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redrobin-detective · 3 years

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exile

Maddie Fenton woke up on the worst day of her life with a headache. That wasn’t at all unusual, Jack’s snoring could be grating even when asleep. Combined with too many late nights in the lab, too much coffee and just general stress about her work and her kids... it seemed Maddie woke up with a headache more often then not. Jack was the early riser of the two of them so he was already awake and likely starting work in the lab. He’d knock on the kids’ doors to get them up but Danny always needed a special touch, or an aggressive shove, to get up.

Maddie got up and dressed and made her way downstairs, Jazz’s room was cracked and she heard her daughter bustling inside. Danny’s was still shut tight. She knocked forcefully on the door. “Danny honey, it’s 6:30, you need to start getting ready for school.” She got no answer but she didn’t always get one. She had a feeling it was going to be one of those mornings. Setting downstairs, she’d just started the coffee machine when the phone rang.

“Now who is calling at this hour?” Maddie asked herself, picking up the phone. “FentonWorks, this is Maddie Fen-”

“You tell my daughter to come home right this instant!” Pam Manson’s shrill voice came over the phone. Maddie winced and pulled the phone back from her ear. “And you tell her she can kiss that horrible death metal whatever concert she was going to on Saturday goodbye! I will not have my young, impressionable daughter thinking she can tramp around god knows where-”

“Pam, slow down,” Maddie interrupted, irate as always when dealing with the woman. “Sam isn’t here, I didn’t see her at all yesterday or today.” Or Danny, Maddie thought privately with a frown. Pamela’s fury and frustration was understandable in a way. Maddie also had no idea what her own child was up to most days.

“She’s not there?” Pam said quietly after a few moments of silence. “Are you sure?” She added a bit more frantically. “Because she’s not in her bedroom and her bed looks like she never slept in it. She’s not answering her phone but she sometimes doesn’t when she’s sees it’s-” Pam took a deep steadying breath. “Can you check and make certain she’s not there? I’m going to call Angela.” Pam hung up suddenly and Maddie pulled back and looked at the phone, biting her lip with nerves. The coffee maker screeching to life behind her startled her so much that she jumped.

“Goodness,” She said, setting the phone down and thinking. She was certain she hadn’t seen Sam. The last time she’d seen her son’s friend was the day before last when she and Tucker had dragged a very exhausted, bruised up Danny home. Took a fall down the stairs, they’d said, not explaining why their clothes were worn and hands scratched up. Frowning, she wandered to the top of the lab steps. “Jack, you haven’t seen Sam around, have you? Danny’s friend?”

“Sam?” She heard Jack shout back, he poked his head around the corner. “No, did she stay the night? By the way, did you move some of the weapons. I can’t seem to find a few of them...”

“Jack that’s not important right now, Pamela doesn’t know where she is,” Maddie said sharply. She felt a little bad watching as Jack’s face become pensive but she was too anxious herself to apologize. She turned and walked towards the upstairs steps. “I’m going to ask Danny.”

She can’t deny that a subtle little thrill went through her when she got onto the second floor landing and saw Danny’s door open. The sink was running in the bathroom and she knocked heartily on the door. “Daniel Fenton, Mrs. Manson can’t find her daughter and if I find you had her over without telling anyone you are going to be in so much-”

The door opened revealing Jazz with her eyes wide and a toothbrush sticking out of her mouth. “Waz goin on?” she asked around the brush. She took out the brush and spit out into the sink. “I poked my head into Danny’s room to wake him up but he wasn’t in there.” Her eyebrows furrowed, “they can’t find Sam?”

Feeling lightheaded, Maddie walked down the hall to Danny’s room to find no one there. She can’t put her finger on why but it didn’t just feel empty but vacant. Danny’s clothes weren’t on the floor, his desk was practically clear for the first time since they bought it. His bed was made just as she’d done it the morning before when she’d rousted her son. Distantly, she heard the phone ringing again but Maddie couldn’t bring herself to leave the deserted room.

Danny had several photos on his wall and desk, she couldn’t help but notice that two were missing. A framed photo of the entire Fenton family they’d taken last year for New Years and a particularly nice shot of Danny with his friends Jazz had snapped. They say in a crime scene, something is always taken and left behind. But why... The sound of footsteps approached her rapidly from behind.

“Mom,” Jazz with a small fearful little tone. She was holding the house phone in one hand and her cell in the other, Danny’s contact information open on her screen. It was just ringing through. “It’s Mrs. Manson, not only is Sam not at Tucker’s but... the Foleys can’t find him either. I... I told them we don’t know where Danny is at the moment. I’m trying to call but its just ringing and ringing...”

“Jasmine, calm down,” Maddie said, taking the phone away from her. “Keep trying his cell and go get your father. Pam, are you still there?” Maddie said speaking into the phone. She was met with tears on the other end.

“Where are they? How could this happen? Sammy... she has a sizable trust and could be a target for ransom but your boy and Tucker? It doesn’t make sense.” Pamela paused to take a few loud, sobbing breaths that pounded at Maddie’s headache like a jackhammer. “Unless they ran away but why? Samantha’s always been spirited but nothing like this... God, I need to call the police, we’ll be in touch.” She clicked off without another word.

“-swer your phone, please little brother. Please, I know. Know-know, I was waiting for you to come to me but now we can’t find you, Sam or Tucker and everyone’s freaking out and we just need to know that you’re all okay.” She heard Jazz speak quickly into her cell, curling in on it like she used to do with her old stuffed animals. Jack’s hands gripping her shoulders from behind, taking in the abandoned room just like she’d been.

“Mads,” Jack whispered, “where’d he go?”

Maddie would ask herself that same question in the coming days, weeks, months and years that would pass. Over the course of front page headlines and tv spots begging for information. When they found a large amount had been transferred out of Sam’s trust, when Tucker’s phone and computer was found broken in two near the dump by the interstate, when their weapons catalogue came up short. As more time passed, it became increasingly obviously the kids not only had left of their own volition but it had been a calculated, planned affair.

Maddie would lie awake late into the night and wonder where it all went wrong? What had she, or any of the grieving parents, done to warrant their children to up and leave in the middle of the night. Something had happened, something that had been under their noses, something they’d missed. And they were now paying for it.

Back in the present moment, with her husband’s warm hands on her shoulders, her daughter’s increasingly more frantic voice talking into Danny’s phone that just kept ringing and her headache pounding worse than ever, all she could do was moan. “I don’t know, they’re just gone.”

The worst day of her life was just getting started and was going to continue for a long, long while.

#my writing #written to exile by taylor bc it hit that air of missed tragedy #gonna confess this would be the start to a much longer fic I've been playing with for a few days #one I do and dont want to write #so consider this my trial run if I want to continue this #i kept some of the specific details out so this functions just as is as a one shot #i just couldnt get the image of the families waking up to find the kids have abandoned their lives and ran out of my head #anyway happy wednesday have some grief :)#if its not obvious this takes place in the sweet spot when Danny and co are actively ghost fighting but Jazz knows but isn't in the group ye #I will say that ghosts are common knowledge so think about mid S1 between public enemies and the ultimate enemy

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twoidiotwriters1 · 3 years

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Written In The Stars CII (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: You definitely won’t trust now, but I hope to see y’all in two weeks anyway, please don’t hate me -Danny

Words: 5,048

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Book 5

Listen to: I Only Wanna Talk To You -by The Maine

Chapter Thirty-Seven: A New Vow.

Many things changed as the school year came to an end, none of them was good.

Students would avoid her in the halls, they would stare at her and Harry carelessly, some frowning, some just plain scared. That wasn't new and it didn't hurt her anymore.

What hurt her was the way Harry grew distant out of the blue. He wouldn't touch her, not even sit beside her on accident. He would talk to her as if nothing had happened but she could see it in his eyes, some kind of distress, she had the ugly feeling that he resented her.

Mel was talking to Erick one morning in the courtyard, where they used to hang out during her first year. She was there to deliver Dumbledore's message and to thank him, it was their first time talking since the first task.

"I don't know what I would've done without the watch... it saved us."

Erick shook his head. "I merely confirmed his suspicions, Dumbledore was already looking for you when I got to him."

"You got him when I fainted during the task, you stood guard outside the tent while we were inside and I was..." She didn't know what to call it, her first thought was always directed to the word 'dying' but she knew now that those weren't her feelings, it was Harry who'd been dying, not her.

"You looked possessed. I thought you were... that you had..."

"That I was crazy," Mel sighed.

"...How's Harry?"

"We don't talk about that," Mel frowned, not wanting to go there. "Dumbledore has a message for you."

"Tell me."

"You won't like it."

"Try me."

"He said you could be of help," She replied carefully. "That if you're willing, you could join us."

"For what?" Erick asked in puzzlement.

"He didn't explain... said you could search for rogues."

After ten seconds, Erick spoke timidly. "Rogues like me?"

"I think so..."

"He wants me to dig around, see if any other Slytherin shares my... views."

"He kept saying how we have to stick together," Mel shook her head. "I think he's expecting us to try harder next year, unite the houses while we can..."

"I..." Erick started to stress. "It's too dangerous for me, you know that. Half of my friends come from Death Eaters or you-know-who's supporters. It's like walking on thin ice."

"You don't have to do it," Mel said promptly. "I know how your parents feel about this, and if they catch you doing something like that, trying to speak in Dumbledore's favour... I know that in comparison to me, you're on your own. I can't make you risk your well being like this."

Erick stared at her, he remained silent for a while, Mel didn't know what to do.

"Did you know, Miss," He finally uttered, "that Rapunzel isn't saved by a prince?"

She tilted her head and waited for him to finish.

"Found her way out of the mess, rebuilt her life on her own," Erick continued calmly. "I believe we'll do too."

"Bin havin' a cuppa with Olympe," Hagrid said as they settled around his table. "She's jus' left."

"Who?" said Ron curiously.

"Madame Maxime, o' course!" said Hagrid.

"You two made up, have you?" said Ron.

"Dunno what yeh're talkin' about," said Hagrid. When he had made tea and offered around a plate of doughy cookies, he leaned back in his chair and examined Harry and Mel closely. "You all righ'?"

"Yeah," said Harry.

"All right," Mel smiled.

"No, yeh're not," said Hagrid. " 'Course yeh're not. But yeh will be. Knew he was goin' ter come back. Known it fer years, Harry. Knew he was out there, bidin' his time. It had ter happen. Well, now it has, an' we'll jus' have ter get on with it. We'll fight. Migh' be able ter stop him before he gets a good hold. That's Dumbledore's plan, anyway. Great man, Dumbledore. 'S long as we've got him, I'm not too worried."

Mel looked down to her cup, frowning.

"No good sittin' worryin' abou' it," He said, patting her shoulder gently. "What's comin' will come, an' we'll meet it when it does. Dumbledore told me wha' you did. Yeh did as much as yer fathers would've done, an' I can' give yeh no higher praise than that."

They smiled, the very first glimpse of their old self coming to the surface.

"What's Dumbledore asked you to do, Hagrid?" Harry asked. "He sent Professor McGonagall to ask you and Madame Maxime to meet him — that night."

"Got a little job fer me over the summer– Secret, though. I'm not s'pposed ter talk abou' it, no, not even ter you lot. Olympe — Madame Maxime ter you — might be comin' with me. I think she will. Think I got her persuaded."

"Is it to do with Voldemort?" "Migh' be," Hagrid grimaced. "Now... who'd like ter come an'visit the las' skrewt with me? I was jokin' — jokin'!"

Mel's eyes found Harry's and he quickly averted his gaze. She frowned, a resolution already forming in her mind that she would clear things out with her best friend before they were back home.

She walked into his room when she knew he'd be alone packing up his things.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?" He said, gaze fixed on his trunk.

"I want to talk to you. You're the only one I want to talk to, but you keep avoiding me..."

"What d'you mean?"

"Can you at least look at me for just a second?" She frowned.

Harry did as told, his face remaining neutral as Mel approached. She looked into his eyes and pulled him in for a hug.

"I'm sorry," She mumbled against his shoulder. "Whatever I did– Please don't be mad. I swear all I wanted was to help you–"

Harry stepped away from her, not returning the hug.

"What're you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about! You don't... you won't–"

"I'm not mad at you!" Harry said exasperated. "Don't you see this is all my fault?"

Mel blinked.

"What?"

"I saw the bruises... What happened to you during the time Voldemort got me– you could've died!"

"Harry," She looked at him in disbelief. "You could've died."

"This is about you," He replied firmly. "It's my fault. I've dragged you to all of my mistakes and you end up hurt–"

"Those were my choices–"

"It was never your idea," He stated. "Dumbledore said that we're too close..."

"No! That's not... I did all that because I need you to be–"

"This was a mistake," Harry was breathing heavily, he was in distress. "What we did was a mistake."

"What, exactly?" She said in a shaky whisper, knowing where this was going.

"You know," His eyes hardened.

"That's rubbish!" It felt like holding sand, desperately trying not to let him slip away from her fingers. "This is not the solution–!"

"I don't think I ever liked you for real," He blurted out, "it wasn't my choice..."

"What?"

"I... I mean it," He turned around, hastily packing the last bits of clothing. "I think it might be the lifeline stuff... didn't like that you were getting close to other people– It sounds selfish, but it makes sense... some kind of instinct– doesn't mean it was real..."

"Harry, don't be stu–"

"I don't want you," He insisted. "I can't have you."

"Glasses–"

"My name is Harry!" He yelled, turning to face her. "Stop calling me that! I hate it! I hate the stupid nickname and I don't like you!"

Mel felt cornered, Harry had never spoken to her like that before. He turned back and slammed down the lid of his trunk.

"Just leave me alone." He said, abandoning the conversation as well as the room.

She stumbled back to his bed, falling heavily on it. Without being able to control herself, she burst into tears.

Mel avoided him for the rest of the term, spending most of her free time with the twins like the old times. It was good for her spirit, they knew how to make her laugh. During the feast she was seated between them, Dumbledore stood up to give his farewell speech and they fell silent.

"The end of another year. There is much that I would like to say to you all tonight," said Dumbledore, fixing his eyes on the Hufflepuff table, "but I must first acknowledge the loss of a very fine person, who should be sitting here, enjoying our feast with us. I would like you all, please, to stand, and raise your glasses, to Cedric Diggory."

And so they did. Every student in the room.

"Cedric was a person who exemplified many of the qualities that distinguish Hufflepuff house. He was a good and loyal friend, a hard worker, he valued fair play. His death has affected you all, whether you knew him well or not. I think that you have the right, therefore, to know exactly how it came about... Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort."

George looked down at her and put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly.

"The Ministry of Magic does not wish me to tell you this. It is possible that some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so — either because they will not believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, or because they think I should not tell you so, young as you are. It is my belief, however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies, and that any attempt to pretend that Cedric died as the result of an accident, or some sort of blunder of his own, is an insult to his memory. There is somebody else who must be mentioned in connection with Cedric's death," Dumbledore went on. "I am talking, of course, about Harry Potter."

She refused to look for him and kept her gaze on the old man ahead.

"Harry Potter managed to escape Lord Voldemort. He risked his own life to return Cedric's body to Hogwarts. He showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few wizards have ever shown in facing Lord Voldemort, and for this, I honour him."

She lifted her goblet and said his name, but found herself saying it with a new resentment that had never been there before. It didn't feel right.

"The Triwizard Tournament's aim was to further and promote magical understanding. In the light of what has happened — of Lord Voldemort's return — such ties are more important than ever before. Every guest in this Hall, will be welcomed back here at any time, should they wish to come. I say to you all, once again — in the light of Lord Voldemort's return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided. Lord Voldemort's gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open. It is my belief — and never have I so hoped that I am mistaken — that we are all facing dark and difficult times. Some of you in this Hall have already suffered directly at the hands of Lord Voldemort. Many of your families have been torn asunder. A week ago, a student was taken from our midst."

Her fists were closed tightly, there was still a faint greenish shadow were the bruise on her forearm had been days before.

"Remember Cedric. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory."

" 'Arry!" Fleur Delacour was hurrying up the stone steps, Joseph was beside her. "We will see each uzzer again, I 'ope. I am 'oping to get a job 'ere, to improve my Eenglish."

"It's very good already," said Ron clumsily.

Mel had her attention on Joseph.

"It was nice," Mel smiled fondly. "You're ten times funnier than your cousin."

Joseph laughed.

"Don't judge him too hard, it's the way he's been brought up. He used to be a lousy kid, very loving too... people grow out of it, unfortunately."

"Will I ever see you again?"

"Maybe," He smiled sweetly at her. "Take care, will you?"

"Yes."

"Will you watch after my cousin too?"

"Not like I have a choice..."

He chuckled. "See you, Mel."

"Good-bye, 'Arry," said Fleur, turning to go with Joseph. "It 'az been a pleasure meeting you!"

As Mel watched them leave, she had the reassuring feeling that maybe Erick wasn't entirely on his own after all.

"Wonder how the Durmstrang students are getting back," said Ron. "D'you reckon they can steer that ship without Karkaroff?"

"Karkaroff did not steer. He stayed in his cabin and let us do the vork." Krum said behind them. He looked at Hermione. "Could I have a vord?"

"Oh... yes... all right," said Hermione.

"You'd better hurry up!" Ron called loudly after her. "The carriages'll be here in a minute!"

"Oh shut up, Ron," Mel scolded. "Let her have one moment in private with him."

"What, is not like she'll be missing him lots, they didn't even date."

"You don't need to date someone in order to miss them," She snapped. "Or like them, for that matter..." She felt Harry purposefully look away as she spoke. When Krum returned, he talked to them.

"I liked Diggory. He vos alvays polite to me. Alvays. Even though I vos from Durmstrang — with Karkaroff."

"Have you got a new headmaster yet?" Harry asked.

Krum shrugged. He held out his hand as Fleur had done, shook Harry's hand, and then Ron's. Ron looked as though he was suffering some sort of painful internal struggle. Krum had already started walking away when Ron burst out, "Can I have your autograph?"

Hermione turned away, smiling at the horseless carriages that were now trundling toward them up the drive, as Krum, looking surprised but gratified, signed a fragment of parchment for Ron.

The trip back was good enough, even if Mel and Harry couldn't look at each other in the eye. Dumbledore's speech had given them energies, and just like he'd said before, they still had to remain together, for the greater good.

"There's nothing in there," Hermione signalled to the Daily Prophet Harry was staring at. "You can look for yourself, but there's nothing at all. I've been checking every day. Just a small piece the day after the third task saying you won the tournament. They didn't even mention Cedric. Nothing about any of it. If you ask me, Fudge is forcing them to keep quiet."

"Of course he is," Mel scoffed, "he's an idiot, but not that kind of idiot."

"He'll never keep Rita quiet," said Harry. "Not on a story like this."

"Oh, Rita hasn't written anything at all since the third task," said Hermione delightedly. "As a matter of fact, Rita Skeeter isn't going to be writing anything at all for a while. Not unless she wants me to spill the beans on her."

