Thirty Years of Birthdays

Stan Pines woke in the early hours of the morning. How early exactly, he wasn't sure, but with the back pains kicking in early today, he didn't think it likely that he was going to go back to sleep.

"Alright, let's get this over with" he grunted. Slowly but surely he wrangled his aged body into a sitting position. He put on his glasses and checked his bedside alarm clock.

"Four in the morning? You call that sleep?" he said.

He lowered himself out of bed, placing his feet in his slippers and putting on his dressing gown. As he groggily rubbed the sleep from his eyes, he went to open the curtains of his room and gazed out at the early morning sun peering over the surrounding forest.

"Today", he said. "Today is gonna be one of those days". He left his room and headed downstairs. By the sound of it, nobody else had yet stirred. The kids were still asleep up in the attic room, and Ford was still down in the basement, though whether or not he was asleep or not, who could say. He very rarely seemed to sleep, he mostly stayed at work in the underground lab. Stan let out a noise halfway between a grunt and a snort at the thought of his obsessive brother. Reaching the kitchen, he made coffee for himself, then took a seat at the table, idly staring into the mug of coffee. He was glad that he had the kitchen to himself right now, he needed a little peace and quiet for a while, after the dreams. He wondered whether it was truly his back pain that had woken him up, or the very same dreams that now had him melancholically staring deep into his cup.

They had been restless ones, that was for sure. He had seen a long stretch of a Jersey beach, backed by a town that had been a blur, yet he knew to be Glass Shard Beach, his childhood home. The whole world had seemed faintly alien in his dream, slightly abstract somehow, and yet all so familiar. There he had seen two young boys sitting side by side in silence. Though they were faced away from Stan, he knew somehow that they were enjoying one another's company. Then, it seemed that the entire universe tore in two, as a gaping mass of nothingness split everything in half. The two halves drifted away from each other, yet somehow the boys remained motionless, not even trying to reach one another. Slowly, each half of the world had vanished in shreds, until there was nothing left but darkness. Stan tried to put thoughts of this dream aside as he sipped at his coffee, hoping it would rouse him from this annoyingly reflective state. Reflection hadn't been easy for Stan Pines, not for forty years anyway, especially the last thirty. All it did was remind of broken bonds, dreams and homes.

Try as he might though, dreams like this had troubled him a lot more over the weeks since his brother had returned, and he was getting sick of it.

"So what if the old nerd doesn't forgive you", he growled out loud. "You got him back home, ain't that enough?"

Though he got only silence in return, Stan continued.

"Yeah, I know, I'm all talk".

He sighed deeply. He was going to have to quit stalling and do it. It wouldn't be all that long before the kids went home, and he'd be out on his ass again, if Ford got his way. It was time to talk to his brother.

For the next few hours, Stan paced back and forth around the house, thinking things through. No matter what way he looked at it, this wasn't going to be any less difficult. It was half anxiety at the mere thought of trying to reconnect with his estranged brother, and half his own stubbornness. Why should I make an effort? he thought to himself. I spent thirty long years trying to get his ungrateful ass back in this universe, so now it's his turn to show some effort. But try as he might, he couldn't get himself to listen to his stubborn side, something he normally did with ease.

"Damn it all", he said.

Eventually he returned to the kitchen and tried to take his mind off it by reading the copy of The Gravity Falls Gossiper currently occupying the table, but try as he might, nothing seemed to ease his mind. Eventually, by about eight, he heard footsteps from upstairs as the kids woke up. He was glad to be getting the company. He'd needed his alone time, but now he had spent a little too much time sitting down here alone, stewing in anxiety and paranoia, thinking and rethinking his plans for the day.

"Yeesh, I'm startin' to feel like Dipper", the old man said, chuckling heartily to himself. A few minutes later, the twins came down, the sounds of their usual morning chatter growing steadily closer.

"Mabel, you can't just redefine words like that", Dipper said.

