew an explanation. He assumed Stanley would probably be a while so he figured he had some time. So Stan made his way up to the attic to tell them all about his messy past that landed his brother in a portal.

It was well over four hours before Stanley emerged from the bathroom. When he came out, he found a note scrawled in his brother's hand. "Grab anything you want from my closet. Should fit you. I'm in the parlour. Come down when you're ready. – Stan"

Stanley stared at the note, ran his fingers over it. It seemed odd to hold something that rooted him back to this world. He really was back. And he didn't know what to do.

He walked slowly to Stan's room. Around the corner and down the hall, if he remembered right. He ran his fingers along the wall on his way to the room, jumping at the unfamiliar sounds and then repeatedly telling himself that the nightmare was over. Finally, over. But images from his real life nightmare still swam in his mind no matter how much he had tried to drown them in the shower.

It felt odd to be so clean. Almost vulnerable. After slipping on a pair of Stan's old pants, Stanley pulled out a couple of knives from his old jacket, sliding them into the pockets of the pants he now wore. He may be back in this dimension but old habits die hard. Feeling a bit safer, he found a t-shirt and slipped that on as well but still felt oddly naked. He pulled on his jacket from the other dimension, making sure everything inside was still there. He had tried to clean it but there was still a layer of grime and dirt that refused to come off.

After catching his reflection, he took a moment to stare at himself in the mirror. Was that really what he looked like now? He hadn't seen a proper mirror in years and took some time to examine the scars and deep creases on his face that aged him at least ten years. But through all that, he could still see the resemblance to his brother. While they weren't identical twins, they always had a strong resemblance and Lee could see the similarities he shared with Stan peeking through.

Stanford. He was downstairs in the parlour, waiting for him. Waiting to what? Console him? Demand explanations?

Stanley stayed in that room a while longer, knowing that he couldn't avoid his brother but not knowing how to speak to him. Conversations were mystifying. Hell, hearing his own voice aloud seemed odd. When was the last time he had a legitimate conversation with another human being? Looking down at his hands, he figured it had to have been years. What was her name again? Margaret? Molly? Mary? Mary. Her name was Mary and his hands were definitely younger when he grabbed her hand and ran. She was new to the dimension, only finding her way there a few days prior. They were only together a few hours, hoping to find companionship in the dimension but, of course, the dimension would never have such things. After their hideout was discovered, they had gotten separated and, of course, they could never find each other again.

She was pretty, Lee remembered. And had something akin to his vigour to not give in. He wondered if she ever made it out. If she had anyone on the other side who was just as much of an idiot as his brother.

There was Stanford popping into his mind again. Stanley clenched his fists, unsure of what came next until it hit him. He battled for his life for years. Surely catching up with his brother couldn't nearly be as bad.

He walked down the stairs with renewed courage but, regardless, still walked slower than normal. He took each step on the stairs carefully, still hoping to prolong the moment he'd have to look at Stan again.

The thing with pep talks is that, deep down, you know they're a load of crap.

He finally made it down to the parlour and as he passed a clock, he saw that it was just after 2am. Stanford was sitting in an old yellow chair, the TV on and a glass of whiskey in his hand.

"Hey," Stan said, as Stanley stood in the doorframe.

"Hi," he replied. A long moment of silence followed before Stanley said, "What…what are you watching?"

"I have absolutely no idea," he said, standing up. "Just needed something on. My brain was a little…preoccupied."

Stanley nodded and Stan turned off the TV.

"So, I know it's a loaded question but…how are you feeling?"

"Cleaner, I guess. It's strange."

Stan attempted a laugh but his throat choked it out halfway.

"I…cleaned out your old room…just in case. But if you don't want to stay in there, we'll find you something else. Gotta say, it was hell tryin' to get out all that dust. … I guess I could have tried to keep it clean or something but it was just easier to…you know, keep it locked."

The twins stood in silence again, not sure whether they should make eye contact or not.

"Stan, you're not the only one who had to push things down." Stan stared in surprise at his brother's declaration. "I had to fight for my life for…how long did you say it was? Thirty years? Sure felt a hell of a lot longer than that. There were days when I wished for death. When I thought about letting that universe win. But you know me. I could never back down from a challenge. So…I finally realized that I had to push it down. Any feelings of weakness I had were suppressed. In thirty years in that…that place. You know how many other people I came across? Four. One of them died right in front of me. I never found out what happened to the other three. Maybe they're still alive somehow. Maybe they're dead. So many conversations I've had have been with myself that I… I don't even know how to do this anymore," he explained, gesturing to the space between them.

Stan walked slowly over to his twin, putting his hands on his shoulders, smiling in assurance and holding tighter when his brother drew back at the human contact. "We'll figure it out. Take all the time you need. You don't even have to talk about it now. Whenever you're ready, Stanley."

"But…the journals. You still brought those out."

"Do you think I'm an idiot, Lee? Of course I have a plan." Lee stared at him, eyebrows raised in curiousity. "I'll tell you about it later. Get yourself a decent rest. Use my bed if you want."

Stanley gave a small smirk. "Only if you stay in the room with me. I may be a little disoriented when I wake up. Especially if it's from nightmares. I could…use someone there to steady me if it comes to that."

"Sure," Stan smiled.

So Stan pulled out his old folding cot and set it at the foot of his own bed, surrendering it to Stanley. It was a long night for both. Stanley woke up 11 times, and every time Stan was there with a glass of water and some reassuring words. It may have been thirty years but their bond was still there. Buried under a long separation was still two kids who grew up together and could still remember each other's little idiosyncrasies that hadn't been brought up in years.

After one particularly bad wake up, the men started talking.

"And, if you want, I'll introduce you to the kids in the morning."

"Kids?"

"Yeah. Your grandkids. Mabel and Stanley but just call him Dipper. Might start going by Stanley now, though. He's obsessed with those journals. Probably had a coronary when he found out you were the author."

Stanley didn't seem to hear much of what Stan said. Only one word stuck in Lee's mind.

"Danny has kids?"

"Yup. Got married fifteen years ago. Wasn't long before those two came along. Couple o' hell raisers, I'll tell you. And I'm not just saying that. Dipper actually raised the dead a couple weeks ago with that journal of yours."

Stan stared at his brother. Tears were pouring down Lee's face.

"I missed so much. I missed my son growing up. I missed his wedding. I missed my grandkids being born. How can I come back from that? What can I even say?"

Pushing aside his brother's need for space, Stan pulled him into a hug. While it didn't make up for thirty years of human contact, it helped to ease the burden a bit.

"He was really torn up after your…well, you know. You meant a lot to him Lee. Can't imagine you didn't. What with naming his kid after you." Stan pulled away and smiled at his brother but Lee was looking unsure. "We'll figure it out together, Lee. We'll just take it one step at a time. You can start with meeting the kids tomorrow. If you're ready."

Lee nodded. They stayed like that for a while, taking solace in each other's company. Unfortunately, a mischievous triangle poked his eye into the scene and had been watching for quite a while. Tomorrow would prove to be a very interesting day. His pawns were finally all here.

Well, that's it for my first Gravity Falls fic. I may write more GF stuff although I probably won't elaborate further on this one. Hope you enjoyed and don't forget to leave a review on your way out.

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