"What are you talking about?" said Ron.

"I found out how she was listening in on private conversations when she wasn't supposed to be coming onto the grounds," said Hermione.

"Oh, right!" Mel said. "What was that about?"

"How was she doing it?" said Harry.

"How did you find out?" said Ron.

"Well, it was you and Mel who gave me the idea, Harry."

"What? How?"

"Bugging," said Hermione happily.

"But you said they didn't work —"

"Oh not electronic bugs," said Hermione. "No, you see... Rita Skeeter" — Hermione's voice trembled with quiet triumph — "is an unregistered Animagus. She can turn —" Hermione pulled a small sealed glass jar out of her bag. "— into a beetle."

"You're kidding," said Ron. "You haven't... she's not..."

"Oh yes she is," said Hermione.

"Holy Godric," Mel laughed loudly for the first time in days.

"That's never — you're kidding —" Ron mumbled, examining the jar.

"No, I'm not. I caught her on the windowsill in the hospital wing. Look very closely, and you'll notice the markings around her antennae are exactly like those foul glasses she wears."

"There was a beetle on the statue the night we heard Hagrid telling Madame Maxime about his mum!" Harry exclaimed.

"When you fainted there was a beetle in the curtain as well," Mel replied, her eyes fixed on the tiny creature. "And when I talked to Cedric before the first task..."

"Exactly. And Viktor pulled a beetle out of my hair after we'd had our conversation by the lake. She's been buzzing around for stories all year."

"When we saw Malfoy under that tree..."

"He was talking to her, in his hand. He knew, of course. That's how she's been getting all those nice little interviews with the Slytherins. They wouldn't care that she was doing something illegal, as long as they were giving her horrible stuff about us and Hagrid. I've told her I'll let her out when we get back to London. I've put an Unbreakable Charm on the jar, you see, so she can't transform. And I've told her she's to keep her quill to herself for a whole year. See if she can't break the habit of writing horrible lies about people."

"Hermione, I love you," Mel grinned.

The door of the compartment slid open.

"Very clever, Granger," Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were standing there. "So, you caught some pathetic reporter, and Potter's Dumbledore's favourite boy again. Big deal." He stared at them with bright eyes. "Trying not to think about it, are we? Trying to pretend it hasn't happened?"

"Get out," Harry tensed.

"You've picked the losing side, Potter! I warned you! I told you you ought to choose your company more carefully, remember? When we met on the train, first day at Hogwarts? I told you not to hang around with riffraff like this! Too late now, Potter! They'll be the first to go, now the Dark Lord's back! Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers first! Well — second — Diggory was the f —"

It was as though someone had exploded a box of fireworks within the compartment. Blinded by the blaze of the spells that had blasted from every direction, deafened by a series of bangs, Harry blinked and looked down at the floor.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were all on the ground and they were on their feet, all four of them having used a different hex. Nor were they the only ones to have done so.

"Thought we'd see what those three were up to," said Fred entering their compartment.

"Interesting effect," said George, examining Crabbe. "Who used the Furnunculus Curse?"

"Me," said Harry.

"Odd– I used Jelly-Legs. Looks as though those two shouldn't be mixed. He seems to have sprouted little tentacles all over his face. Well, let's not leave them here, they don't add much to the decor."

Ron, Harry, and George pushed them out into the corridor, when they straighten up, Ron turned his head slightly towards her.

"Er... Mel?"

She walked out of the compartment and found Erick standing there, looking down at the three Slytherins.

"Oh," She smiled. "Hello. Don't worry boys, I got this."

Erick had a sort of exasperated look on his face.

"Why don't you turn around and forget you saw this," George ignored her. "We promise not to hurt you if you do."

"You promise not to hurt me?" Erick let out a dry laugh. "Right..."

"He's not here to report us," Ron said, pushing his brother back into the compartment. "Listen to Mel..."

"Don't annoy her, the year's over and so is the committee," George insisted.

"George," Mel sighed. "It's okay."

"Listen, we can clear all doubts in a moment, but can I talk to her first?" Erick frowned. "In private."

The boys entered the compartment reluctantly, they had just closed the door when he spoke.

"I'll do it. Whatever Dumbledore wants me to do."

Mel was taken by surprise.

"Are you sure?"

"What he said during the speech... he's right," He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "It's time to make a choice."

"But your parents–"

"Don't have to know. If there's any chance that there are more people like me... if I can convince them... it'll be worth it, right?"

Before she could stop herself, she held his hand.

"Come."

"What?"

"Come in for a second, meet the Weasleys."

"So they can kill me? No thanks–"

"They won't," She dragged him inside. Everyone stared at them. "Erick won't report us."

"Good for him," Ron replied in disinterest.

"I think it's time we clear things up," She continued with determination. "Erick and I are good friends. He doesn't need to prove his loyalty to anyone, but he wants to help my uncle, so it'd be brilliant if you could, you know, be nice to him."

"No need to look so outraged," Erick said, staring at the twins' faces. "Being a Slytherin doesn't equal being a monster. I could've reported you to Professor McGonagall thousands of times during the school year but I kept my mouth shut. Why?"

"Because you knew we could've kicked your arse?"

"Very classy," He rolled his eyes. "I did it out of consideration for Mel. Now Dumbledore asked for my help and that's what I'll give. All I want is for you to stay out of my way and stop acting like I'm the danger. I assure you, Mel's the bad influence here. All I care about is being of use."

A heavy silence surrounded them as the boys processed the news.

"All right then, be of use," George shrugged. "Close the door and sit down, we've had enough visitors for today."

"Exploding Snap, anyone?" said Fred, pulling out a pack of cards. "Be of use, Flint, open the window before you sit."

"I'm going to regret this..." Erick groaned, doing as asked.

She purposely seated Erick between her and Harry for the rest of the trip.

"You going to tell us, then?" Harry said to George after a while. "Who you were blackmailing?"

"What?" Erick looked around in confusion.

"Long story," Hermione said over her book.

"It doesn't matter," said Fred. "It wasn't anything important. Not now, anyway."

"We've given up," said George, shrugging.

"Come on!"

Harry, Hermione, Ron and her insisted so much that Fred lost his patience.

"All right, all right, if you really want to know... it was Ludo Bagman."

"Bagman? Are you saying he was involved in —"

"Nah. Nothing like that. Stupid git. He wouldn't have the brains."

"Well, what, then?"

"You remember that bet we had with him at the Quidditch World Cup? About how Ireland would win, but Krum would get the Snitch?"

"Yeah."

"Well," He glanced at Mel, "The git paid us in leprechaun gold he'd caught from the Irish mascots."

"So?"

"So," said Fred, "it vanished, didn't it? By next morning, it had gone!"

"So I guess, you could say I told you so, Lady," George scowled. "We were idiots."

"But — it must've been an accident, mustn't it?" said Hermione.

"Yeah, that's what we thought, at first. We thought if we just wrote to him, and told him he'd made a mistake, he'd cough up. But nothing doing. Ignored our letter. We kept trying to talk to him about it at Hogwarts, but he was always making some excuse to get away from us."

"In the end, he turned pretty nasty," said Fred. "Told us we were too young to gamble, and he wasn't giving us anything."

"So we asked for our money back."

"He didn't refuse!" gasped Hermione.

"Right in one," said Fred.

"But that was all your savings!"

"Tell me about it," George scoffed. "'Course, we found out what was going on in the end. Lee Jordan's dad had had a bit of trouble getting money off Bagman as well. Turns out he's in big trouble with the goblins. Borrowed loads of gold off them. A gang of them cornered him in the woods after the World Cup and took all the gold he had, and it still wasn't enough to cover all his debts. They followed him all the way to Hogwarts to keep an eye on him. He's lost everything gambling. Hasn't got two Galleons to rub together. And you know how the idiot tried to pay the goblins back?"

"How?"

"He put a bet on you, mate," said Fred. "Put a big bet on you to win the tournament. Bet against the goblins."

"I knew it!" Mel exclaimed.

"So that's why he kept trying to help me win! Well — I did win, didn't I? So he can pay you your gold!"

"Nope– The goblins play as dirty as him. They say you drew with Diggory, and Bagman was betting you'd win outright. So Bagman had to run for it. He did run for it right after the third task."

"My Grandad's a big fan of Zonko's," Erick mentioned casually, placing his cards on the table. "And he relishes on supporting young inventors, reminds him of the old days. If you send me samples I'll show them to him and he might help you... What? Don't look at me like that, it's not dirty money!"

"Sorry," Fred said, raising a brow. "It's weird to see you acting like... well, like a good person."

"Unexpected, you mean," George suggested. "You have the looks of a conceited prat."

"Give it time," Mel muttered.

"Shut it," Erick nudged her arm. "Anyway, I better leave and finish my rounds before we arrive... I'll write if anything comes up, Mel."

They waved him goodbye, the twins looked at her with their eyebrows raised.

"What?"

"Nothing," Fred smirked. "Bad influence you are then, aren't you?"

"You've corrupted Slytherin's Prince!"

"Careful Harry," Fred teased. "Don't let him get too comfortable or he'll think he's got a chance!"

"Shut up," Mel interrupted harshly. "Erick doesn't like me that way..."

"Sure thing, and Krum's nothing but a good mate to Hermione," George grinned.

"Fred — George — wait a moment."

She heard Harry said after leaving the compartment. She froze, curiosity winning over her.

"Take it," He said, and she could hear the distinct sound of coins inside a sack falling onto someone's hands.

"What?" said one of the twins.

"Take it. I don't want it."

"You're mental–"

"No, I'm not. You take it and get inventing. It's for the joke shop."

"He is mental."

"Listen, if you don't take it, I'm throwing it down the drain. I don't want it and I don't need it. But I could do with a few laughs. We could all do with a few laughs. I've got a feeling we're going to need them more than usual before long."

He was giving them the tournament's money. Her heart did that odd flip it hadn't done in days.

"Harry," she kept hearing, "there's got to be a thousand Galleons in here."

"Yeah, think how many Canary Creams that is– Just don't tell your mum where you got it... although she might not be so keen for you to join the Ministry anymore, come to think of it..."

"Harry–"

"Look, take it, or I'll hex you. I know some good ones now. Just do me one favour, okay? Buy Ron some different dress robes and say they're from you."

Harry left the compartment and faced her. There was a moment where she caught a glimpse of something, for a second he looked like he wanted to speak. It disappeared right away though, taking all her hopes with it. He scowled and walked past her without uttering a word.

"See you, Harry," said Ron, clapping him on the back.

"'Bye, Harry!" said Hermione, and she did something she had never done before, and kissed him on the cheek.

"Harry — thanks," George muttered, while Fred nodded fervently at his side.

Harry winked at them, turned to Uncle Vernon, and followed him silently from the station. There was no point worrying yet, he told himself, as he got into the back of the Dursleys' car.

As Hagrid had said, what would come, would come... and he would have to meet it when it did.

Mel entered her mother's car in silence, she was still trying to understand how things had gone to the dogs between her and Harry so quickly. There was something pressing on her chest and she wasn't sure she wanted to plug it out.

Her mother spoke for the first time in the day.

"We're not staying at Privet Drive this summer."

"What?" Mel asked absently.

"We'll go there to get your clothes, then we'll leave first thing tomorrow morning to Remus' place," Her mother explained quickly. "I know you want to stay and make sure Harry's fine, but I have things to do and you can't be left alone–"

"Okay."

Her mother stared at her.

"What?"

"I know Harry's going to be safe, surrounded by muggles and all," She tried to keep her voice neutral. "If we're of use somewhere else, I want to go."

Emily knew right away that something was wrong, but whether if she thought it was about Harry or not, she didn't comment on it.

"All right. It'll be a long summer, this one..."

"Yeah," Mel looked out the window as the car left their parking spot.

The girl felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, she'd been dreading to go back and have no one to talk to but Harry. Not that he'd be visiting her house at all, but at least now she had an excuse to stay away from him. To leave him alone, just as he'd requested.

Mel thought, very bitterly, that her biggest dream and worst nightmare had come true at the same time. She made a vow not to wish for anything ever again.

Next Part —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere @t-rexs-world

#twoidiots writing #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter xoc #hp fanfic #WITT fic

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angelsandacceptance · 3 years

Text

Family Remains

A ringing interrupts the relative silence in the Lincoln waking Chase up. The girls quickly locate the phone emitting the noise and answer it, quickly putting it on speakerphone upon realizing it’s Dean calling.

“What?” Chase asks annoyed and tired.

“Got a case.”

“So you decided to wake us up?” Harley asks even though she hadn’t been sleeping.

“That’s not a great excuse. Couldn’t this have waited until morning?”

“Figured we start heading there now,” Dean responds.

“Dean, let Chase and Sam sleep.”

“Thank you!” Chase exclaims before rolling back around in her spot and trying to go back to sleep.

“Dean, If you can’t sleep, we could go for a walk. If you want,” Harley suggests.

“Yeah, okay. Don’t got anything better to do.”

“Cool. Meet you outside in a sec,” Harley says before hanging up.

Harley climbs out of their Lincoln, while Chase waits calmly. Right as she is about to close the door, Harley is startled by Chase.

“So. Where ya goin?” Chase asks in a mocking voice.

Harley turns, a deadpan look on her face, to see Chase half sitting up, a smirk on her lips, eyebrows raised. “Go back to sleep.”

Chase raises her hands slightly in defense. “Okay, okay.” Right as the door closes, Chase calls out loud enough to be heard, “Be safe!”

Harley groans, but doesn’t respond.

***

“Hey,” Harley says walking over to Dean.

“Be safe, huh? What did you have in mind?”

Harley punches his shoulder hard, but not hard enough to bruise as they walk away from the cars, “Shut up. Chase is clearly off her rocker. She’s been bugging me about you ever since we kissed.”

“Which time?”

“The only time she knows about. Right after you came back.”

“Yeah, I could see that. Sam’s been on me about it too. You’d think they’d get over a kiss by now.”

“I know it’s been three months of this shit.”

“So am I the hunter then?”

“Huh?”

“Last month you mentioned Chase thought you were madly in love with some hunter, and you wouldn’t tell me who.”

“Oh, yeah. That was you.”

“And you didn’t tell me, why?”

“I was embarrassed. Jeez, hitting me with the hard questions.”

Dean pulls Harley closer, slinging his arm over her shoulders, “Don’t have to be embarrassed with me, sweetheart.”

Harley just rolls her eyes and leans into Dean's side.

***

“So on a scale of one to ten, how safe were you guys?”

“I am so not answering that. Just no.”

“So a zero then? No, no, probably a ten. One, you’d tell me if you guys did anything. And two, you both are too fucking stubborn to do anything.”

“If we did have sex, and that’s a big gigantic if. Would you really want to hear about it? I mean do you really want to hear about how amazingly good your brother is in bed?”

“Yes and no… Ugh that’s annoying. I would usually 100% want all the details but, that’s disgusting. Okay, yeah, just tell me if you do the deed and if he treated you right. I need no other information.”

“That’s what I thought,” Harley smirks.

“Yeah, okay, point made. Now shut up.”

“For now. Do you think Cas is a virgin?”

Chase turns a shade of pink as a look of bewilderment spreads across it. “Wait, what, excuse-why the fuck? What is that- why is that something you ask me?”

“Because I don’t have anyone else to ask.”

“That is deplorable.” Chase pauses for about one second. “But, duh. Have you seen the look of confusion he always has on? That man- angel- wouldn’t know what to do with a man or woman even if he read a “how to” book for dummies.”

Harley bursts into laughter at Chase's response.

“What?” Chase asks. “What about him makes you think he has done anything more than touch someone’s shoulder?”

“Nothing, but it sounds a hell of a lot funnier out loud than in my head.”

“That’s fair,” says Chase, sighing in relief as though dodging a bullet.

“Wait, Cas touched your shoulder. Is there something you’re trying to tell me?”

“Other than Cas being a giant prude, no. Seriously, I have had like four conversations with him that lasted more than a few sentences. What makes you see something there?” Chase throws her hands in the air for a split second before they return to the steering wheel. “For crying out loud, the first few times we were in the same room, he pretended I wasn’t there!”

“Yeah, but you think he’s cute and he ‘always notices you’.”

“Well, I do attract a lot of attention with my dazzling and annoying persona.”

“You’re only annoying sometimes.”

Chase shoots Harley a sideways glance. “Thanks,” she says dryly.

“You’re welcome.”

Chase sighs. “Anyhow. Anything else you want to randomly talk about? Or is pestering me about Castiel the only goal you had?”

“Pizza is legally a sandwich.”

“Excuse me- what the fuck?”

“It’s true.”

“Do I wanna know?”

“Probably not.”

“Cool. Moving on!”

“There’s a Catholic Church that’s decorated in the bones of it’s parishioners.”

Chase just sighs in defeat. “Anything else?” she asks dejectedly. “Or can I be allowed peace this once?”

“I can’t think of anything else, so sure.”

“Alright then, back to you and Dean!”

“Fuck my life,” Harley groans.

***

“Boy, three bedrooms, two baths, and one homicide. This place is gonna sell like hotcakes,” Dean says upon entering the supposedly haunted house.

The Winchesters and Co. immediately go to separate areas and investigate the house for any signs of paranormal activity.

“Hey, check this out,” Harley says, knocking on the wall. “It’s hollow.”

“It’s probably just a dumbwaiter.”

Everyone looks to Chase who shrugs. “What? I used to read about older houses like this.”

“Know-it-all,” Dean mutters.

“You wanna say that again?”

“Say what again?”

“You said- you. Jackass.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “You guys need to grow up. I thought I was the youngest.”

“You still are, Sammy-boy,” Chase says grinning.

Another eyeroll is earned. “Let’s continue checking out the house.”

“Agreed,” Harley says, concealing laughter.

They wander into a large bedroom, investigating further.

“Well, no bloodstains, fresh coat of paint, it's a bunch of bubkes,” Dean says after a few moments.

“Needle’s all over the place,” Sam says, looking at the EMF reader.

“Yeah, power lines most likely.”

“Know-it-all,” Dean mutters again.

Chase shoots him a look.

Harley goes to the closet and opens the door. She sees a decapitated doll’s head lying on the floor, and slowly closes the door.

“What was that?” Chase asks her. Harley motions for her to go ahead and check. Skeptically, Chase opens the door. She stares down in confused horror. “Uh huh, okay then.”

The boys look over her shoulder, and mimic her expression.

“Well, that’s super disturbing,” Dean says.

“Think it got left behind?”

“By who?” Dean asks.

“Unless Bill Gibson liked to play with doll heads,” Chase scoffs.

“Or Sid from Toy Story lived here,” Harley says.

Chase laughs, only to stop, hearing a car outside.

“I thought you said this place was still for sale?” Dean demands.

“Apparently not anymore,” Sam says sarcastically.