"Maybe you can't", Mabel replied. "Mabel does what she likes with words. I don't need no dictionary to tie me down".

"You're a hopeless case", Dipper laughed as the two of them entered the kitchen, Waddles happily trotting along behind them.

"Morning, Grunkle Stan", the two of them rang out in unison.

Stan gave them his morning grunt of greeting as he pretended to take interest in a story in the Gossiper, avoiding eye contact with the two. Mabel had an uncanny knack for knowing when her brother was stressed or anxious in the way that only twins can, and he didn't need her turning such skills on himself. He'd rather keep it private, for now at least.

Dipper grabbed himself some orange juice and sat at the table, taking out a notepad and pen and immediately beginning to scrawl notes and equations in it.

"Geez, bro-bro, you've been up all of five minutes and you're already being a dork", Mabel teased, as she poured herself a glass of her own nightmarish concoction, Mabel Juice, a drink that Stan was sure would send any normal human being into a sugar coma at the first sip.

"Just making some plans for today's monster hunt with great uncle Ford", Dipper said as he gnawed the end of his pen, his usual thinking habit. "We've got the trap pretty well figured out, but I think I can improve it if I just make a few teensy adjustments".

"Well, I'm gonna make some pancakes. You want some Dipper, or are you just gonna eat that pen for breakfast?" she laughed.

"Sure thing", Dipper said absent mindedly as he scribbled out an unsuccessful note.

"Do you want some, Grunkle Stan?" Mabel asked.

"Nah, I ain't hungry", Stan said absentmindedly, not really paying attention.

"Are you sure? Breakfast is the most important meal of the day", Mabel chided.

Stan shook his head no and took another sip of coffee. For the next few minutes, Mabel cooked a series of pancakes for herself and Dipper, humming cheerfully as she did, her hyperactivity levels rapidly rising thanks to the unholy effects of Mabel Juice. Stan eyed the substance, staring at the plastic stegosaurus currently sitting in Mabel's glass. He shuddered at the mere thought of the stuff. Not long after, Ford emerged from the basement, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Morning, family", he groaned.

"Morning", all three of the others replied.

"Oh, sorry Grunkle Ford", Mabel said through a mouthful of pancakes and syrup. "I just finished making pancakes, I didn't think to wait for you first".

"That's quite alright", Ford replied, "I was up most of last night, so I'm not really in the mood for something sweet as is".

He popped some bread in the toaster, then came to stand by Dipper, looking at his notes.

"You making some adjustments to the plan?" Ford said.

"Yep", Dipper replied, "I just figured it might go a little more smoothly if we change a few things. See for yourself".

Dipper handed his great uncle his notes. Ford scanned what to Stan was a confusing maze of gibberish and nonsense.

"Yes, that does make sense", Ford said. "I think you might be right on this one, Dipper".

Stan remained silent as the morning progressed further. The twins finished their pancakes, Ford ate his toast and drank his coffee. Dipper, Mabel and Ford chatted happily amongst themselves, but Stan remained relatively silent.

"Grunkle Stan, are you all right?" Mabel asked as Ford and Dipper went to prepare their equipment. "You've barely talked all morning".

"Yeah, I'm fine kid", he lied. "Just not in a talkative mood is all, you know?"

Mabel eyed him suspiciously, but went back to her knitting for now. He'd got off easy this time, but he knew he'd be pressed again later. Not that it mattered; he needed to ask Mabel for some help anyway. Eventually Dipper and Ford returned from their preparations, hauling a massive load of equipment out to the back yard, Dipper doing his best to help with the dragging despite his noodle arms. When they had loaded the equipment into the pickup truck borrowed from Soos, the two of them returned to the house.

"Alright, we're heading off now", Ford said.

"You still sure you don't wanna come, Mabel?" Dipper said.

Stan tensed up a little. If Mabel changed her mind now, it'd put a hamper on his plans.