“Wait, what?” Chase asks. “Did you two not see the ‘Sold’ sign outside?”

“No,” Dean responds hastily, before rushing to the front door. The other three quickly follow behind him.

“Who are they?” A teenage girl asks.

“Can I help you?” A man asks them.

“Are you the new owners?” Sam asks.

“Yeah. You guys are?”

“This is Mr. Stanwyk. I'm Mr. Babar. County code enforcement. Those two are Miss Wentz and Mrs. Babar. Specialists.”

Harley shoots Dean a look, before shaking off the comment.

“We had the building inspected last week. Is there a problem?”

“Asbestos in the walls, a gas leak.” Sam lists it off hurriedly, obviously just wanting the family gone. “Yeah, I’d say we have a problem.”

“Asbestos? Meaning what?”

“Meaning until this house is up to par, you can’t stay here. It’s uninhabitable,” Chase explains.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. You mean we can’t stay here?”

“Obviously,” Chase deadpans.

“It’s a health hazard,” Dean amends, rolling his eyes at his sister. “You don’t want to.”

“Hold up, we just drove four hundred miles!”

“Look, what’s your name?” Chase asks.

“Ted.”

“Look, Ted. This house is a health hazard. You’ve got fairly young kids as well as yourself. Staying here is not a bright idea.”

“There’s a motel just down the road. Until this gets cleared up, I suggest you stay there,” Harley adds.

“All right, and what if we don’t?”

“Are you an idiot?”

“Wentz!” Sam says warningly.

“You either get a fine or you go to jail. Pick your poison.”

“One night,” the man says. “One night and I’ll take care of everything. ASAP, I promise.”

“You do that,” Dean says.

“Another motel? Awesome, Dad. I hope this one has hooker sheets, like the last one,,” the teenager pipes up.

Harley laughs and cracks a smile at the comment.

“Danny!” The mom of the group calls out as they near their car.

“Come on, Danny!” The man who isn’t Ted shouts.

Harley gently hits Dean as soon as they’re out of view. “Where do you get off pretending I’m your bloody wife without warning me.”

***

“What did the room look like when you found it, Mrs. Curry?” Harley asks gently.

“I already told the local boys, there was blood everywhere.”

“And Mr. Gibson? Where was he?” Dean asks.

She shakes her head. “Everywhere.”

Chase has to stifle a laugh, only successfully disguising it as a cough after Harley elbows her in the stomach slightly.

“How long have you been cleaning Mr. Gibson’s house?”

“About five years.”

“So you knew him pretty well,” Dean surmises.

“Well, not really. He was real private. Not the easiest man. Not that I blame him.”

“What do you mean?” Harley asks.

“His wife died in childbirth. Daughter hangs herself in the attic twenty years later. I’d be bitter too. Oh, I think I got some pictures.” With that, she goes off to find them. She quickly returns. “Here.”

“Thanks. Can we keep these?”

“Suit yourself.”

“So, why did she kill herself?” Chase asks.

“I don’t know. Was before my time.”

“Did you ever notice anything odd around the house when you were cleaning it?” Dean asks.

“Like what?”

“Like,” Dean pauses.

“Like, you know. Lights going on and off and things not being where you put them,” Harley lists.

“Well, maybe there was one thing.”

“What’s that?” Sam asks.

“Well, sometimes, I thought I heard like a...rustling in the walls.”

“Like a rat?” Dean asks.

“Yeah.”

“Must have been some big sons of guns out there, huh?”

“Wouldn't know. Never saw any.”

“Do you happen to know where Mrs. Gibson and her daughter were buried?” Sam asks.

“They were cremated.”

Winchesters and Co. headed back out to the cars.

“All right. So it probably wasn't the mom or the daughter. Whose ghost was it?” Sam says narrowing down their list of suspects to nothing.

“I don't know. But I say we give that place a real once-over and see,” Dean says.

“Lovely now all we got is who it probably isn’t,” Harley sighs.

“We’ve got a whole lot of nada and a shit ton of zip. I’m just tired of this already,” Chase complains.

***

Chase and Harley pulled up to the haunted house of the week with the Impala not far behind. The house’s lights were on and they could see people moving around.

“Shit! They stayed in the house!”

Chase rolls her eyes. “Fucking dumbasses.”

“They’re gonna get themselves killed.”

“We did warn them though. So, technically, we are not liable.”

“I love you,” Harley says laughing.

Chase laughs in response, her eyes tearing up slightly. “Am I wrong? Just, am I wrong? No. Exactly.”

“Definitely not wrong.”

“When have I ever been wrong?”

“You’re wrong about me and Dean.”

“Ah, but you are actually the wrong one. Guess who has another few photos to add to her collection? Me. And why is that? Oh yes. Because I caught you two cuddling! Again!”

“You know it’s kind of creepy that you have a bunch of pictures of me sleeping half naked.”

“No, it’s not. It’s not creepy because you’re with Dean and in my defense, Sam has the same file. That’s creepy. At least I’m a girl.”

“That doesn’t make it any less creepy.”

“But it does.”

“Dude, you’re into chicks. And you have pictures of me half naked. It’s weird.”

“I have literally seen you nude. Remember when we went skinny dipping that once? C’mon get a better argument. You know you don’t count. You’re practically my sister.” Chase smirks. “And soon to be sister.”

“It’s still weird. And no I’m not.”

“Oh come on. At least do it so we’re actually related finally.”

“I should’ve never kissed him in front of you.”

“Oh, so you would kiss him not in front of me? Wait. Have you kissed him before but not in front of me? How could you not tell me this?!”

“Because it’d only fuel your weird ship. Sometimes you just need a little affection.”

“OH MY GOD YOU JUST ADMITTED YOU HAVE KISSED HIM BEFORE OH MY FUCKING GOD!”

“Platonically.”

“There is no such thing as platonic kissing if it’s you and Dean.”

“Yes, there is. Although something was definitely different earlier today,” Harley says, shooting Dean a text.

Chase lets out an inhuman squeal in response. “You kissed earlier?! When?”

“While we were watching Scooby-Doo.”

“How romantic.”

Harley rolls her eyes at Chase.

“Give me details. Was it like for long or just short? Was it French? Wait, it’s Dean. Do I want to know? Nevermind, obviously I do. Sooo. Tell me everything.”

“I’m not dignifying that with a response.” Harley says, getting out of the Lincoln and sticking her tongue out at her best friend.

“You are such a child. Just tell me.”

Harley doesn’t respond; just sits on the hood of the car. Chase groans dramatically.

***

Screams erupt from inside the house and the four hunters quickly rush to aid the family. Pounding on the door with a frown, Dean takes the lead.

The man- Brian- opens the door. “Oh, you. Did you touch my daughter?”

“What? No,” Dean says confused. “I have her.” Dean makes a motion with his thumb, gesturing behind him to Harley, who rolls her eyes at him.

“Who are you guys?” Brian asks.

“Relax, please. You have a ghost,” Sam calmly states.

Chase resists snorting a laugh at the comment, covering it up with a cough. “We’re here to help,” she revises.

“A ghost,” Brian says again, as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“I told you!” Hooker Sheets Girl exclaims.

“It’s the girl!” Danny says.

“Both of you relax,” Brian chastises before turning the group. “What are you four playing at?”

“Oh nothing much, just saving you lives.” Harley says offhandedly.

“Your family is in danger,” Chase says.

“You need to get out of the house,” Dean demands. The girls roll their eyes at his abrasiveness.

All of a sudden, the lights go out, pitching the group into darkness.

“Nobody move,” Dean commands.

“Buster!” Danny calls out, hearing their dog start to bark and whine.

The four hunters follow Brian out of the house, alongside Ted. The group, while chasing Brian who is yelling for Buster desperately, comes across the words, ‘TOO LATE’, painted in large red letters.

The rest of Brian’s family comes out onto the porch, gasping at the sight before them.

“Go back inside. Go!” Brian yells at his kids; worried for their safety.

“We are not the bad guys, but you're in danger.” Dean states sternly.

“First thing's first. You got to get your family out of here.” Sam says quickly.

“Head to the motel I was talking about. You'll be safe there,” Harley says.

“What’re you guys gonna do?”

“We’re going to solve your ghost problem, obviously,” Chase says.

“Oh, come on! No!” Dean exclaims, drawing everyone’s attention.

All of the vehicles have slashes in all four tires.

“Excuse me? That fucking ghost is gonna pay!” Chase shouts, running over to Jack. “My poor baby.” She shoots a quick glance at the group behind her, “Sorry, excuse my french.”

Sam pops Baby’s trunk and looks for any of their supplies, while Harley checks Jack’s.

“Dude, the guns are gone. So is the... Basically, everything is gone.” Sam says.

“Same over here.” Harley sighs.

Ted had disappeared to check on his truck unnoticed, and only just returned. “Truck's no good.”

“Tires slashed?” Brian asks, and Ted just nods.

“What kind of ghost messes with a man’s ride?” Dean whines.

“Really though,” Chase agrees. “That’s a new level of bastard.”

“What's going on? What's going on?” The teenage girl asks before screaming, “She's there! She's there!”

“Where?!” The mom asks.

“She was right there in the woods!” The girl yells.

“What's a ghost doing outside?” Dean asks.

“Maybe it’s picking apples, Dean. For apple pie,” Chase says sarcastically. “Why are you asking? Does it look like we know why a ghost is outside?”

“Hey, it was a rhetorical question!”

“Do you two want to stay out here arguing and find out?” Sam demands.

“Are you crazy? We need to get the hell out of here!” Ted says freaking out.

“In what, Ted?! In what?! I don’t see a horse ‘n carriage anywhere, do you?!” Harley yells, fed up with their ignorance.

“Everyone back in the house,” Dean shouts. “Move! Now!”

***

“Whatever's outside, it can't get in this circle. As long as the salt line is unbroken, this is the safest place to be,” Dean explains.

“Safe from ghosts?” Brian asks skeptically.

“Actually, yeah, so shut up and just listen to us,” Chase snaps. These people were starting to get on her nerves.

“Okay, I’m not listening to this anymore. Come on. I got to get my family out of here.”

“Nobody is going anywhere until we kill this thing,” Harley reiterates.

“Sir, please, this is what we do.” Sam casts a wary glance at the other hunters. “Just trust us.”

“You hunt ghosts?” Danny asks excitedly.

“You betcha,” Chase says with a smile.

“Like Scooby-Doo?”

It is believed at this moment, Chase and Sam could’ve sworn they saw both Dean and Harley fall in love with the boy. Both of their faces widened with grins as they nod.

“Better,” Dean says playfully.

“You saw her outside, right? Okay. Does she look like either one of the girls?” Sam asks, showing them a couple of pictures.

“Her. She was paler and a lot dirtier, but that was her,” Kate says.

“That’s the girl in the walls,” Danny adds.

“The girl in the picture- she’s dead?”

“She killed herself in this house.”

“Wow, Harley. Tact,” Chase says flatly.

Harley just shrugs.

“So the maid got her story wrong?” Chase asks. “Rebecca didn’t get cremated?”

“Unless she’s attached to something else in the house,” Sam says.

“She hung herself in the attic, right?” Dean asks.

“You wanna babysit?” Sam asks. “I’ll check it out.”

“I’ll stay with Dean,” Chase says. “Harley, you go with Sam. Is that okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Harley asks, confusion written on her face.

Chase glances at Dean out of the corner of her eye, before quickly looking back at Harley. “No idea.”

“Weirdo.”

“Look—I don't care who hung themselves where. Maybe something is going on here, but—” Ted starts.

“It’s a spirit, man,” Dean says.

“No, it's just some backwoods hillbilly bitch, and I'm not about to sit around here waiting for her to go all Deliverance on my ass.”

Chase laughs at his comment. “Okay, so you’re not all bad.”

“Nobody’s leaving this house,” Dean snaps.

“Stop me,” Ted challenges.

Harley butts in between Ted and Dean, moving her jacket and flannel so her gun is visible. “Listen. I've got a gun. You don't get your ass back in that circle, you're gonna have yourself a third hole.”

“Technically a fifth.” Everyone looks at Chase with an annoyed expression. “What?”

“You guys cool?” Sam asks.

Chase and Dean nod. “Go,” Dean says.

***

Harley and Sam arrive in the attic and pull out their flashlights.

“God, there’s so much fucking dust,” Harley sighs, heading to an unmarked box on the floor.

“Yeah. Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Is Harley your real name, because there’s no record of a Harley Pawlak, but there was a C-”

“Don’t say it!”

“So that is you?”

“No, she’s who I used to be. She’s been dead a long time.”

“What happened?”

“Trauma, growing up. Pick your poison.”

“Off limits, noted.”

“Wait. Why were you looking me up?”

“I did it awhile back, I think it was after the first time we caught you and Dean sleeping together.”

“Had to make sure I was good enough for your brother?”

“Yeah. Kinda.”

“You do know nothing is actually going on right?”

“So Dean has told me, many times.” Sam sighs before perking up at finding a journal. “I think I found something!”

“What?”

“Rebecca’s journal.”

“Sweet! Now we can get out of this musty old attic,” She says before sneezing.

***

“I can’t believe we got ourselves into this,” Chase groans. “This would all be over with already if you lot had just left when we told you to.”

“You couldn’t really expect us to leave,” Brian says.

“Well, no, I merely said it for the sake of my health,” Chase responds sarcastically.

“Chase, why are you such a child all the time?” Dean asks.

“And why are you such a dick?”

“Now that’s just uncalled for,” Dean says with an eye roll and a pout.

“Hey. Fonzie. Question for you. This indestructible force field made out of salt... Have to be kosher stuff, or what?” Ted asks.

Chase whirls around, but Dean grabs her arm, pulling her towards him.

“Ted, knock it off,” Susan says.

They all freeze when they hear a sound only a small distance away.

“Dean-”

“It’s fine.”

“What was that?” Kate asks.

They all look around, before spotting her. The girl from the photo was there, opening the door.

“Stay calm, guys,” Chase says.

“She's a ghost. She can't come in the circle,” Dean explains.

They all watch carefully as she slowly approaches them. She stops at the salt line and gazes at it warily, before brandishing a knife, and stepping over the line. Chase blanches while Dean looks on in panic.

“I thought you said ghosts couldn't cross the circle.”

“They can’t. She’s not a ghost.”

The girl attacks Dean, but he manages to fight and hold her off.

“Dean!” Chase cries out in panic, attempting to help him.

“Chase, get them out of here!”

“But-”

“Now!”

Chase nods before herding the others outside, running away from Dean.

She sighs in relief however, hearing Sam and Harley.

***

“Where is everyone?” Dean asks, coming outside to see Brian and an annoyed Chase.

“Hiding, which is where this lunatic should be, but he isn’t.”

“I want to help.”

“Go get your family,” Dean says. “Go!”

Brian rushes off to get his family while the four hunters look at one another. “So,” Chase says. “Not a ghost.”

“Just a girl then,” Sam adds.

“Girl?” Dean asks incredulously. “It's psycho Nell. I'm telling you, man—humans.”

“So who is she then?” Harley asks.

“I don't know. Maybe it's the daughter, Rebecca. Maybe she didn't hang herself.”

“Dean, you realize she would be like, fifty now or something.”

“Well, what did you two find in the attic?” Dean asks Harley and Sam.

“Not much,” Sam says.

“Just Rebecca’s old diary.”

“I wish you'd found a howitzer. Listen, we got to get this family safe. I mean, it's just a human, so they can make a run for it. We just got to hold her off,” Dean says.

“We're okay,” Susan says as the family runs up to the hunters.

“Danny! Ted!” Brian calls out. “We’ve got to go!”

“I’m good!” Ted calls back, running over.

“Danny, come on!” Susan calls this time.

“Danny!” Brian calls again. “Buddy, we got to go!”

“Told you it was some crazy bitch,” Ted says.

“Yeah, you did. Want a sticker or something?” Chase asks, rolling her eyes.

“Head to town. We’ll take it from here,” Sam says.

“Danny, come on, baby! We're leaving!” Susan calls again.

“Danny, we’ve got to go!”

“Brian, where- where is he?”

“Danny!”

“Danny!” Susan calls.

“Suse, Suse, Suse. We will find Danny, I promise you,” Brian says.

“No,” Susan says, in denial, shaking her head as though she couldn’t believe this was happening.

“No. Take Kate and go now. Now, while you still have a chance.”

“Not without Danny.”

“I am not going out there with mom alone.”

“She’s right,” Dean says. “Until we find your son, the safest place for you right now would be in the shed.”

Kate looks at him like he’s grown another head, “I’m not going in there either.”

“Yes, you are. It is the best defense. The windows are boarded up. It's got one door. It's our best shot right now. Trust me,” Harley says.

Kate looks at her warily, but nods finally.

“Suse, Kate, go.” Brian nods towards the shed. “Go.”

“Okay,” Sam starts. “You three go take the house,” he continues, gesturing to Harley, Dean, and Ted. “The three of us will take outside.”

***

Dean, Harley, and Ted walk into the house. Ted begins poking around the room and finds a butcher’s knife. While Dean investigates the walls and Harley the floor; actually doing something useful.

“What are you doing?” Ted asks.

“She's human. She had to come from somewhere.” Harley answers in a snarky manner.

Dean finds a loose board and pulls it free of the rest of the wall. Ted flinches at the smell emanating from the hole.

“You smell that?” Ted asks, scrunching up his nose.

“Every day,” Dean replies.

“You get used to it,” Harley adds.

Dean pulls a knife out and shines his flashlight through the hole before entering it, “Come on.”

Harley quickly followed suit with Ted in tow. They stop at a hole.

“You’re not going down there,” Ted says.

“Do you want to?” Harley challenges.

Ted stays silent.

“That’s what I thought.”

Dean starts lowering himself down, “Please nobody grab my leg. Please nobody grab my leg.”

Harley does the same after him. Dean shines his flashlight throughout the room. When it lands on Buster’s body torn to shreds. Dean quickly turns around and turns Harley so she’s facing away from the dog.

“What are you doing?” Harley asks, confused.

“Just get out of the hole,” Dean says.

“Why?”

“Just trust me, you don’t want to see this.”

“Okay?” Harley says unsure, but struggles to get up before Dean gives her a boost.

“Danny?” Dean calls out after Harley gets back up.

“Find anything?” Ted asks.

“Yeah, her kitchen,” Dean responds.

“Her what?”

Ted turns around and the girl stabs him through the neck.

“Dean! She’s here!” Harley yells as Ted falls on her.

Dean hurries to climb through the hole while Harley pushes Ted’s body off of her.

***

Chase paces back and forth, ignoring the stares of the rest of the family, as well as her own brother.

“Chase,” Sam says. Chase doesn’t even hear him, mumbling to herself. “Chase!” Sam repeats.

Chase’s head jerks up, as she finally takes notice of Sam. “Yeah, what?”

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Pacing. You’re giving me anxiety.”

“Yeah, well, I have anxiety all the time, so deal with it.”

Sam rolls his eyes as Chase begins to pace again, continuing her incessant mumbling.

“Look, why are we just standing here? Let’s go check the house,” Brian suggests.

“Yeah, no bueno. No offense, but that’s an awful idea,” Chase says.

“It’s better than pacing around like you! How’s that gonna help?” Brian demands.

“You wanna go? You’re only in this mess because you prideful assholes didn’t want to listen to us in the first place!”

Brain turns away, silenced by the indisputable facts of Chase’s accusation.

“Best thing we can do is just wait for the others to get back, okay?” Sam says, trying to ease the tension in the air.

A few moments later, the group startles at the sudden knocking.

“Sam, it’s us,” Dean says.

“Chase, could you please open the door?” Harley asks, sounding slightly aggravated.

“Help me,” Chase says, jumping into action to move the items blocking the door.

Harley and Dean rush in as soon as the door opens, only to shut it behind them.

“Where’s Danny? Did you find him?” Susan asks hurriedly.

“No,” Dean says shortly.

“Okay, well where’s Ted?”

“Outside.”

“Well why doesn’t he come inside?”

Chase at that moment realizes what happened.

“Because I had to carry him out. I’m sorry,” Dean continues, looking to the ground.

“What- what does that mean?”

“Are you saying he’s dead?” Brian asks.

“No, of course not. That’s not what he’s saying, right?” Susan asks.

“We were in the walls and she attacked,” Harley explains.

“Oh my God,” Susan gasps.

“I couldn’t make it to him in time,” Dean continues.

“Uncle Ted is dead?” Kate asks, looking back and forth between the adults.

“She snuck up behind us, I’m sorry Kate,” Harley says gently.

Dean leaves the shed and Harley follows behind him.

Chase looks at them as they leave before sighing heavily. She turns to Sam. “Anything useful in there?” she asks, gesturing to Rebecca’s diary.

Sam shakes his head, “Not yet.”

“We’ll find him, Suse. We will.”

“Where else is there to look? He’s dead,” Susan says dejectedly.

“Don’t say that,” Chase says gently, cutting in. “We will get your son back.”

“And if he’s already dead? She killed my brother and now she’s killed my son.”

“Danny is still alive,” Brian says.

“No, he isn’t,” Susan argues.

“Yes, he is. Do you remember what he said about the girl who lived in the walls? She said he could stay,” Brian explains.

Chase looks at him in shock. “Wow, you actually just said something useful.”

“I just don't understand why this happens to us. I mean, we're good people. We're a good family.”

“What happened to Andy happened, okay? I cannot change that. But I will find Danny, I promise you. And when I do, we are gonna be fine. You and me, the kids, we're gonna be fine.”

Chase looks to Sam and takes notice of his eyes darting away from them and back to the diary. She shakes her head lightly.

Brian nods to Chase before heading outside, presumably to where Dean and Harley had gone to.

***

“You okay?” Harley asks.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be,” Dean responds not so convincingly.

“Because I know you. You’ll blame Ted’s death on yourself. Which is ridiculous. If anyone should get the blame it should be me. Not that I actually care.”

“You just got up there.” Dean defends her.

“So it was no one’s fault.”

“ I guess you're right. But I doubt my subconscious will accept that.”

“Fair enough.”

“The most important thing is you’re still alive, so there’s that at least.”

“Did I just get Dean Winchester to look on the bright side?” Harley teases.

“I think plenty of positive thoughts.”

“Like what?”

“Like you without a bra, see positive.”

“Pervert.”

“You love it.”

“I tolerate it.”

***

Brain stares up at the house, taking deep breaths, trying to keep himself calm.

“Andy your son?” Dean asks. Brian glances at him quickly. He nods.

“Oldest. He got himself killed in a car accident last year.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It nearly tore Suse and I apart. Still could, I imagine. That's why we moved here. Fresh air, fresh start. Not even my line. Marriage counselor. 'Course, she might be right. After all, what could possibly go wrong in the country?”

Harley allows herself a bitter laugh, to which Brian raises his brows, cracking a smile.

“I'm getting your son back. If it's the last godforsaken thing I do,” Dean says seriously.

“Why do you care so much?” Brian asks him.

“Dean,” Sam says. “Harley.”

The three look to see Chase and Sam approaching them. Sam holds up the diary.

“We gotta talk,” Chase says shortly.

***

“What is that?” Dean asks as the four of them walk into the house.

“Rebecca’s diary,” Harley says. “Sam and I found it earlier.”

“I just finished reading it,” Sam explains.

“And?” Dean asks.

“That girl back there? Pretty sure she was Rebecca's daughter,” Chase explains.

“Rebecca had a kid?” Harley asks.

“It's all she talks about. Being pregnant, being ashamed of being pregnant,” Sam explains.

“Jeez, rent Juno and get over it. Wait, why kill herself after the baby?” Dean asks.

“Wow, Dean. Sympathetic,” Chase responds sarcastically.

“Maybe because her dad called her a dirty little whore and said he was gonna lock the baby up,” Sam responds.

“Why would he say that?” Harley asks.

Chase and Sam exchange glances before pointedly looking back at Harley and Dean.

“Oh, gross.”

“Yeah,” Chase says.

“So the daddy was the baby daddy too?” Dean asks.

“Dean, you have got to work on being tactful.”

“Dude was a monster, Dean,” Sam says.

“Wow, a story ripped from an Austrian headline. Humans,” Harley says, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Harley, you’re still partially human,” Chase reminds her.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“So she's been locked up her whole life?” Dean asks.

“You saw her eyes. Has she ever seen light? She's barely human,” Sam says.

“Okay, so, what, then, she's been caged up like an animal and she busts out and ganks dear old Dad? Slash Granddad?” Dean asks.

“I guess,” Sam shrugs.

“Well, can't say I blame her,” Chase says. “Someone did that to me, I might’ve not lasted as long. I definitely would have snapped eventually though.”

“Yeah, I can’t say I blame her either,” Dean agrees.

“I'm sure her life was hell, Dean. It doesn't mean she gets a free pass for murder.”

“Like you know what hell's like.”

Sam makes a surprised and regretful face, “I didn't-”

“Forget it,” Dean says.

“What the hell, Dean?”

Dean looks to Chase in shock.

“You can’t not talk to us about it, then use it against us, Dean. That’s not fucking fair.”

“You can’t even begin to imagine what hell is like-”

“Yeah, because you never fucking talk to us, Dean! So shut the hell up about it or tell us. Then, then you might be able to use that against us.”

Dean just stares at Chase in shock, before turning away.

“So where do we find her?” Sam interjects awkwardly, trying to break the silence.

“Kid's gotta eat, right?” Dean says, ignoring Chase.

“What?”

“He kept her hidden, locked up, but he had to feed her, didn't he?”

“I guess.”

“I think we know where,” Harley says, realizing where Dean was going with his train of thought.

***

The four hunters are breaking a hole into the kitchen wall, letting light into the shaft of the dumbwaiter.

“Could've kept her hidden here for years. Kept her fed, nobody would ever know,” Sam says.

Brian, who had insisted on coming with them, calls out for his son. “Danny! Danny!”

Dean shines a light down the shaft. “Watch out, I'm going down.”

“No. That's my son,” Brian attempts to argue.

“I know it is, but I said that I would get him. I will. Let me.”

Dean looks down and up the shaft and scoots through the hole, then starts to climb down the side.

“Hey, you got curtains? We need rope,” Chase says, getting an idea.

While Sam holds the light for Dean, Brian and Harley search around for curtains or fabric they can tie together for rope.

“You good down there?” Chase calls out.

“Yeah, just got to the bottom!” Dean pauses, obviously rustling around a bit. “Bitch is a klepto,” he finally mutters.

They all wait, having tied together enough curtains to make rope long enough, and finally, after several minutes, hear a boy’s yell.

“Was that Danny?” Brian asks.

“Know of any other boy we’re looking for?” Chase asks sarcastically.

Sam drops one end of a rope of knotted curtains down the shaft. Danny appears at the bottom.

“Danny!” Sam exclaims. Upon his urging, Danny ties himself into the rope.

“Okay!” Danny calls up, signalling that it’s clear to hoist him up.

“Okay, pull!” Sam says.

“Come on, buddy. Come on, buddy. Don't look back, Danny. Just come on, come on,” Brian mutters as they continue to pull Danny up the shaft.

Once Danny is to the top, Brian grabs onto him, hugging him. “Come on. You okay? It's okay.”

“Get him out of here. You gotta go,” Chase says.

As soon as Danny and Brian have left, Sam turns the light back down the shaft.

“Dean?” Harley calls.

“Dean!” Chase says again.

Sam quickly starts descending the rope, hearing a gunshot go off. Harley and Chase hold onto the rope, steadying it for Sam.

Five minutes later, the two reappear, climbing up the rope.

“Oh thank God,” Chase cries, throwing herself onto Dean. “I got so worried that the last thing I’d said to you was about-”

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” Dean says, trying to be soothing, hugging his younger sister. He brushes a hand through her hair, making eye contact with Harley, who also shows relief at Dean being safe.

***

Dean jacks down the Impala after replacing the tires. Sam pulls Dean’s duffel out of the repacked trunk and throws it in the back of the car.

Harley and Chase pack up their things, Jack parked alongside Baby. Brian and Susan walk over.

“Thanks for the head start,” Dean says.

“Why doesn't it surprise me you guys don't like the police?” Brian asks.

“Because it’s not surprising,” Chase says.

“It's sort of a mutual-appreciation thing, really,” Sam responds.

“Well, thank you.”

“Thank you,” Susan says.

“You okay?” Dean asks the couple.

“No, we're the opposite of okay, but we're together,” Susan replies.

“Thanks again,” Brian says.

The group nods to the family before gathering the last of their things and heading on their way.

***

Sam, Harley, Chase, and Dean all sit around, eating burgers. Well, the first three are. Dean, however, simply unwraps his burger, only to rewrap it.

“You okay?” Sam asks.

“You know, I felt for those sons of bitches back there. Lifelong torture turns you into something like that.”

“You were in hell, Dean. Look, maybe you did what you did there, but you're not them. They were barely human,” Sam says.

“Yeah, you're right. I wasn't like them. I was worse. They were animals, Sam, defending territory. Me? I did it for the sheer pleasure.”

“What?” Chase asks, slightly confused.

“I enjoyed it, guys. They took me off the rack, and I tortured souls, and I liked it. All those years, all that pain. Finally getting to deal some out yourself. I didn't care who they put in front of me. Because that pain I felt, it just slipped away. No matter how many people I save, I can't change that. I can't fill this hole. Not ever.”

“That’s not your fault, Dean,” Chase says.

“It is, and I’m going to have to live with that.”

Chase, determined to be of some support, simply wraps an arm around Dean’s waist. “But you will never have to live with that weight by yourself. Not as long as you have me. Not as long as you have us.”

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aftermathdb · 4 years

Text

DEATH BATTLE Review: Danny Phantom vs. Jake Long

The 2000s go at it. Now all that’s left is for a certain fire tyrant to fight a certain sky tyrant, and the circle will be complete.

I have no idea why people thought that Dante Basco would voice Jake in the episode. He’s legally not allowed to. For some reason, people think that DEATH BATTLE is some big-shot production, when they’re clearly not.

Also, Butch Hartman endorsed this fight. So… that’s a thing.

Danny Phantom′s Preview.

So, we open up on Boomstick rapping the Danny Phantom theme song, which sets the tone for the rest of the episode. Going over Danny’s typical teenager depicted in the early 2000s life… And his parents’ weird occupation.

Before Boomstick stops rapping Danny’s theme song, he does go over how Danny got his powers, and became a superhero.

And we get an early Wiz and Boomstick segment.

There’s a bit of a pause as Boomstick refuses to laugh at Wiz’s joke.

This goes on for a bit, because they go over how strong the Ghostly Wail is.

But then they go over how powerful Danny’s ecto beams are, and how they are comparable to actual lasers as they do all the typical laser stuff like bouncing off reflective surfaces, straight line movement, burn, and magnification. So Danny’s attacks are light speed, and he’s dodging them too.

And we even get a calc for how strong it is.

So Danny’s attack comes out to over 550 Tons of TNT.

The hosts go over his feats,

like how much he’s fought over his career.

Like this Dragon Girl Dorothea.

Who has an attack output 7.5 Kilotons of TNT from dispersing clouds.

And he’s even beaten his alternate evil future self… Dan Phantom… Yeah, Boomstick points out how ridiculous it is too.

And right before Danny’s end quote… Even Wiz gets in on rapping Danny’s theme song.

Jake Long′s Preview.

Jake’s preview, similar to Danny’s, opens with a brief history of how Jake got his powers, and a brief moment of him singing the Jake Long theme song.

And fairly early on, we get another animated segment.

This goes on for a bit where we get a gag of Boomstick claiming to have what amounts to ninja insurance.

Regardless, the hosts then go on to Jake’s powers, as they go over the fact that they are magic in nature.

This goes on for a bit as Jake has been noted to have been able to strike many different opponents that ordinary people would have trouble fighting against if they could at all.

Like, ghosts, for example.

And we also go over just how powerful Jake’s fire breath is.

Yeah… minor complaint is that there’s not a whole lot to go off of in terms of Jake’s stats. They mainly focus on his story and how he struggled with his life as both a magical protector and as a teenager.

But still, we get a similar thing from Sam Jack vs. Afro Sam in regards to Jake’s end line.

(Why does Jake get to have his catchphrase as his end quote but Danny doesn’t?)

The Battle Itself.

Luis and Zack are mainly on animation, Danny will be voiced by Nicholas Andrew Louie and Jake will be voiced by Dom Dinh. American Phantom by Brandon Yates. And audio led by Chris Kokkinos.

So, we open up on a museum at night, where Danny is putting something back, and Jake accuses him of stealing something “else” and instigates the fight.

So, Danny responds in kind.

Regardless of how this fight started, it had to have “Dragon Up!” and “Goin’ Ghost!” in it. So, I really appreciate that.

Anyways, we get some minor back and forth, with Danny being able to dodge Jake’s fire with ease, and Jake not really being able to handle Danny’s flight speed that well early on.

In fact, it takes a while for Jake to land a hit, so Danny goes intangible to avoid more blows.

This obviously doesn’t work, and Jake gets to do his combo.

This goes on for a while until the fight gets taken outside.

Opposing element beam struggle?- Oh YES!

Now, this goes on for a bit until Danny’s wins out, and crashes Jake into a Red vs. Blue promotional billboard.

The two do battle with their respective cloning techniques, as we get into an area where, well…

Finishing blow in

5…

4…

3…

2…

1…

For those of you wondering, Danny possessed Jake, slammed him into some buildings, then vaporized him.

Verdict + Explanation.

So, right off the bat, Jake was definitely in the advantage with training, and they both have comparable reaction speeds, but Danny had the advantage everywhere else.

For starters, while Jake’s wide array of powers gave him some edges, Danny had counters for everything. Cloning was a moot point, and his power level was well above that of the ghosts that Jake fought.

In addition, Jake’s fire blast wasn’t anywhere close to the level of power to the power of Dorothea’s fire breath, which Danny took head-on. So Jake didn’t have any real strength to get past Danny’s defenses.

Danny was basically Hiei in this fight. He had plenty of counters to whatever Jake could throw at him. Fire breath?- Ecto Blasts can match it and then some. Flight?- Danny’s faster. Heightened senses?- Doesn’t do much against invisibility.

And Jake had no real counter to Danny’s possession. So Danny could pretty much just force Jake to take himself out.

Overall impression.

Tad disappointed that this wasn’t hand-drawn. I was really looking forward to a hand-drawn fight between these two, since it’s their most well-known medium. Also, there wasn’t a whole lot of references to either characters’ series withing the fight. Though, to be honest, I wouldn’t have minded a cameo by Dante Basco in the form of a security guard wondering what was going on… I think it would have been funny.

(Seriously though, Dante is legally not allowed to voice Danny in non-official material. I saw comments wondering about that, and like… come on guys. It’s not that hard to figure out).

Overall, the fight felt pretty well-paced, the music is awesome, and the result is well-explained.

Could’ve used some more quips though…

8.7/10

Next time…

Oh yay. Now if only one of these combatants had a super toxic fanbase, I would totally go in and make fun of them in my story if I weren’t taking a break from that.

And also: Cue comments claiming that She-Ra is gonna win because of the recent finale of her Netflix series. Because toxicity is totally how you earn respect for your character. Right Batcult?- You definitely earned respect for your guy by claiming that Panther only won because of Black History Month all those years back, huh?

Is there a fight that you want me to review? - Send an ask/request, and I’ll look into it!

Do you want to read my fanfic based around DEATH BATTLE itself? click here!

Thank you for reading, and I hope to see you next time for…

Mighty Lady Rumble.

#Death Battle #Deathbattle #review

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artificialqueens · 6 years

Text

How to Adore the Seasons 2/4 (Adore-centric) - Mac

AN: Hi there friends! This is the second part in a four part series I’m doing where I pair up Adore with someone else and a season to describe how that particular person loves Adore. Idk if that makes sense. Oh well.

Summary: It’s Adore’s birthday, and Alaska has planned some surprises.

Summer (Alaska/Adore):

“She turned to the sunlight

And shook her yellow head,

And whispered to her neighbor:

“Winter is dead.” ― A.A. Milne, When We Were Very Young

Adore woke up to the sound of screaming.

Then she let herself slump back into the cool sheets when she figured out where, or more specifically, who the sound was coming from.

She groaned and pulled the blankets over her head, as Alaska poked at her with her nail-less fingers.

“Rise and shine bitch. Let’s go.”

“Mhhhhhmph.” Came from under the blankets.

“What? I can’t hear you.” Adore could feel the smile in Alaska’s voice, and it made her want to strangle the blonde even more than normal.

Adore removed the covers and pointedly looked, well tried to look, her eyes were practically glued shut, at Alaska. “I said fuck you.”

Alaska mocked offense, “Is that any way to treat your elders.”

“When they wake you up at 4 in the morning it is.”

“We gotta get going if we want to catch it.”

Adore wasn’t going to ask what they were supposed to catch. She wasn’t. She was going to go back to sleep. She wasn’t goin-“Catch what?” SHIT

“You’ll see.” Alaska said with a smirk that wasn’t altogether menacing, but definitely not reassuring. “But you have to GET UP first.”

They played tug-of-war with the blankets for a few minutes before Adore’s fatigued muscles gave out. “Fine. But fuck you still.”

Alaska gave a little victory dance that Adore attempted, and failed, not to laugh at. She then began traipsing about Adore’s room, throwing open curtains and humming some ridiculous song that Adore couldn’t be bothered to figure out. Adore took her sweet time getting up and dressed, pointedly ignoring Alaska’s huffs when she took too long. Just as the shirt went over her head, Adore’s world went dark.

“The FUCK?” Adore pulled at the blindfold.