"Nuh-uh, today's a Mabel day", she said. "No freaky monsters for me today, just relaxation, knitting, and spending time with my favourite pig in the whole world", she continued, giving an affectionate pat to Waddles, who oinked appreciatively.

"Okay, well see you later sis", Dipper said cheerfully.

"Catch you later, Dippingsauce", she replied.

"We should be back before five", Ford said. "Goodbye for now".

"Bye Grunkle Ford", Mabel called as the two departed.

Stan gave a farewell grunt.

For a while, Stan and Mabel sat in silence, Mabel continuing the knitting of her latest sweater. Stan was about to bring up what he wanted to ask her, but before he could, she spoke up.

"Sooooooooo. What's bugging you Grunkle Stan?"

She stared at him hopefully.

"It's nothing", Stan said. He had no idea why he was lying, he had to tell her what he had planned sooner or later. He guessed it was just plain old stubborn habit.

"Come on, you know you can't hide it from me forever", Mabel said.

Stan took a deep breath.

"I'm planning to talk to my brother tonight", he said at last, "or at least I'm gonna try".

Mabel let out a delighted squeal as her smile broadened to its greatest length.

"Does this mean you're finally gonna patch things up!?" she said.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, kid", Stan said, trying in vain to calm Mabel's excitement. "But I'm just thinking, it's gonna have to happen sooner or later. Ever since he got back, I've wanted to at least talk to him, tell him what's happened these last thirty years at the very least. But in all this time, we've barely spoken. Even when we sit in the same room together, it seems like we don't even look at each other. So tonight, I'm gonna get that poindexter to come and sit up here with me whether he likes it or not, and I'm gonna try to talk to him".

Mabel was practically bouncing in her seat.

"So that's why you've been so quiet", she said excitedly, "You've been worrying about tonight, haven't you?"

"Pretty much, yeah", Stan conceded.

"Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh, our two Grunkles talkin' it out at long last".

"Hey, don't get too excited", Stan said, "as far as I'm aware, we might not say a word to each other all night".

"Don't be like that Grunkle Stan, I'm sure you'll make some progress at least. So what's your plan?"

"Actually, that's where you come in", Stan said.

"You… You want my help?" Mabel said.

"Well, I have a certain idea in mind, and, well, what I have planned, I don't really have the skills to make. So I was wondering if maybe you'd be interested in making a little something to help me out".

Mabel's grin broadened even further. Already Stan could see the creative spark coming to life in her eyes. It looked like she was sold.

Late that afternoon, Dipper and Ford finally returned from their hunt. As they approached the shack, dragging a slimy black creature along behind them, chatting and laughing, they were met by the sight of Stan and Mabel sat on the porch couch, Stan drinking a can of Pitt cola, Mabel idly playing with Waddles, clearly a little sluggish from the heat.

"Hi bro-bro, hi Grunkle Ford", she cheerfully greeted the two of them.

"Hey", Dipper said.

"Hello again family", Ford said happily.

"Oh Christ, what even is that thing?" Stan said, addressing the unconscious monster.

"It's a Vexilated Strandulum", Ford explained as they reached the porch. "It's an elusive creature, but we found it without too much difficulty".

"Well just looking at it disgusts me", Stan said. "Too many tentacles and fangs for my liking. Please don't tell me that you're bringin' that thing into the house", Stan groaned.

"Sorry, Stan", Ford said apologetically, "but it's important for my research. Don't worry, I'll keep it contained once we've got it in the basement. It sleeps most of the time anyway".

"Well, whatever", Stan said. "Just don't make too much of a mess with the damn thing".

"We'll make sure to clean up the slime when we're done", Dipper said, heaving with all his might to get the nightmarish abomination up the steps. "It'll probably still make the floors glow in the dark for a few days, but that'll go away pretty quickly".