Alaska batted her hands away. “It is a surprise! Keep it on.“

“If you make me fall, I swear.”

“I won’t. Just trust me.”

Adore bites her tongue on a smart reply and allows herself to be lead to a car and driven away. “If it were anyone else,” she mumbles to herself.

Adore hears Alaska fumble with something for a minute, then the unmistakable sound of a disk tray retracting, and suddenly the car is full of music. And curse Alaska for knowing all of Adore’s favorite music. She was really trying to be angry at the older queen, but the unconscious smile on her lips gave her away.

Alaska saw it, but wouldn’t mention it. She would however, file it away in her mind to be brought out at a later date. And that feeling that accompanied Adore’s smile would also need to be analyzed later. But now, now wasn’t about her.

Alaska kept checking her watch nervously, and gave an audible sigh of relief when they finally arrived. She hopped out and pulled Adore with her. The two walked only a few steps before they stopped.

“Just one more minute now.” Alaska said, mainly to herself. They stood side by side for what felt like ages, before Adore felt Alaska’s hands beside her face.

Adore’s world went from pitch black to full of color in .2 seconds. The sunrise filled the entire horizon line and Adore’s lungs to the brim.

“Wow.” Adore breathed.

“Yeah.” Alaska smiled.

The orange sun was just barely peeking its head up around the curve of the earth, but the color had spread already. Pinks and light purples mixed with blues and yellows around the edges of the horizon. The whole thing blended together to paint the most beautiful art piece either queen had ever seen.

The two stood there for what felt like ages but also only seconds. The sun was no longer eye level when Alaska slipped the blindfold back on Adore’s face.

“HEY!” Adore shouted in indignation.

“We aren’t done yet.”

Adore smiled. A full-unbridled one this time. If this next surprise was anything like the first she knew waking up at the ass-crack of dawn would be worth it.

They drove for a much shorter distance this time. Adore noticed, because she had only just started to get comfortable when Alaska came to a stop. They both hopped out, and Adore smiled again. Her favorite breakfast place. She could tell by the smell alone. It was only open one day of the week, and at the most awful times. As a creature of the night, Adore never could find herself awake before 11:00am, and thus, she missed her opportunity for the most delicious omelet every week.

Adore was ecstatic, and then she was confused. It was a Tuesday. This place was only open on Thursdays. Alaska, sensing the question at the tip of her tongue, tried to move them along by pulling off the blindfold and shaking her hands as if to say ‘ta da.’ Adore let it go for now, the rumbling in her stomach taking priority.

They entered the empty restaurant, picked the best seat in the house, and had their food within minutes of sitting down. Adore didn’t hesitate before digging in. Alaska, ever the patient one, was content to wait a few moments between each bite and just smile at the younger girl.

When Adore finally came up for air, Alaska spoke softly, “Happy Birthday Danny.” Adore beamed at her, and the older queen immediately burst into giggles. Adore looked at her confusedly until Alaska motioned with her hand at her own face. “You’ve got something right…” Adore struggled for a few moments before Alaska took pity, and wiped the stray cheese residue from her cheek. Adore and Alaska sat in relative silence afterwards. There was no rush, there was only time.

Adore isn’t sure how long they sat, only that when they finally got up, the newborn sun now hung high up above them.

Alaska re-did the blindfold and proceeded to take Adore to every activity Adore enjoyed doing, and even some things she had never done before. They went to a trampoline park, and got so incredibly sweaty that Alaska would definitely need to get her car deep cleaned. They had a picnic in the arboretum. They went zip-lining and swimming and talked for hours about the complexities of life, drag, and the pursuit of marijuana. Adore couldn’t remember a time she felt more understood by another person.

Till the last stop.

Adore let herself once again be blindfolded and whisked away to an undisclosed location. This time, when they came to a halt, Adore couldn’t even begin to figure out where they were. She listened for any identifying sounds, but her brain kept coming up empty. All she could tell was that they were outside. Alaska led her by the hand up a few wooden stairs, and then allowed her to stand by herself a few moments.

“You can take it off now.”

Adore did as instructed, and the resulting chant of “Happy Birthday” rung out. Adore spun around wildly, trying to get a glimpse of everything and everyone. All around her were the people she loved most in her life, a beautifully decorated park, and mountains of food. Before she could take it all in, her mother enveloped her in a huge hug. Bianca and Courtney followed next and squeezed the life out of her, whispering how proud they were, and getting a few jabs in here and there.

The party was magnificent. There was a pool and a gazebo and a food truck. Anything Adore could have ever needed was right with her. The party had Alaska written all over it.

Adore searched high and low for any trace of the blonde, but kept missing her. Finally she spotted the lanky queen, and Adore grabbed her friend before she could dart away.

“Hey Lasky. Uh. I just wanted to say thanks for everything today. You did so much, and I really have no idea why, cause its just little old me, but…but thank you. Really. For everything. “Alaska looked down at her, and for the first time that day, Adore could see some trepidation in her eyes. “Whats wrong Lasky?”

“I just…I didn’t want to tell you here. This is your party and you should be being happy with everyone.” Alaska looked this way and that, rather guiltily.

“What’s going on? You can tell me. Anything. You know that.”

Alaska looked unsure, but pulled Adore closer to her so she could whisper, “I’mmovingnextweektonewyorkforajobandiwantedtotellyoubuticouldntandimgoingtomissyousofuckingmuch”

“Wait, hold on, slow down. You’re moving?”

“Yeah.” Alaska was quick to clarify, “I wanted to tell you. All this time I wanted to, but I didn’t know how, and I knew as soon as I did it would be real.” The older queen looked devastated. “I’m just going to miss you, and I was scared I would lose you. So I put it off, and I think all those feelings bubbled up and then…this.” Alaska gestured to the party around them.

Adore looked at her long and hard. She wasn’t sure if she was angry or sad or happy. So she resorted to doing the thing she always did when she felt overwhelmed, she hugged Alaska.

It was a fierce, strong hug that left the two feeling equal parts better, and like they bruised some ribs.

“Ok.” Adore finally said.

“Ok?”

“Yeah. Ok. That doesn’t change anything. You are still my best friend. I still would do anything for you. I still think you are the most amazing person in this world. Nothing will have to change, except I guess that whole time change thing. But other than that, nothing has to change. You don’t have to lose me.”

Alaska’s face broke out into the biggest grin Adore had seen on her in a while. Alaska launched herself at Adore, and the two stood holding each other for ages, until Bianca yelled across the park at them to get a room.

They finally broke away from the embrace, but kept their fingers interlocked as they made their way back over to the others and they stayed that way till they reached the security line at the airport. And while they may physically have untangled their fingers at the gate, they would forever be intertwined.

#how to adore the seasons #mac #friendship fic #fluff #adore delano #alaska thunderfuck #rpdr fanfiction #adore delaska

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xxblackfeathersxx · 6 years

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Okay, I may be alone in this, but I genuinely dislike Rachel Gardener as a character.

A little bit of spoilers for those who are only watchin' the anime n' haven't seen or played the game all the way through.

Rachel Gardener is a piece of shit of a person. She, as a person n' character, is not a good person. A lot of people can enjoy the depth of her character I suppose, but to me, there is not a lot there. There was some things in her past that made her into a little shit, but many of the things she does has no excuse n' is purely her own fault.

She was abused as a child by the stereotypical type of abusive parents. But if one has payed attention, they weren't always abusive. Rachel even says that her parents used to be good to her at one point. It just turned into an abusive household later in her life. Yes, the abuse would leave scars, as it would with any child. But she would still have some sort of attachment to her parents as they only later became abusive. But one cannot deny that she felt no guilt for killin' her father. She didn't feel guilt for killin' the stray puppy either. No guilt when she sewed them up together. She was purely focused on the idea of 'the perfect family'. She only felt bad for her actions when she read that she wouldn't go to heaven because of what she did.

In my opinion based of observations on the character, she does not have any true closeness to Issac/Zack. She views him as a tool to use to satisfy her own selfish desire. She reads in the bible that she cannot go to heaven for what she did to her parents, (n' a puppy), but she makes the conclusion that she could be saved from Hell if someone else kills her. She can't kill herself because it's considered a sin in the bible, n' sinners go to Hell. So meetin' a serial killer was the perfect tool to meet her wish to be killed so her soul is saved.

That's all she truly cares about. That's truly how I see it. She makes sure Zack/Issac stays alive to grant her her own wish. But she doesn't want him to find out what she did else it would mess up her soul bein' saved, least that's how she expressed her feelin's when she feared Zack/Issac to find out what she had done. N' when he finds out, she tries to kill him. Multiple times.

Some people will think that Danny manipulated her into it, but Danny was obeyin' her! Not the other way around. He followed her command, she never followed his. She, herself, wanted Issac/Zack dead for findin' out what she did.

She only cares about goin' to heaven n' gettin' away with what she did, to avoid the consequences of her actions.

That is the piece of shit character she truly is.

This is also purely my own opinion.

#spoilers #angels of death #rachel gardener #rant #angels of slaughter #issac foster #zack foster #rpg game #anime

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foreverydinger · 2 years

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30 — BDRP Character Wishlist: Gender Queer Edition

Note: I will not be suggesting FCs because I’m bad at that!

Raine Whispers: Listen, we need more enby characters here in Swynlake and I already mentioned I think Bard Specialty Sorcerers are such a cool concept! Magic! Through music! Why would anyone not want to do this?! You could even potentially talk about the Ethics of whether or not this is a good/safe thing to even be subjecting people to without consent given you’re using magic on people around you! Either way, I love Raine and I want someone to get them so my characters can befriend them! Plus this is a character with no skeleton so you can build so much yourself!!

Cat Absolem: So I want someone to come get Devyn’s BOSS! They have smoke manipulation magic which I feel like could be used for some really cool plots like escaping a town disaster or entertaining children! There are so many things that one could do with being able to twist and turn smoke around them! Gimme more work plots since clearly I don’t have enough with all my other characters while also diversifying your character archetypes and the town as a whole!

Wall-E // William Conner: Someone please take this character before I do because I’ve been STARING at them for, like, a year now and he just looks like the kind of character that would be the most fucking fun to play!!! He’s a robot that is becoming self-aware enough to want to explore being treated like a real person! He’s baby and someone please come take him before I do I’m literally begging!

Patty “Piglet” Littleton: Another character I absolutely cannot pick up but want to so badly. Piglet holds a special place in my heart and I just want someone to give them the love that they deserve! They’re an anxious little bean that I want to wrap in a warm blanket and protect! Art is their comfort and I just wanna squish their cheeks and I offer you Devyn as someone who could help them through their struggles!

Majd Carine: Who doesn’t want to fly? Plus I think we need more Middle Eastern representation in this group. I think that finding out what is going on with their powers since no one else in the family has any could be a fun little mystery. Is it an artifact that their parents found? Is it just a latent genetic thing?! Who knows?! Do you care?? You can fuckin fly and that’s dope as hell.

Experiment 626 aka Shane Young: This is partially to get myself past DD Stitch because that story told to me will truly haunt me for the rest of my days but also because this storyline is compelling to me. Also I think that Shane would be a really good addition to the VFD with the fact they have bullet-proof skin and stuff. Let’s get this shit gOIN with the VFD and see how far we can take their story!

Xīshuài Aoyun: Oh look ANOTHER enby I thought about getting but absolutely shouldn’t so YOU SHOULD TO SAVE ME FROM MYSELF!!!! ... Anyway... I think that Danny should have another lucky friend and that Lucky should come into town and see how far their chances can be stretched. I mean, they got a fortune gift from a fairy, that’s pretty fun! I think fairy gifts are just cool, why don’t any of my characters have fairy gifts?! Don’t be like me and get someone who does!!!

Terkita “Terk” O’Donnell: I cannot be the only child who was just a big ol’ simp for Terk growing up. I mean they’re SO COOL and SO BRASH and hey, your uncle is currently probably gonna lose the mayoral race against HADES ACHERON OF ALL PEOPLE so I think Terk should come to either Swynlake Secondary or Pride U and hang out with my kids. I think Tony would really like Terk with their mutual love of music, Devyn too since they like it LOUD!

Barry “Baymax” Maxwell: Intrigued by the robot idea but not wanting someone who was Freshly Created? Well Baymax is the character for you! They don’t know everything they’re capable of! They can help heal people (which could create some Drama with the Healing Talent pixies ngl) and I think that either them already working at Swynlake General or at least studying medicine at Pride U could be a really fun storyline to look into!

Blue Fairy: Okay, this skeleton isn’t distinctly gender diverse but I think that Blue really could be! This fairy godmother talent that doesn’t know what their abilities are but does spend all of their time helping children and making dreams come true is such a fantastic idea. Who doesn’t wanna help the kids??? There’s just something about this skeleton that feels very Queer to me, idk, maybe I’m just projecting given I’m a lesbian enby but I think one should consider the idea.

BONUS!!! Frederick Flamarion Frederickson IV: I just really think that having someone as the magical Pride U mascot would bring so much fun and intrigue into Swynlake. Who else wants to see a Gryphon start kicking criminal butt here in town? Personally I just really want Devyn to befriend him because I think they would be really funny together so please consider getting one of the funniest characters. Also I think they could work at The Looking Glass with Devyn, you cannot tell me Fred isn’t a stoner! .....And consider making him trans, I’m just saying!

#tw drugs #swynwrimo #swynwrimosammy

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thelastspeecher · 6 years

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NaNoWriMo ‘17 Day 23 - Don’t Get Short with Your Brother

Day 01 Day 02 Day 03 Day 04 Day 05 Day 06 Day 07 Day 08 Day 09 Day 10 Day 11 Day 12 Day 13 Day 14 Day 15 Day 16 Day 17 Day 18 Day 19 Day 20 Day 21 Day 22 Day 23 Day 24 Day 25 Day 26 Day 27 Day 28 Day 29 Day 30

Summary: Ford arrives at Stan’s house for another extended visit, but with a key difference. Inspired by this and this. [Stay-at-Home Stan AU] Word count: 1564

Angie answered the door. She looked around for a moment, confused.

“Excuse me,” a high-pitched voice said. Angie looked down. A young boy, about the same age as her daughters, was standing on the doorstep. Angie smiled at him and crouched down to his eye-height.

“Howdy there,” she said gently. The boy shuffled his feet nervously. “Aw, are ya lost?”

The only neighbors what have boys are the Thompsons and the Millers. And their children aren’t this age.

“No,” the boy said firmly. Angie frowned at him. He was wearing an oversized trenchcoat over his clothes.

Was he playin’ dress-up with someone? The boy reached a hand up to adjust his glasses, which were similarly oversized and threatening to slide down his face. Angie’s eyes widened. Twelve fingers? Now that she had picked up on the most glaring feature, she could see other Pines characteristics; the wild curls, the ruddy nose, and the tendency to give off an air of grumpiness.

“…Stanford?” she whispered. The boy nodded. “Oh, Lord.”

“There was an accident,” Ford mumbled. “My current biological age is merely temporary, but Fiddleford thought it would be best if I stayed with you and Stan until I recover.”

“But neither of ya thought to let us know.” Ford adjusted his glasses again, but didn’t respond. “How did ya even get here?”

“I took the bus.”

“You took the- Gravity Falls is over twelve hours away!”

“I’m well aware of that.”

“No one on the bus questioned a small child traveling without an adult?” Angie asked. Ford shook his head. “Goodness. What is the world comin’ to?”

“Would you please let me in? I walked for about an hour until I found your house,” Ford said. Angie stood to her proper height.

“Come on in, hon,” she said, placing a gentle hand on Ford’s back and guiding him inside. She closed the door. Ford scowled at her.

“I’m older than you. Do not call me ‘hon’.”

“Instinct. Sorry.”

“Who was at the door?” Stan called from the kitchen, where he was doing the dishes.

“Yer brother. Sounds like Stanford is goin’ to spend some time with us. Again.”

“Really? Geez, Sixer, what’d ya do to get Fiddleford to kick ya out?” Stan asked, looking into the living room. His jaw dropped at the sight of Ford. “Hot Belgian waffles, Poindexter, what happened?”

“There was an accident during an experiment,” Ford said. “And…hot Belgian waffles?”

“I’m tryin’ out fake swears,” Stan explained. He dried his hands on a gingham dish towel. “Must’ve been one heck of an accident.”

“It could have been much worse. As it is, this is temporary, and Fiddleford will be able to determine the approximate date it will wear off.”

“You’re the same age as the girls,” Stan said. He grinned. “There’s an idea.” Ford took a nervous step backward, discomforted by his twin’s vicious smile. His diminutive feet trod on Angie’s toes. She instinctively placed a reassuring hand on the top of Ford’s head.

“What’s an idea?” Angie asked, stroking Ford’s curls.

“The girls don’t really have any friends yet. But they love their Uncle Ford. And now that he’s their age…”

“Yer suggestin’ Ford play with the girls while this situation works itself out?”

“Yep.”

“Look, I love Danny and Daisy,” Ford said, adjusting his glasses yet again. “But spending time with them while this age might give them the wrong idea. I’m their uncle, not their playmate.”

“Oh, please,” Angie said. “You play with ‘em all the time.”

“This is different,” Ford insisted.

“Yeah, it is,” Stan said. “But think about it. This ‘ll give ya a chance to bond with ‘em even more. And it’s not like they’re toddlers anymore. They’re five.”

“Stan was right about them not havin’ many friends,” Angie said in a low voice. “Once they start school, hopefully that ‘ll change. But right now, their main social interactions are with their parents. Socializin’ with someone their age will be good fer ‘em.” Ford sighed.

“Very well. I get the point.” He shoved Angie’s hand away from him. “But stop petting me! I don’t want to be treated like a child while I stay here, understand?”

“We’ll do our best,” Angie said. “But we reserve the right to restrict certain activities fer yer own safety.”

“I don’t agree to that.”

“If yer stayin’ under my roof, ya do,” Angie said firmly, putting her hands on her hips and staring Ford down with a steely gaze. Ford swallowed nervously.

“Y- yes, ma’am,” he stammered. Angie’s punishing demeanor evaporated. She threw her head back with a laugh.

“Lord, that ‘angry mom’ face works wonders!” she cackled. Ford scowled. “Aw, don’t get all scrunchy-faced,” Angie cooed, pinching his cheek. Ford slapped her hand away. “Why don’t ya go see yer lil nieces while Stan and I discuss how we’ll adjust things while ya stay.”

-----

Danny and Daisy walked into the kitchen, Daisy idly dragging her stuffed animal frog, Marlo, on the ground. The two girls cocked their heads curiously at what they saw.

“Daddy, why is Uncle Ford in the time-out chair?” Danny asked. Ford was indeed strapped into an old high-chair that Stan and Angie had repurposed for the use of time-outs. Judging by his reddened face and shouting, Ford was not pleased with the situation one bit. Stan turned from his de-aged twin brother and looked knowingly at his daughters.