Together, the two of them dragged the creature through the shack, and finally into the basement, where they put it in a thick tank full of translucent purple ooze. Afterwards, Dipper went back to the attic bedroom to lie on his bed for a while and unwind. He took a deep breath and stretched all his limbs out. It wasn't long, however, before Mabel burst into the room, Waddles held under one arm.

"DIPPERDIPPERDIPPERDIPPERDIPPERDIPPERDIPPER!" she yelled joyously.

He sat bolt upright in an instant.

"What is it?" he inquired.

"It's amazing", she cried, throwing herself on the end of Dipper's bed. "Grunkle Stan is finally gonna talk to Grunkle Ford".

"Woah, really?" Dipper said. "I'm surprised that he's taking action all of a sudden like that".

"I know right. Our Grunkles might finally get along again".

"Don't be too hasty sis", Dipper said. "I mean even if they do talk to each other, it probably won't be an instant fix. I mean remember, they have forty years' worth of resentment and anger and such"…

"Oh PFFFT", Mabel said, blowing a raspberry. "Don't be so negative bro-bro, they might make some real progress".

"Yeah, but don't get your hopes up too high Mabel. I'm happy about it too, but don't get yourself too worked up for something that might not happen".

"Don't ruin this moment for me Dipper", Mabel said. "You're too much of a worrywart. Bap", she added as she poked the end of his nose. "Just chill a little, broseph".

"Yeah, maybe you're right", Dipper replied, laughing as he repeatedly poked Mabel back.

"Oh, it's so on now", Mabel said, and began poking her brother relentlessly. He returned the barrage as the two of them burst out into giggles.

As the rest of the day wore on, the four of them enjoyed a pleasant dinner together before Ford returned to the basement for further study of the newly captured monster. Just before he entered the passageway, he was tapped on the shoulder. Turning around, he was met by Stan. The two of them paused awkwardly for a few moments. It was always awkward when the two of them were alone together.

"Listen, Stanford", Stan said. "It's time we talk".

Ford paused to push up his glasses before saying,

"About what?"

"I don't know exactly. All I know is, you've been back for a few weeks now, and we've barely even spoken. We need to catch up a little, at the very least".

Ford paused for a very long time, before taking a deep sigh.

"Well, I suppose it would be worth a try", he eventually said.

"Okay", Stan said. "Meet me in the kitchen at about eleven tonight. I wanna make sure the kids are asleep before we talk, this ought to be just between the two of us".

Ford nodded, and the two men departed, Stan heading back into the house, and Ford descending into the basement once more.

That night, Dipper lay wide awake in bed, tossing and turning. Try as he might, sleep was eluding him tonight. Finally, he gave up, tutting loudly at himself. On nights when his brain was overactive, his thoughts would never shut up and it'd take him far too long to sleep.

Picking up his blanket, he headed downstairs and set himself in the big yellow armchair in the living room. He lay down in the large chair, draping his blanket over himself and turning on the TV. Nothing better to distract him from overactive thoughts than a bit of mindless TV. He flicked through a few channels before settling on a late night, 1950s Alien Invasion movie.

He casually watched the B-Movie, and slowly his thoughts began to calm down, and he started to feel sleepier. As his eyelids began to droop, the living room door opened up again. Looking over he saw that Mabel had entered the room.

"Couldn't sleep either, huh?" Dipper said.

"Nope", she said. "And it looks like we had the same idea, too".

"Put it down to twin synchronisation, I suppose", Dipper said, and the two of them chuckled.

"Room under there for one more?" she said, addressing the blanket.

Dipper wedged himself to one side of the armchair to make room and patted the empty space beside him. Mabel got under the blanket and settled herself on the other side of the chair, laying down as well. The two of them were slightly squished in, but it was comfortable enough an arrangement. They continued to watch the invasion movie, both of them slowly becoming sleepier. Eventually, Dipper grew tired of propping his head up, and simply lay down and closed his eyes, listening rather than watching. Mabel fairly quickly did the same.

"Hey Dipper", she chimed in.