“‘Cause he’s in time-out,” Stan replied.

“Why?” Daisy asked.

“Is it ‘cause he’s getting scrunchy-faced?” Danny suggested. Ford paused his shouts of protest for a moment.

“Why is that something your family says?” Ford asked Stan. Stan shrugged.

“It’s a McGucket thing. Now, are ya calmed down enough to get down?”

“I don’t need to be calm to get down, I am a grown man!” Ford shouted. “Stanley, let me down this instant!”

“Girls, go play in your room for a bit, okay?” Stan said. “Your Uncle Ford will join ya after he’s in a better mood.”

“Okay!” Daisy chirped. She wandered off. Danny waved at Stan and Ford before following her twin. Stan turned back to Ford.

“Ford, you’re not gettin’ down until you relax.”

“I’m not a child,” Ford snarled. “Don’t treat me like one!”

“I’ll stop treating you like one when ya stop actin’ like one!” Stan snapped. “You threw a temper tantrum just ‘cause ya couldn’t find your Scientific American issue.”

“Can you blame me for getting upset? There’s not much around here to stimulate my intellect!”

“What a loada bull. We’ve got all sortsa science stuff around here. Heck, your own sister-in-law has a doctorate!”

“Yeah, in herpetology,” Ford scoffed. Stan’s expression grew thunderous. Ford swallowed. “…I’d like to retract what I just said.”

“Smart move.”

“Maybe I have been acting childish,” Ford said after a moment. Stan nodded. “I just- I don’t know why. I’ve been keeping my regular hours, and yet I’m tremendously exhausted. I keep feeling overwhelmed by things and- and overreacting and-”

“Your brain might be thirty, but your body isn’t,” Stan interrupted. Ford blinked. “Sixer, you kept it at bay for a good amount of time, but you’ve gotta admit it. Until this thing wears off, you’re gonna need to have a schedule like the girls’.”

“Stanley!”

“Hey, I’m not happy about it either. Despite what ya might believe, treating my own twin like I treat my daughters isn’t my idea of a good time.” Stan sighed. “But it’s what’s best for your health.”

“I don’t want to be treated like a child,” Ford mumbled.

“I know. And Angie and I will do our best to keep the schedule and everything from damaging your dignity as much as possible. But Ford, ya need naps. Ya need to go to bed before nine. Ya need to have meals at a regular time. Ya need a schedule.”

“…Fine.” A moment passed. “Now will you let me down?”

“Oh, right.” Stan took Ford out of the high-chair and set him on the ground. He ruffled his de-aged twin’s hair. “Remember when ya first dropped by?”

“Three days ago. It feels like so much longer.”

“The naps ‘ll help with that. Sleeping makes time move faster. But anyways, Angie said we reserved the right to restrict activities. This is one of those times.”

“I just assumed it meant not allowing me to consume alcohol or coffee, or refusing to let me behind the wheel,” Ford said.

“Those, too,” Stan said. He walked over to the sink and ran a washcloth under cold water for a moment, then walked back to Ford. Ford blinked at him curiously. “For your face,” Stan explained. He crouched down and began to carefully rub Ford’s cheeks. Ford opened his mouth to protest, but changed his mind with a tired sigh.

“Why are you wiping my face?” Ford asked quietly.

“Gotta get the tear tracks washed away and you cooled off a bit. Not to mention, pitchin’ a fit like you just did uses a lotta energy. You’re tired now, aren’t ya?” Stan asked. Ford nodded. “This’ll wake ya up for just long enough that you can get in some PJs.”

“PJs?”

“It’s naptime, Ford.” Stan tossed the washcloth onto the table. It landed with a damp splat. He put a guiding hand on Ford’s shoulder. “Come on, I’ll tuck ya in.”

“Only if you promise to read me a story.”

“Wait, really?”

“Pfft, no.”

#btw the other ficlet i'm posting today in my attempts to catch up on prompts #also features a de-aged ford #today is the day for de-aged ford i guess #stay at home stan au #angie mcgucket #stanford pines #stanley pines #Danica Pines #Daisy McGucket #ficlet #my writing #naficwrimo #speecher speaks #Stangie Family

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thelastspeecher · 7 years

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Stan-at-Home - Chapter 5: Responsibility; Recovery

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 AO3

It’s finally here! The next chapter of “Stan-at-Home”, my fic that takes place in an AU where Stan is a stay-at-home dad. And as I was writing this chapter, I decided that, even with these super-long chapters, I can’t tell the story I want to tell in just six of them. So as of right now, this fic will have seven chapters. We’ll see if I write too much and I increase it to eight. Anyways, in this chapter, Ford gets high, there are multiple surprise visits, and brain surgery has side effects. Enjoy.

“Ugh.” Ford groaned without realizing what he was groaning about. He was in a room, somewhere. His surroundings were blurry, so he didn’t have his glasses on.

And…I’m not wearing underwear. Ford groaned again. What happened? Where am I? There was rustling to his left. He winced as someone carefully slid something onto his face. The room became clear. My glasses. Okay then.

“Howdy there, sleepin’ beauty,” a voice said quietly. Ford turned his head carefully. He frowned at the woman sitting by his bed. She looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite place her. “Stan actually just left to go pick up the kids.” She cocked her head. “Everything all right, Stanford? Doc said the surgery went well.”

“Angie!” Ford burst out suddenly. Angie jumped, startled.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing, I just- I remembered who you were,” Ford mumbled. Angie raised an eyebrow in amusement.

“Ya forgot me, huh? At least ya figured it out.” She leaned forward and adjusted one of Ford’s pillows. The paperback novel that was sitting on her lap slid off. “Oh, shoot,” she said in a good-natured tone, picking the book up again. Ford looked at it with interest.

“Is that a Star Trek novel?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes,” Angie replied.

“I didn’t take you for a Trekkie,” Ford remarked. Angie chuckled.

“Don’t think ya can call me that. I only ever seen a few episodes of the show. Mostly just read the books.”

“Why?”

“My older brother, Harper, he works in movie special effects. I like them sci-fi things, mostly ‘cause of the biological implications of ‘em. But I can’t watch a good old-fashioned space shootout without hearin’ Harper’s voice in the back of my mind, blabbin’ on and on ‘bout how they did it.”

“He works in Hollywood?” Ford asked, surprised.

“Yep.”

“Did he help with anything I might have seen?”

“Oh, definitely,” Angie said, grinning. “Ya ever heard of Indiana Jones?”

“No. There’s no possible way that your older brother worked on Raiders of the Lost Ark,” Ford said immediately.

“He did. His name’s in the credits. Harper pointed it out to me.”

“But that’s- your brother worked on a Spielberg film?”

“Yep. Got headhunted to work on the next one, too.”

“Holy-” Ford shook his head. “That’s incredible. Why did Fiddleford never tell me?” The lighthearted smile on Angie’s face slipped away. “…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“No, it’s- it’s fine, Stanford,” Angie said in a falsely cheery voice. She bit her lip and looked down at her lap, carefully smoothing the fabric of her purple skirt. Ford rubbed his eyes. The room was fuzzy again, but this time not in sight. Rather, it was fuzzy in feeling. He could have sworn his body was lighter than usual, and a question he’d wanted to ask for two weeks suddenly didn’t seem inappropriate.

“I’ve been wondering,” Ford said. “Back when we met with Dr. Carmichael the first time, Stan said something.” Angie frowned.

“He was fairly quiet, though.”

“True. But when she asked him if he had any sons, he said ‘Not right now’.” Ford looked at Angie. “Are you going to have any sons?”

“Is this yer way of askin’ me if I’m pregnant?” Angie asked. “‘Cause I ain’t. Not that it’s really yer business, anyways.”

“No, I wasn’t talking about right now. I mean, in the future, will you?”

“Whether or not I have a son is a bit out of my control,” Angie said. “I know Stan would like one. He’s got grand ideas ‘bout baseball and other stereotypical father-son things. Which is, frankly, ridiculous. There’s a 50% chance that if we did have a son, he’d be more McGucket than Pines, and wouldn’t be a fan of baseball and grillin’ and whatever dads do with sons in movies.”

“You’re dancing around the topic,” Ford said. “I can tell because I do the same thing.”

“Fine, I suppose I’ll tell ya what Stan ‘n I have planned, even though ya don’t need to know,” Angie said shortly.

She didn’t need to be rude about it.

“We’re plannin’ on at least one more kid. Not fer a couple years, though. We want the girls to be in kindergarten before they get a lil sibling. And if that goes well, havin’ a fourth, when the third one is ‘bout two or three.” Angie idly picked at her nails. “It’s a couple more kids ‘n I planned on, but Stan loves bein’ a dad so much. And I love havin’ a big fam’ly.” She rolled her eyes. “And even though the girls were a bit rough on me fer the nine months they lived in me, it wasn’t as bad as I was worried it’d be.”

“Yes, so, what is it like to be pregnant?” Ford asked. Angie eyed him.

“Them drugs are somethin’ else, huh.”

“I do feel a bit strange,” Ford conceded. “You didn’t answer my question, though.” He paused. “But maybe you did. If you’re willing to go through it two more times, it can’t be that bad.”

“Oh, darlin’,” Angie said, shaking her head. “Spoken like someone who won’t ever have to worry ‘bout bein’ pregnant. It ain’t no walk in the park. I mean, I couldn’t exactly take walks in the park when my feet swelled up.”

“Really. What else did the pregnancy do to your body?” Ford asked. Angie looked at him, perplexed.

“Stanford, yer my brother-in-law, yes. But that don’t really give ya authority to know my medical history.”

“We’re family,” Ford cajoled, the words slurring together. Angie adjusted his pillows again. “You can tell me.”

“I can, but I won’t. Anyways, seems like yer ‘bout to pass out. Get yer rest, Stanford. If yer still curious ‘bout pregnancy when ya wake up, I’ll fetch the books Stan was given by my older brother.” She stroked his head. “Sleep well.”

-----

“Annnnd…done,” Stan said as he wrapped a hair tie around a clump of dark brown curls. “You’re all ready to go, kiddo.” Daisy, who had sat patiently on the floor while Stan braided her hair, jumped up eagerly. She kissed him on the cheek.

“Thank you, Daddy!”

“You got it, sweetie,” Stan replied, poking her nose. Daisy giggled and ran off to play building blocks with Danny and Tate. Stan leaned back on the couch with a sigh. “Ford, those pain meds kickin’ in yet?” he asked idly. There was no response. “Stanford?” Stan looked over. Ford was sitting at the kitchen table, staring intently at a blue sippy cup in front of him. He reached out a hand to touch the cup, seemingly engrossed by the cartoon characters decorating the sides. Stan raised an eyebrow. “Uh, Ford, that’s Danny’s drink, y’know. If ya want juice, you need to get your own cup.”

“Mm,” Ford mumbled, not looking away from the cup, which was half-full of apple juice from breakfast. When Ford didn’t say anything, Stan prompted him.

“Do you want juice, Ford?” After a moment, Ford shook his head slowly. “All right. If ya do, lemme know.” The phone rang. Stan stood up, groaning quietly. He walked over and picked up the phone. “This is Stan speakin’.”

“Stanley, did Stanford ever get ahold of you?” Ma Pines asked abruptly. Stan blinked, startled.

“Uh, yeah, Mom. He’s actually gonna be stayin’ with me for a bit.”

“Okay, good. He called me to get your number, but never followed up. And you never called to tell me anything about him, either. I got worried!”

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Stan mumbled. He cleared his throat. “Actually, uh, I was about to call ya.”

“Don’t lie to your mother.”

“No, I really was!” Stan protested. Danny looked up from her blocks to stare at him. Stan winced, suddenly realizing how juvenile he had just sounded.

And in front of my kids and nephew…oops.

“What would make you suddenly wanna pick up a phone to call me?” Ma Pines demanded. Stan rubbed the back of his neck and turned away from his daughter’s judgmental gaze.

“My, um, my wife said I should,” Stan muttered.

“Your what?”

“My wife. Her- her name’s Angie.”

“You got married?! When did that happen?”

“1978,” Stan replied quietly. There was a pause. “Uh, Mom?”

“You got married four years ago and didn’t tell your mother?!”

“…Yes, ma’am.”

“You didn’t invite me!”

“I didn’t want Pops to see the invitation and come,” Stan said quickly. “So I told Angie that you, uh, you weren’t around.”

“‘Weren’t around’? Stanley Pines, did you kill me off?” Ma Pines asked, in a low tone that suggested she was barely keeping her anger under control.

“…Yeah,” Stan said reluctantly. “And, uh, also my- my last name isn’t Pines anymore. I took Angie’s last name,” he added quickly.

“Huh.” That last tidbit of information seemed to take Ma Pines by surprise, calming her anger for the moment. “Well, that’s certainly something.”

“The reason behind it is…complicated. But Angie had no clue you were around, or she woulda called you by now. She- she wanted me to say that. She even wrote it down so I wouldn’t forget.”

“Hmm.”

“I think you’d like her. Angie’s, uh, her family calls her a firecracker.”

“She’d have to be, to be able to handle you.”

“Yeah…” Stan looked down at his feet. “There’s one other thing I need to tell ya.”

“And what would that be?” Ma Pines said cautiously. Stan winced, well aware of how poorly his mother would take the news.

“You’ve got two granddaughters,” Stan said. He fought the urge to go hide in a bomb shelter somewhere.

“What?!” Ma Pines yelped.

“Twin girls. Danica Viola and Daisy Leigh. They’re about three years old now. Funny story, actually, Angie was still goin’ to college when she got pregnant, so her kids went to her graduation. Well, they’re her kids but they’re also mine. I helped make ‘em,” Stan said.

Stop, Stan. You’re rambling.

“Danica and Daisy.”

“Yes.”

“You waited until my granddaughters were three to tell me about them?!”

“I-”

“Your address hasn’t changed since we last spoke, has it?”

“No, I-” Stan felt someone tug at his shirt. He looked down. “What is it, princess?” he asked Danny. Danny pointed at the front door, which was wide open.

“Uncle Ford’s gone,” she said quietly. Stan’s heart stopped.

Ford’s gone. He’s a grown man that had brain surgery two weeks ago and is on a serious pain med high. Shit shit shit.

“Uh, Mom, I’m gonna have to call you back,” he said into the mouthpiece, his voice shaking slightly. “Gotta situation over here.”

“With twins, there’s always a situation,” Ma Pines said idly. She hung up the phone. Stan blindly slammed the phone in the general direction of the hook for a few times before he got it right.

“Good eye, Danny,” Stan said. He fought back his panic and scooped Danny up in his arms. “Daisy, Tate, come on, we gotta get shoes on! We’re gonna go on a Ford hunt!”

-----

Angie opened the door to the room they set aside for children separated from their parents at the zoo. Jim, one of the people who worked admissions, walked over to her quickly.

“I got a page sayin’ I needed to pick someone up?” Angie asked. Jim nodded.

“Yeah, uh, this guy’s your brother-in-law, right?” Jim said, pointing to a man sitting on a bench. Angie sighed.

“Yes. That’s him.”

“So do you wanna take him home or…?”

“I’ll call my husband in a minute. Thanks, Jim,” Angie said. Jim nodded. Angie walked over to Ford and took a seat next to him. “Stanford?” Ford looked at her, a wide grin stretched across his face.

“Hello, Dr. McGucket!” he said in a very loud voice. Angie stifled a groan.

“Did ya take yer meds today?” she asked. Ford nodded. “And after ya took yer meds-”

“I left!” Ford said cheerfully. He scoffed. “I don’t need to be nannied by my twin brother. Especially given that he’s the younger one.” Feeling something tugging her pants leg, Angie looked down. She blinked at the goat chewing on her slacks.

“Stanford, do ya know this goat?” she asked slowly.

“Yep! Rented him.”

“Why?”

“Well, Apple is clearly not a dog,” Ford started. “For one thing, he knows about my connections with Bill. This is excruciatingly obvious.”

“How do ya know, did Apple tell ya or somethin’?” Angie asked idly. Ford frowned.

“No. I didn’t ask. I should ask.”

“No, ya should go home.” Ford shook his head. “Stanford, ya can’t stay at the zoo all day. Why did ya come here in the first place?”

“So that the goat I rented could meet the other goats!” Ford chirped. Angie frowned.

“What?” she asked. Ford looked around carefully and then leaned closer to her.

“I’m here to free the other animals,” he said in an exaggerated whisper. Angie stared at him, perplexed.

“With…the goat?”

“The goat is my accomplice.”

“Uh-huh. I’m goin’ to call Stan. He’ll come pick ya up.” Angie stood up. Ford tugged at her shirt desperately.

“Don’t leave me alone with them!” he said. Angie looked at the people he was pointing toward. She sighed.

“They’re ‘bout six years old. I highly doubt they’ll mug ya and steal the goat, darlin’.”

“You don’t know!” Ford protested. Angie groaned.

“Just stay put while I call Stan! Then I’ll come and protect ya from the children.”

“And the goat.”

“Yes, I will protect you and the goat.”

-----

“How did your dog even reach the shelves?” Ford asked. Now officially a month post-operation, Ford’s pain medication had decreased to a more manageable dosage. He was relieved to have his mind clear again, even if that meant he had to pick up some responsibilities. For example, he was keeping an eye on the three children while Stan cleaned up the bathroom.

“It’s a weird dog,” Stan said with a sigh.

“Not only did it dig through the bathroom trash, but it somehow knocked over all the shampoo bottles.”

“Don’t need a play-by-play, Sixer.”

“I’m just impressed by your dog’s appetite for destruction.” The doorbell rang.

“Ford, get it, would ya?” Stan asked.

“On it.” Ford got up from the couch and opened the door. He was face-to-face with two men, both of whom had very large noses. The shorter one squinted at Ford with gray eyes.

“Yer not Stan,” the stranger said.

“Uh, no. May I ask who you are?” Ford asked. The man opened his mouth, but before he could speak, he was interrupted by a shout.

“Unclute!” Daisy shrieked happily, running past Ford to grab onto the man’s leg. The man chuckled.

“Hey there, munchkin,” he said, crouching down, picking her up, and standing again. He poked her belly. “Gosh, yer bigger ‘n bigger each time I see ya.” Daisy tugged on the man’s dark hair.

“We gotta new uncle!” she said exuberantly. She pointed at Ford. “He’s our Uncle Ford!” The man smiled at Ford.

“Howdy, the name’s Lute, the feller standin’ by me is my older brother, Harper.”

“So this is the mysterious ‘Ford’,” Harper said. He pushed his rectangular glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “Howdy.”

“Uh, hello.”

“Who is it?” Stan called.

“Two men named Lute and Harper!” Ford replied.

“They’re Angie’s older brothers, let ‘em in,” Stan said. Ford stood to the side. The brothers filed in. Harper made a beeline for Danny, who was building a very complex vehicle with her Legos.

“Howdy, kidlet,” Harper said gently. Danny beamed at him and, like her sister, embraced her uncle’s leg. Harper laughed. “Yer just as clingy as yer ma used to be.” Danny squeezed her uncle’s leg tighter. Ford could see the family resemblance between Angie and her brothers. Not only did all three have the same nose, but they had similar cheekbones, and Harper’s hair was the same color as Angie’s.

“So, Ford, I heard ‘bout who ya are,” Lute said. Ford turned. Lute had put Daisy down and was now staring at him, his arms crossed. “Yer relation to Tate, fer one thing.” At the sound of his name, Tate looked up from his picture book.

“Uncle Lute?”

“Oh, hey kidlet. Didn’t see ya there,” Lute said. Tate shrugged. “Don’t worry, you ain’t in trouble. Yer dad is, though.”

“Okay,” Tate said, turning his attention back to his book.

“In my defense-” Ford started.

“Don’t care,” Lute said abruptly. “Ya didn’t contact yer college roommate fer so long. That’s yer own dang fault. So is not tellin’ his fam’ly what happened to him.”

“Look, I-”

“Don’t bother arguin’ with Lute,” Stan said. He walked out of the bathroom and closed the door behind him. “Lute’s too dang stubborn to change his mind ‘bout anything.” Stan smiled at his brothers-in-law. “Hey, Lute, Harper. Good to see ya again.” Lute frowned at Stan.

“I ain’t happy with ya either, Stan.”

“Neither of us are,” Harper said. “Ya lied to our baby sister.” Stan rubbed the back of his neck uncertainly.

“Yeah, I know I did a pretty shi- cruddy thing,” Stan said. “But at least she knows now.”

“The only reason she knows is ‘cause yer twin brother showed up out of the blue,” Lute pointed out. “Ya weren’t even plannin’ on tellin’ her! Is the Pines fam’ly just full of- of dishonorable men?”

“…‘Dishonorable men’?” Stan asked. “Now I’m too amused to be scared of ya, McGucket.” Lute crossed his arms.

“What else am I s’posed to call the two of ya?” Lute asked.

“To be fair, our older brother Shermie is, by all accounts, a decent guy,” Ford put in. Lute raised an eyebrow.

“So he must’ve taken up all the decentness when he was born then, huh?” Lute said. Stan rolled his eyes.

“Look, I get that you guys are upset,” Stan said. “But we’re brothers now, right?”

“Right,” Harper said after a beat.

“Maybe cut me a bit of slack? And I guess Ford, too. He didn’t know about Tate.”

“He should’ve,” Lute said immediately.

“I’m not disagreein’ with ya,” Stan said.

“Thanks, Stan,” Ford muttered. There was a clatter from the kitchen.

“No, Gompers!” Danny said, detaching herself from Harper’s leg. She padded over to the goat, who was digging through the trash it had just knocked over. “Bad goat,” she said, patting him on the back. Lute and Harper stared.

“The goat’s new,” Lute said idly.

“Yeah,” Stan said, walking over to the latest mess to pick it up. He shoved the goat’s head away from him. “Ford rented it when he was on a pain med bender. Somethin’ about proving Apple’s a chupacabra. Of course, since Apple’s a dog, not a Mexican demon, nothin’ happened.” Stan glared at Ford. “Then Apple and the goat had to go and become friends, so the kids freaked out when Angie and I tried to return it.”

“Uncle Ford got upset, too,” Daisy said helpfully.

“Oh yeah. We had to buy the darn thing so that the literal children and my adult twin brother wouldn’t cry,” Stan finished. Ford flushed.

“Stanley, please.”

“Hey, Daisy’s the one who brought it up. You got a problem, talk to her,” Stan said, setting the trashcan upright again.

“Uh, pain med bender?” Lute said slowly.

“Uncle Ford’s brain was broked,” Danny supplied, now hugging Gompers. “Doctors fixed it, but he was a bit funny after.”

“Stanford, you had brain surgery?” Harper asked. Ford nodded.

“Yes. Nothing too concerning, although it was decreasing my quality of life immensely,” Ford said. Stan scoffed.

“‘Nothing too concerning,’ he says,” Stan muttered under his breath.

“If you’d told us, we would’ve been easier on ya,” Lute said.

“…Oh,” Ford said, unsure of how to respond.

“When Uncle Ford ran away, he got ice cream without us!” Daisy said.

“Well, that’s just rude,” Lute said to his young niece.

“Yeah, Ford escaped when I turned my back for two minutes,” Stan explained. “He bought an ice cream cone, rented a goat, and went to the zoo.”

“Why would ya bring a goat to the zoo? Zoo’s already got those,” Harper said, taking a seat on the couch. Lute joined him.

“The goat was my accomplice in freeing the animals from the petting zoo,” Ford said. He let out a small chuckle, remembering the blissful ignorance of his scrambled mind. “It all made perfect sense at the moment.”

“It always does,” Harper said sagely.

“So how long are you two gonna stay?” Stan asked as he finally finished picking up the scattered pieces of trash. “Ya have to stay for dinner. Angie’d be upset if she missed ya. But if you wanna stay overnight, you’ll have to camp in the living room. Ford’s got the guestroom.”

“Oh, no, we were just plannin’ on comin’ down fer a friendly scoldin’ and yellin’ session,” Lute said breezily. “Don’t want to impose.”

Apparently the McGuckets have a different definition of “friendly” than I do, if scolding and yelling qualifies. As though he could read Ford’s mind, Lute turned to Ford.

“Now, this is a friendly session, trust me. If it weren’t, you’d prob’ly be in tears.”

“After the things I’ve seen, not much can bring me to tears,” Ford remarked.

“Aside from separating a goat and a dog,” Harper said, raising an eyebrow.

“In my defense, they had befriended each other. What sort of monster would break apart such a lovely relationship?” Ford replied. Lute and Harper both chuckled. Stan caught Ford’s eye and winked. Ford knew what Stan would say later.

“See? Ya freaked out over Tate and the McGuckets. But ya didn’t need to. They’re good people, and even you can be a charmer when ya try to.”

-----

Ford handed Tate his backpack.

“I’ve packed some pictures I took in the field, as a treat,” Ford told his son. “Not- not the edible kind of treat. Please don’t eat the pictures.”

“It’s okay, Dad, I know,” Tate said calmly. He cocked his head. “What are they of?”

“Our, ahem, mutual friend,” Ford said with a wink. Tate’s eyes widened.

“Bigfoot?”

“The one and only. Well, actually, there is more than one bigfoot. There are whole societies of them, and Gravity Falls has one in the nearby mountain range.”

“Wow. Will you take me there? Please?” Tate begged. The doorbell rang. Ford smiled.

“If your mother gives me permission to take you next summer, or even sooner, absolutely,” he replied. Tate beamed. The doorbell rang again. “I should get that. It’s your mother, no doubt.” Ford walked over and opened the front door. Jenny McGucket smiled politely.

“Stanford. You look well.”

“I feel better than I did last time we spoke.”

“Clearly,” Jenny said. She peered past Ford. “Tater Tot! You ready to go?”

“I need to say goodbye to folks first,” Tate said, running out of the living room. He zipped into the girls’ bedroom, where Stan was helping Danny and Daisy get dressed.

“Did Tate have a good time?” Jenny asked Ford.

“I believe so. He’s quite the smart boy.”

“Yes, he is. I’m awful proud of him,” Jenny said. “The two of you got along all right?”

“Yes, we did. And actually,” Ford said, deciding to be upfront, “I’d like to talk custody with you sometime.”

“Custody?”

“When Fiddleford returns, I assume the two of you will maintain primary custody. But I’d like to have Tate during the summer, at least,” Ford said. “The lion’s share of my research is done then, and Tate has shown a vested interest in my work.” Jenny bit her lip. “What? I thought you’d be happy that I’m trying to be an involved father.”

“Oh, I am. It’s just that…I’m not sure if you’re ready for it quite yet.”

“What do you mean?”

“You watched him for about a month and a half. And you had help, from Stan and Angie, who both have more experience in childcare than you do. On your own, in a different state, for three whole months? I’m sorry, Stanford, I just don’t think you can handle it right now.”

“Tate is-”

“Very well-behaved, particularly for a child of his age. But he’s still a child.” Jenny smiled apologetically. “Maybe we can begin the custody conversation after Fidds comes back. It’s just- Stanford, were you ever left alone, in charge of the kids, during this entire time? Even for ten minutes?”

“…No,” Ford conceded.

“I’m sorry to hit you with this right now,” Jenny said quietly. “So soon after your surgery.”

“It’s been seven weeks; I’m not an invalid anymore,” Ford said, bristling.

“All right,” Jenny said after a moment, in a decidedly neutral tone. “Tater Tot, we have to get going!”

“Coming, Mom!” Tate called, running back to the front door. “Dad, I need to say goodbye to you, too.”

“Oh. Of course.” Ford crouched down for a hug. He squeezed his son tightly.

Don’t think about how long it might be before you see him again. Don’t do it.

“Goodbye, Tate,” Ford said quietly.

“Bye, Dad.” Tate broke off the hug and beamed at him. “Next summer, we’re gonna go find bigfoot, right?”

“We’ll see,” Ford said with a weak smile.

“Bye, Stan, thank Angie for me, will ya?” Jenny called.

“Yep!” Stan shouted back. Jenny and Tate left the house, Tate making a small wave at Ford as he walked away. Ford closed the door and leaned against it.

“Damn,” Ford whispered.

I can’t believe I’ve grown so attached to Tate, given the short amount of time that I’ve known him. Maybe Fiddleford will be able to convince Jenny about the custody arrangement. …No, that won’t happen. Not after what I did. Ford’s musings were cut short by his nieces rocketing down the hallway, shrieking at the tops of their lungs.

“Breakfast, breakfast, breakfast!” Danny and Daisy yelled, racing through the living room and into the kitchen like twin tornadoes. Despite himself, Ford cracked a half-smile at their innocent enthusiasm. Stan followed his daughters at a more languid pace.

“Okay, gremlins,” Stan said, picking up his daughters and putting them in their chairs. “Breakfast, it is. Today is Leftover Wednesday. On the menu, we have leftover hashbrowns, leftover pancakes, fruit, and toast. What’ll it be?”

“Corn stuff,” Daisy said promptly.

“Did I say corn stuff was on the menu?” Stan asked.

“…No.”

“It’s Leftover Wednesday,” Stan reminded her.

“Leftover corn stuff,” Danny suggested.

“There’s never any leftover corn stuff. You monsters eat it like a plague of locusts,” Stan said, exasperated.

“What’s that?” Daisy asked. Stan pinched the bridge of his nose.

“It’s when a bunch of grasshoppers eat all the crops and don’t leave anything behind,” Stan explained.

“I’m not a grasshopper!” Daisy protested.

“No, you’re pickier than one. If you two don’t make up your minds soon, I’ll choose for you,” Stan said.

“Fruit!” Danny yelled.

“Cakepans!” Daisy shouted. Stan winced slightly at his daughters’ loud voices, but carried on.

“Hot or cold?” Stan asked.

“Cold,” Daisy said.

“Got it. An order of fruit and an order of pancakes comin’ up,” Stan said. Ford, who had been watching the exchange idly, frowned.

Hmm. That’s certainly an idea.

“Uh, Stan?” Ford said, after Stan had given his daughters their breakfasts. Stan walked over.

“Yeah?”

“Could I- could I babysit the girls sometime? So that I have more experience in taking care of children.”

“This is a joke, right?” Stan said. “Sixer, leave the comedy to the pros.”

“It’s not a joke.”

“You really wanna babysit my demon spawn?” Stan asked. “You’ve been around, you know that the two of ‘em are hel- heck on wheels.”

“Yes. I’ve seen the chaos they seem to court, but I’ve also seen the methods you use to calm them down,” Ford said. “Anyways, isn’t it my responsibility as an uncle to help supervise?” Stan eyed him.

“I’ll talk to Angie about it,” Stan said after a moment. “Right now, go do your physical therapy.”

“Very well,” Ford said.

It’s not much, but given how protective Stan is of his children, it’s a start. Ford walked into the kitchen and took a seat next to Danny, who beamed at him. Stan placed a sheet of paper and a comically large pencil in front of Ford.

“What’s the task for today?” Ford asked, carefully picking up the pencil. He frowned at the tremors in his hand, which were not brought on from caffeine. Rather, decreased mobility and usage of his dominant hand was one of the surgery’s side effects, along with slurred speech. At his six week follow-up appointment, Ford had mentioned to Dr. Carmichael that, despite no longer using the pain medication, it seemed like he still was experiencing the medicine’s sedative abilities.

“You’ve had this since the operation?” Dr. Carmichael asked.

“Yes, from the pain medication,” Ford replied. Dr. Carmichael shook her head.

“No. These symptoms are from the surgery.” She took out a piece of paper and began to scribble on it. “I’ll recommend you to a physical therapist and speech therapist, who will likely give you exercises you can do at home.” Dr. Carmichael handed the paper to Ford. “These are temporary, but only if you go through the therapy.”

“Understood.”

“You’re doing a drawing today,” Stan replied.

“What am I drawing?”

“As many plants as possible,” Stan said.

“Daddy! Gotta go!” Daisy shrieked suddenly, rocking back and forth in her chair. Stan’s eyes widened.

“All right, kid, let’s do this,” Stan said, picking Daisy up. He ran to the bathroom.

A few minutes later, Stan returned, holding Daisy again. Ford looked up from his shakily-drawn lilies.

“How’d it go?” Ford asked. Stan beamed.

“Daisy’s gettin’ closer to losin’ those nasty diapers. Aren’t ya?” he cooed at his daughter. Daisy giggled, clearly proud of herself. “Can’t wait until I’m done with ‘em.”

“You’ll be dealing with them again, though,” Ford pointed out. Stan frowned.

“What?”

“Don’t you and Angie have plans for more children?”

“Well, yeah, but not for a while, Sixer, geez. Don’t scare me like that. I thought you found a positive test in the trash or somethin’.”

“Unlike your dog and goat, I don’t dig through the garbage,” Ford retorted, returning to his drawing.

“Yeah, and whose fault is it that I have a goat?” Stan said. The doorbell rang. “Saved by the bell, Poindexter.”

“Sure,” Ford mumbled. As Stan went to get the door, Ford focused on his exercise, carefully etching out a lopsided daisy.

“Pretty,” Danny said quietly. Ford smiled at his niece.

“Thank you, Danny.”

“My goodness, Stanley, why is your hair so long?” a familiar voice said. Ford’s heart leapt into his mouth. He turned. Standing at the front door was someone he knew very well. Stan seemed shell-shocked; he took a solid two minutes to croak out his startled response.

“M-Mom?”

#dad!stan #stanford pines #stanley pines #tate mcgucket #gravity falls oc #angie mcgucket #mrs. mcgucket #Danica Pines #Daisy McGucket #gravity falls #gravity falls au #stay at home stan au #stan at home #fanfiction #my writing #my stuff #speecher speaks #Stangie Family

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thelastspeecher · 7 years

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Stan Pines, Farmhand - Chapter 15: Forty-One Years Later

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 AO3

Holy cow guys it’s finally here! Chapter 15 of “Stan Pines, Farmhand”! It has been far too long since I’ve updated, and for that I am sorry. But we’re in the home stretch folks, we’re almost done! Anyways, in this chapter, Stan gets yelled at by multiple people, Mabel thinks her Great-Aunt Angie is a werewolf, and Emily thinks her Uncle Ford is a bit strange, even for her admittedly odd family. Enjoy.

July 30, 2012

Dipper and Mabel were finally in bed. Stan could hear them moving around upstairs, but at least they’d have a harder time eavesdropping from the attic. As he talked on the phone in the kitchen, Stan looked outside. Some sort of bear-thing was chasing gnomes in the backyard.

Just a normal Monday here in Gravity Falls, he thought tiredly.

“So I took the kids on a trip to some of the other tourist traps in Oregon,” Stan said.

“Mm-hmm,” Angie replied, on the other end of the phone. “This weren’t a ‘business trip’, were it?”

“I have no clue what ya mean.”

“Did ya use child labor to ruin yer competition’s places of business?”

“See, now when ya say it like that, it sounds dirty,” Stan said, slightly put out. Angie chuckled softly.

“Did anythin’ interestin’ happen on this trip?”

“I almost got eaten by a spider-lady.”

“A spider-lady?”

“Yeah.”

“What was her name?”

“Why are you interested in knowing her name?”

“My college roommate is a spider-person.”

“Marley?”

“Yep.”

“Her name was Darlene.” There was a shuffle over the phone as Angie apparently shifted her phone from one ear to the other.

“Ya shoulda told me ya were goin’ to see spider-people. Darlene is Marley’s cousin. She prob’ly wouldn’t have tried to eat ya if she knew who ya were.”

“Dammit. See, this is why ya need to come back. Ya get me outta all sortsa sticky situations.” Angie laughed again. “Seriously, though, when are ya gettin’ back?”

“I’ll be in Gravity Falls in a week or so. I’m in the Augusta airport right now, to head over to California and stay with Harper and Emmett fer a bit. Emmett’s got that dance recital,” Angie replied. She paused. “That’s the boardin’ call. Real quick, anythin’ else ya wanted to tell me?”

“Ford’s back,” Stan blurted out. There was a clatter and shuffling over the line.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Angie said. “I dropped the phone. Now, what did ya just say?”

“Ford’s back.”

“An’ how is that even possible? I thought ya said there wasn’t any way to bring him back.”

“I lied,” Stan said simply.

“Fer thirty years?”

“Yes.” Stan could practically feel Angie’s anger, even though she was on the other side of the country.

“Ya lied to me!”

“Angie, I-”

“Ya promised ya would never do that! Ya know how I feel ‘bout lyin’!”

“Angie-”

“Did ya forget what my fam’ly is all about? It’s ‘bout bein’ open and truthful! Ya just shit over everythin’ my fam’ly stands for. Everything your fam’ly stands for. Yer a McGucket, act like it fer once in-”

“Angie, listen!” She went silent. “Ya remember what happened last time ya got mixed up in Stanford’s weirdness, right? Ya ended up in the hospital fer two weeks. In a fuckin’ coma fer most of it. I did it to protect ya.”

“It don’t matter how noble it was, it’s still wrong. And yer not goin’ to get off easy.”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” She was silent for a minute. “Angie?”

“We’ll talk when I get back,” she replied shortly and hung up the phone without even saying goodbye. Stan slammed the phone on the hook.

“Shit, fuck,” he swore softly. He ran his hands through his hair. “Goddammit.”

“Was that Ma?” Stan turned around to face the speaker, Emily.

“Yeah. It was.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “She’s pissed at me.”

“Well, duh,” Emily said. “Ya lied to her for longer than I’ve been alive!”

“I know, smartass.”

“Dipper and Mabel aren’t too pleased, either. Mostly Dipper. That kid can hold a grudge.” Emily sighed. “Look, Dad, I’m gonna be honest. Ya messed up.”