"Yeah?"

"How do you think it'll go tonight with the Stans?"

"I really have no idea", Dipper said. "I guess I just don't have enough of a gauge on their relationship to even guess what it'll be like. And besides, I thought you were the one who was all super positive about the whole thing. Why ask me now?"

"That was daytime Mabel", she replied. "This is sleepytime Mabel. They have different think-y methods".

"You mean different states of mind", Dipper said.

"Sleepytime Mabel doesn't care", she mumbled sleepily.

"Neither would daytime Mabel", Dipper said, and the two of them chortled. Soon, a great wave of drowsiness overcame over the two of them, and they slowly drifted away into sleep.

The shack swiftly came back into view as Stan emerged from the trees. He had taken a night stroll to help calm his nerves, and though it had taken the edge off, he was still definitely anxious about this. "This is ridiculous", he said, thinking out loud. "So what if it doesn't go well? It'll just stay the same as it already is. Can't exactly go downhill from that trainwreck".

Reaching the entrance to the shack, he almost entered, but then changed his mind. He leaned his head against the wall.

"Come on Stan, yer better than this", he muttered. "Since when are you scared to go talk to your nerd of a brother?"

He curled his hands into fists, willing himself to go onwards. Slowly, he removed his head from the wall and entered the shack.

"That's right you old so and so, just dive into it".

Slowly he was feeling his morale return to him. Even if this little chat went disastrously, it still needed to be done. He made his way towards the kitchen. It was a little over ten minutes before eleven, and he knew that his brother wouldn't arrive early. Stanford had always liked to arrive at exactly the right time, for family events at least. He supposed that this did count as a family event of sorts. As he approached the kitchen, he heard noise from the living room that sounded like some kind of movie. It looked like the kids had left the TV on, unusual considering Dipper's pinpoint observational skills.

He detoured into the room and saw that it wasn't unoccupied as he had thought that it would be. The twins lay side by side under a blanket on the armchair, both of them fast asleep. The sight brought some warmth to his pessimistic heart. The kids always did. He went to sit on the arm of the chair and looked down at the two of them. He generally didn't let on just how much affection he had for the two, but now that they were asleep, he allowed himself to crack a soppy smile at the sight of them.

For thirty years he had lived alone now, and during that time he had always felt the bite of loneliness. But during his summer of playing caretaker for the two of them, that loneliness had been gone. He would certainly miss their company when the summer came to an end. Whether the twins were aware of that or not, he did not know.

They strongly reminded him of himself and Ford as kids. They had been best friends just the way these two were. That all seemed such a long time ago now, and he supposed it was, what with forty years having passed since the two were on good terms, but it felt even longer. Without his twin brother, he had never truly felt whole all these years, and he didn't care if that sounded sappy. He just hoped against hope that Dipper and Mabel didn't meet the same fate that he and Stanford had. He didn't think he could stand it if they did.

He spent the last ten minutes watching the end of the corny Alien Invasion movie on the TV, the saucers crashing into an unconvincing miniature city, the explosions lighting up the strings that the filmmakers had made no effort to hide. Ford had loved these sorts of movies when they were growing up; he'd always had a fascination with the supernatural, long before he ever came to Gravity Falls.

He remembered the nights when the two of them would sneak to their own childhood living room to stay up late watching such flicks. Stan wasn't sure that anything had ever felt longer ago than those times. Finally, the movie came to an end as the two protagonists gave a ridiculous and poorly acted speech about humanity, and then finally kissed one another, with a big THE END, emblazoned over it. Stan rolled his eyes at the corniness of the ending, but then he saw that the clock had turned to eleven; it was time.

Glancing down at the kids one more time, he affectionately ruffled their hair before switching the TV off. Leaving the living room behind, he placed a hand on the kitchen door.

"Alright Stan Pines, you can do this", he muttered to himself.

Slowly, he pushed the door open and entered the kitchen.