“Don’t need to tell me that,” Stan muttered.

“You should’ve been tellin’ Ma ‘bout this nonsense from the start!”

“Look, I don’t need to be scolded by my own kid,” Stan snapped. Emily raised her eyebrows.

“Wow, that’s mature,” she said sarcastically. Stan glowered at her. “I know yer a bit upset, Dad. And ya don’t like bein’ on bad terms with Ma.” Emily moved forward. “She’ll get over it. But…give her some time.” Emily wrapped her arms around Stan in a tight hug. “We all need some time.” Stan rested his chin on top of her head and squeezed her back in response.

“Yeah.”

“I know things didn’t go the way you wanted. But seriously, it’s just- give Ma some time, give Uncle Ford some time, give Dipper and Mabel some time. We’ll be back to normal ‘fore ya know it.” Stan buried his face in his daughter’s caramel-colored hair.

“When did ya get so smart?” he whispered.

“I’ve always been smart. You know. You were there,” Emily replied. Stan smiled. “I’m gonna go to bed now. Night, Dad.”

“Night, pumpkin.” Emily broke off the hug and walked away. A door opened and closed. Stan looked over at Ford, sitting at the table in the living room. After a moment, he walked over and took a seat across from his twin.

“So, you and Angie had another child, then?” Ford asked, once a few minutes had passed. Stan leaned back in his chair. Ford tried to not stare, but it was difficult. He took a drink from his glass of whisky.

Sweet Moses, it’s strange to see Stan as an old man.

“Nah, Emily’s mine and Fidds’ kid,” Stan said idly. Ford coughed in shock, spewing whisky across the table. Stan grinned. “Gotcha.”

“Stanley!”

“You were right. Emily’s mine ‘n Angie’s. Third one,” Stan said over Ford’s continued sputters. “Third outta four, actually. And, uh, ya might be interested in the fourth one.” Ford watched curiously as Stan took out a wallet and began to shuffle through it. “Ah! Here,” Stan said, sliding a picture across the table. Ford picked it up. It was of a young man with brown hair, rectangular glasses, and the distinctive McGucket nose. There was a mischievous twinkle in his brown eyes that Ford recognized as identical to Stan’s.

“This is your fourth child?” Ford clarified. Stan nodded.

“Yep. Only son. Emmett. Emily’s twin.”

“You had twins twice? That’s bad luck,” Ford said. Stan shrugged.

“Not so much for me as fer Angie. I mean, she’s the person what had to give birth to ‘em. And Emily and Emmett were trouble-makers from the start. Premature, emergency C-section, complications, the whole thing. Doc said Angie probably shouldn’t have any more kids after they were born. But we were done anyways.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. It must have been rough,” Ford said softly. Stan shrugged again.

“Most of Angie’s siblings, and her Ma and Pa, came up while Angie was recoverin’ from the birth. Helped out around the house, watched the kids. Stayed until she was back to normal.”

“That was very kind of them.”

“It got old pretty fast, actually. We practically had to physically remove ‘em from the house.” Stan poured himself a glass of whisky and downed half of it in one swallow. “But that’s not why I brought up Emmett. I brought him up ‘cause, well, I think meetin’ him would be helpful fer both of ya. Mostly him, but hey, it’d be nice for ya, too. Meetin’ yer nephew.”

“Not that I’m disagreeing, but why do you say that?” Ford asked, handing the picture back to Stan. Stan drummed his fingers on the table and looked away.

“His full name’s Emmett Stanford McGucket.”

“…What?” Ford asked quietly. Stan sighed.

“It was Angie’s idea. I kept tryin’ to push Stanjamin, and then she said that Stanford was barely even a name, and she got that look in her eye, and when that happens, nothin’ ‘ll change her mind.”

“You named your son after me?” Ford asked. Stan nodded, still refusing to make eye contact.

“It’s not like we did it fer no reason, though. Emmett’s like ya. But instead of twelve fingers, he’s got twelve toes.”

“Oh. Two of your children are polydactyls?”

“Yeah. Apparently, it’s a weird enough thing that Daisy used it for her senior thesis. She’s a geneticist, y’know. Right now, she’s back at the farm, tryin’ to breed ‘super crops’ or somethin’ like that.” A proud smile formed on Stan’s face. “Smart cookie, that one. All of ‘em, really. Don’t know how a knucklehead like me got such bright kids.”

“What about Danny? What’s she up to?” Ford asked. Stan grinned even more broadly.

“She builds doomsday machines for the government. Top-secret Pentagon job. Since she’s so busy, her husband’s a stay-at-home dad.”

“You have a grandchild?” Ford asked, surprised. Stan let out a bark of laughter.

“I’ve got five, Sixer. And another one on the way.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Danny’s got the triplets and Benji, and then she told us just a couple months ago that she’s havin’ another one. And Emmett’s got Lucy. Man, Lucy’s the sweetest little thing. Her mom left, though, pretty soon after she was born.” Stan’s smile faded slightly. “Good thing that Harper and Lute are around to help Emmett with her.”

“I- I can’t believe you’re a grandfather,” Ford said. Stan eyed Ford and quirked an eyebrow.

“So are you.” Ford’s heart stopped.

“What?”

“Tate’s got a couple kids. Boy and a girl. They actually live here, in Gravity Falls.”

“Is Fiddleford here as well?” Ford asked. Stan looked away.

“That’s, uh, that’s somethin’ you should talk to Angie about.” Ford stared at Stan.

“What? Why?” he asked. Stan rubbed the back of his neck.

“I don’t wanna get into it. It’s late.”

“…I suppose it is.” Ford took another drink from his glass. He sighed heavily. “Stanley. This ‘Mystery Shack’ business has to end.”

“Figured.”

“I won’t kick you out tomorrow, or anything like that,” Ford continued, “but I do expect you to leave my house eventually. The end of the summer, ideally.”

“I’m not the only person who lives here.”

“You and Angie can find a place, I’m sure,” Ford said. Stan scoffed.

“That’s one hell of a thanks.”

“…What?”

“I spend thirty years bringin’ ya back, and ya don’t bother to say ‘Hey, thanks for doin’ that’? No, all I get is an eviction notice,” Stan said bitterly.

“Thank you? Why would I thank you?” Ford demanded. “You pushed me into that portal, and through your foolhardy, bullheaded stubbornness, you have put the universe in danger by opening it up again!” Stan stared at him for a few seconds.

“…Whatever,” Stan said. He stood up. “Look, Stanford, I- I don’t want ya draggin’ these kids into your bullshit.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The same bullshit that ended with ya puttin’ my wife in a coma. Keep the kids outta it, okay?”

“I would never-”

“I don’t care. I can live without a thank you fer haulin’ yer wrinkly old ass back home. But I can’t live with you hurtin’ my fam’ly.”

“They’re my family as well.”

“Never stopped ya before,” Stan shot back. He left the room huffily. Ford watched him leave, fighting the temptation to call out after him. His gaze dropped down to the table, where he could see his reflection in the dregs of his drink.

“Welcome back, Stanford Pines,” he muttered idly.

-----

July 31, 2012

Stan walked into the kitchen. Dipper, Mabel, and Emily looked up from their breakfast.

“About time ya got up, old man,” Emily said. “I had to get these gremlins breakfast without ya.” Stan didn’t respond, instead squinting at something in his hand. “Uh, what are you doin’?”

“Yer ma sent me a picture,” Stan said. “But I can’t unlock it.” Emily sighed.

“Dad, ya don’t ‘unlock’ picture messages.”

“I can’t see it, though.”

“Lemme see.” Emily snatched the thing out of Stan’s hand. “Can’t use a dang phone, but ya can build a death machine in the basement,” she muttered. Mabel and Dipper frowned.

“That’s a phone?” Mabel asked. Emily nodded.

“There’s no way that’s a phone,” Dipper said.

“Ma made him get one a while back,” Emily said, clicking buttons. “He doesn’t do anything with it. Just keeps it around so my ma and siblings can get a hold of him.” She rolled her eyes. “He even uses a default ringtone.”

“That should be a crime,” Mabel said.

“Agreed,” Emily said. She handed the phone back to Stan. “Here ya go. Looks like she met up with Emmett and Uncle Harper.”

“You have siblings?” Dipper asked. Emily nodded and took another bite of her cereal.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve got three. Two older, one younger.” She squinted at Dipper. “How did ya not know that?”

“It’s not like he tells us anything,” Mabel said. “Except for like, ‘Touch that and you owe me thirty bucks!’”

“I forget all the time that he’s married,” Dipper added. Emily grabbed Stan’s phone from him again.

“Hey!” Stan barked. Emily clicked a few buttons, then turned the phone’s screen to face her cousins.

“That’s my ma, my twin brother Emmett, and my Uncle Harper,” Emily said, pointing out her family members. Mabel gasped.

“Your mom’s so pretty!”

“Yeah, she’s pretty much outta Dad’s league,” Emily said nonchalantly. Stan squinted at his daughter.

“Watch it, kid.” Emily stuck her tongue out in response. Stan playfully whapped her over the head with his newspaper, eliciting a chortle from her. She handed back the phone.

“But see, Dad, I told ya Ma would start feelin’ a bit better. She just needed some time to deal with the lyin’.” Stan shook his head. “What?”

“She sent me one of those word messages, too.”

“Text,” Mabel supplied helpfully. Stan frowned at her.

“Stop makin’ noise just to make noise. Too early fer that.”

“What did Ma say?” Emily asked.

“Somethin’ ‘bout how they’re goin’ to get toffee peanuts from place I like in San Diego.”

“That’s good!”

“And eat all of ‘em.” Stan huffed. “And Harper’s still gonna record Emmett’s performance, but keep the tape. I don’t get to watch it.”

“Oh. Yeesh.” Emily looked over at Mabel and Dipper. “Ma can be a bit savage sometimes.”

“That’s probably because she’s secretly a werewolf,” Mable said confidently. Emily blinked.

“What?”

“Yeah, Mabel thinks Grunkle Stan’s wife has to be a werewolf or something,” Dipper said.

“Okay, but seriously, what kind of person would Grunkle Stan marry?” Mabel asked. “I think a wolf-lady is a perfect match for someone like him. Or like, a mountain woman.”

“So, basically, someone half-wild,” Emily said, amused. Stan grunted. “I could see that.”

“Cool it, squirt,” Stan said warningly. Emily propped her elbows on the table.

“What about you, Dipper? What’re yer thoughts?”

“Some sorta cat burglar or thief or scammer or something,” Dipper said. Emily laughed.

“Did ya bother to ask Soos or Wendy what she’s like?” Stan grumbled. Dipper and Mabel shook their heads.

“That takes all the fun out of it, Grunkle Stan! And anyways, it’s so obvious that she’s a werewolf.”

“If she is, she hasn’t told me,” Stan said, shuffling out of the kitchen.

“I’ll give you two a hint,” Emily said. “If my ma was ‘round, there’s no way that Dad woulda been able to keep up his ‘Gravity Falls is normal’ façade. Like, if ya mentioned seein’ Bigfoot’s footprint, she’d say somethin’ like ‘Well, of course he’s real, I had lunch with him last Wednesday.’”

“Well, yeah,” Mabel said. “Bigfoot is so the type to have lunch with werewolves.” Emily beamed at her cousins.

“I like you kids.”

“Aw, shucks,” Mabel said, waving a hand airily.

“Good morning, children.” Emily, Dipper, and Mabel all looked over. Ford stood in the entryway of the kitchen.

“Howdy, Uncle Ford!” Emily chirped. “You just missed the big discussion about how I’m apparently half wolf.”

“No, you’d be a quarter wolf, if your mom was a werewolf,” Dipper corrected. “Werewolves are half wolf. Y’know, ‘wolf-man’. Half wolf, half man.”

“Ah, okay,” Emily said with a nod. “I’m apparently only 25% wolf.”

“Hmm. Very well, then,” Ford muttered, walking over to the fridge. He opened it and peered inside.

“Dad needs to go shoppin’, so there’s not much here,” Emily said.

“Thank you for informing me,” Ford said. He walked back out of the kitchen. Emily frowned.

“What’s his deal?”

“He’s the author, he’s allowed to be eccentric,” Dipper said.

“I mean, most people in my fam’ly are a bit odd,” Emily said slowly. “But…” She shook her head. “Never mind. You two wanna go get Soos and play some squirt gun wars?”

“Yes!” Mabel cheered, jumping out of her chair. Dipper continued to look in the direction Ford had left.

“…Dipper?” Emily asked. Dipper looked back at her.

“Huh?”

“Squirt gun wars with Soos sound like fun?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said.

“Go get dressed, then, kidlets,” Emily said. Dipper and Mabel left the kitchen. Emily frowned thoughtfully. “Seems like Uncle Ford has a fan.” She began to clear the dishes from the table. “From what I’ve heard ‘bout him, that won’t end well.”

-----

August 14, 2012

The front door of the Mystery Shack slammed open.

“Here we go,” Wendy said quietly. A short, middle-aged woman stormed into the Gift Shop and came to a stop in front of Stan. Stan eyed her cautiously. She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him.

“Aww,” Mabel cooed. Angie stroked Stan’s face.

“I missed ya,” she whispered. Stan smiled at her.

“Missed you too.” After a few moments of gazing lovingly at her husband, Angie promptly switched to glaring at him.

“You lied to me?!” she shouted.

“There it is,” Stan muttered. Angie crossed her arms.

“You lied, Stanley Pines. Fer thirty years. I ain’t pleased.”

“Look-”

“Ya didn’t just lie to me, even. Ya lied to everyone in yer entire fam’ly! Ya said Stanford was dead.”

“Yeah, it’s good news, the whole ‘him not actually being dead’ thing. Why aren’t ya happy?”

“Happy?!” Angie stood on her tiptoes again, to peer into his face easier. “I’m too upset with ya to be happy. I thought Ford was dead. We mourned. We accepted it. We moved on.”

“That’s what you want to hear,” Ford mumbled. Angie held up a hand, still glaring intensely at her husband.

“I’ll get to you in a minute, Stanford,” she snapped. “Stanley, I don’t want to sleep in the same bed as someone who lied fer longer than my two youngest children have been alive. Yer goin’ to spend a few nights on the couch, understand?” Stan glared at her. She met his gaze with hardened eyes. After a few tense moments, he finally sighed.

“Fine.”

“She is a werewolf!” Mabel gasped. Angie blinked.

“What?” She turned around. “Oh, howdy, lil ones.”

“I was right, you are a werewolf!” Mabel said. Angie frowned.

“What makes ya say that, sugar-cube?”

“Well, it just makes sense.”

“Is it ‘cause I told off my husband?”

“Basically,” Mabel said. Angie chuckled and crouched down to Mabel’s eye height.

“Aren’t you the charmer. No, I’m not a werewolf. The mailman, on the other hand…”

“I knew it!” Soos shouted from a room over.

“What’s yer name, cutie?” Angie asked.

“Mabel! And he’s my twin, Dipper!” Mabel said eagerly, grabbing Dipper, who made a small squeak. Angie beamed.

“Well then, looks like I’m yer Great-Aunt Angie!”

“You’re shorter than I thought you’d be,” Dipper said. Angie chuckled again.

“I get that a lot. But I’m sorry ya had to see all that. I shouldn’t yell in front of kidlets. Ain’t right.”

“I don’t mind, Dr. Angie,” Wendy put in. “I kinda like it when you tear Mr. Pines a new one.” Mabel gasped suddenly, as an idea occurred to her.

“Can we call you Grangie?” she asked. Angie blinked.

“No,” she said flatly, “only my grandkids are allowed to call me that.” She winked at Mabel. “Ya can still call me yer Grauntie Angie, though. But most kids ‘round here just call me Dr. Angie, like Wendy does.”

“I’ll take it!” Mabel said. Angie grinned and stood up to her full height. She took a breath. “Stanford.” It was a statement, not a summons. Ford looked up. Angie stepped forward, her hands shaking, and twisting her wedding ring. “Ya- ya have to understand,” she said quietly and calmly, in a steady voice that belied her body language. “It’s like seein’ a ghost.” Angie’s hair had slightly faded, and had a couple silver streaks through it, but the only other sign that she had aged were the extensive laughter lines on her face.

She lived a good life, then. The woman standing before him, waiting for him to speak, seemed different than the one he remembered. And learned to be patient, apparently.

“Age mellowed you,” he said finally. Angie’s eyes widened. She laughed.

“Ya think I’m mellow? Did ya not just hear me yell at my husband?” Ford smiled half-heartedly.

“Point taken. By the way, I’m eager to meet the rest of your children. I’ve only become well acquainted with Emily,” Ford said. He looked down at his feet. “I also, uh…could you give me Fiddleford’s address?” He looked up again in time to watch Angie’s face break. “What?”

“Stan didn’t tell ya?”

“Tell me what?”

“About Fiddleford.” A heavy feeling, like he’d swallowed a brick of lead, settled in Ford’s stomach.

“What about Fiddleford?” Angie looked around.

“He- he don’t know ya no more,” she said quietly. Ford’s heart stopped.

“What? That’s- that’s-”

“Not true anymore,” Dipper put in. Angie and Ford looked over at their nephew. Dipper cleared his throat, slightly startled by unexpectedly being in the spotlight. “He’s- we figured out that he built the laptop in the bunker, and then we figured out that he founded the Blind Eye Society, and we found all his missing memories and-”

“Did ya tell Stan all this?” Angie interrupted. Dipper shook his head.

“No. He pretended like he didn’t even know Gravity Falls was supernaturally weird until after we almost got eaten by zombies.”

“Eaten by-” Angie looked over at Stan, who was grumpily buffing one of the snow globes. “Stanley, what on Earth happened?”

“Nothin’. They’re fine, aren’t they?” Stan said.

“Emily took pictures,” Mabel said. “I know because I asked her to send them to me.”

“Pictures of what?” Angie asked.

“Us fighting off zombies with the power of song!” Mabel enthused. Angie rubbed her forehead.

“Son of a-” She took a breath. “Stanley, what all have these children done this summer?”

“Heck if I know. They’re always gallivantin’ around, solvin’ mysteries or whatever,” Stan muttered.

“Ya don’t know what- yer supposed to be watchin’ ‘em!”

“Hey, do they have any bites or missin’ limbs? I did a fine job watchin’ ‘em!” Stan protested. Angie crossed her arms.

“I was hopin’ to hold off on the full argument fer a bit. But I don’t think I can. Bedroom. Now.” Angie looked over at Ford. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten ‘bout scoldin’ you, Stanford. Yer next.” With that, she followed Stan out of the Gift Shop. Wendy chuckled.

“Good luck with that, Stan Two.”

#stanley mcgucket au #stan pines farmhand #gravity falls #stanley pines #stanford pines #Emily Pines #mabel pines #dipper pines #angie mcgucket #wendy corduroy #my writing #my stuff #speecher speaks #Stangie Family

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