'STAN PINES DEAD'

That was the headline in today's Oregon newspaper. It was the talk of the town for a few hours, and now some people have come to express their sympathy and condolences. The body wasn't found, said the police. "Must've been burned down with the fire", so there wasn't a funeral to attend to.

"You really did it," Y/n says to Stan, who is busy staring at a particular section of the newspaper. "You managed to sell it to everyone. You're an absolute natural."

"Hey, you gotta learn how to give yourself some credit, kid," he replies, chuckling as he flips to the next page. "Heh, take a look at this!"

He basically shoves the newspaper to her face. She has to lean back to read the section properly. It was a picture of a man in a square frame. Y/n glances back to Stan's smirk before reverting to the photograph. It is unmistakably him, with the words, 'GRIFTER AT LARGE' beneath it. Her brows furrow slightly after quickly reading the paragraph.

"Shouldn't we be worried?"

"Nah," he says, waving a hand dismissively. "I'm Stanford, remember? And Stanley is dead, so we ain't gotta worry about nothing!"

Double negative but sure.

Y/n leaves it at that, looking a little uneasy. Stan certainly notices it, pointing it out. "Hey, you look like we just murdered someone in cold blood- hey! That's a good name."

"What?"

"'The Murder Hut!'" Stan bellows with a sound as if he is waiting for her approval. "Come on, you like it."

"Wouldn't that be suspicious as heck?" she utters, crossing her arms and leaning back to her chair. "And you think people would buy merchandise with names like- I don't know – murder hat? Murder box?"

"Let's just try it out! Come on, I got wooden planks that need some signs." Stan stands up, walks outside and begins hammering signs.

Y/n shakes her head at him, but she has a smile on her face. He brightens the room and is eager to turn the lab around. Although she initially opposed touching her and Ford's research, she knows that without proper income, they will starve and die, and this is Stan's way of earning money, so she has no choice but to support him.

***

PLAY THEME SONG

https://youtu.be/X2DUpDxFJyg

***

"Step right up, ladies and gentlemen! Step right up!" Stan takes his place in front of the audience. Some are locals, while others are visitors because Y/n has never seen these people before. The word must have spread to other neighboring cities.

Stan is a natural, just like she said. His skills at deception and trickery are finally paying off, literally. Each person's fifteen dollars all end up in his hands. Some may tip more based on how entertained they were, and boy, were they entertained.

All of the creatures Stan glued together reminded Y/n of the carnival to which the three went. She reaches for her daisy necklace, which was still dangling around her neck, and her thoughts return to Ford. She can't help but chuckle when she remembers her and Ford being unimpressed by the chicken duct-taped to a silver back gorilla.

She observes how people are drawn to the various displays of Ford's research and Stan's paraphernalia. Of course, he didn't want to tell the truth, so he had to make up a story about a completely fictitious creature. Nonetheless, customers bought it.

"Remember folks; we bring the 'fun' in 'No Refunds'!" Stan waves them all goodbye, making Y/n snort from the inside of the house.

The man turns to face Y/n, and she assumes he is waiting for her reaction or approval. The reactions were priceless, and he seemed to be selling it so well that she was almost persuaded at times. She smiles and gives him a thumbs up. Stan also smiles.

"So, any notes? Something to improve on?"

These suggestions have been gnawing at the back of her mind now. "Change the name-"

"Oh, come on. The Murder Hut is a good name! It'll really spook these people out, ya know?"

"Sure. I'll give you another name," Y/n starts, bringing her hands up as if she was ready to present something like a magician that was about to do a trick. "How about... 'The Mystery Shack'? eh?" she says, sliding her hands away from her face, watching Stan's expressions.

"The Mystery Shack, huh?" Stan repeats, rubbing his chin in deep thought. "The Mystery Shack... I don't know, I think– maybe– sounds a little bit- it's perfect!"

Wow, and here he is, adamant about not changing the name at first.

"Yeah!" Y/n grins. "And then they'll get to call you Mr. Mystery or something. Isn't that better than Mr. Murder?"

"Yeah, yeah... Mr. Mystery. It has a nice ring to it. I love it!" Stan smiles so wide, leaning towards Y/n to give her hair a little ruffling, making her scowl playfully at him.

"Hey, Mr. Mystery, just because you give tours and scam people for a living now doesn't mean you forget your sole purpose for staying here. You don't get a pass for fixing the portal, ya know!"

Stan sighs. "I know. We have to bring the real Stanford back."

Every night since Ford was sucked into the other dimension, Y/n and Stan have broken their backs and brains trying to restore the portal to its original state. She remembers some of the codes she entered, but the others were scribbled down by Ford and were unfortunately found in the rest of the journals, but they are nowhere to be located.

Y/n suggested she ask the forest creatures if they had seen Ford hide one in plain sight, but Stan expressed his fear of someone hurting her once she left the lab. She reassured him that there was nothing to be concerned about and that she would not be hurt due to her invulnerability.

Stan was still unsure, but Y/n was on her way to the enchanted forest while it was still light outside. Stan was giving tours as usual, and she managed to slip out without being noticed by the crowds.

She begins looking for someone with whom she can speak. She remembers the gnomes as being anything but friendly. Shmebulock was the only one who stood out from the crowd. Nonetheless, none of them could assist because all they wanted was for her to be their queen.

Where could Ford have hidden them? As something as important as his research, he must've hidden them 'where no one could find it' as he would always say.

It wasn't in the bunker the last time she checked, which was never (because she's kind of afraid of Shifty), but she doubted the journals would be there (because of Shifty and because it would be too obvious).

Y/n sighed dejectedly as she returned to the lab. Perhaps Ford traveled to another state or town and buried the journal there, or it was hidden by a puzzle. There are numerous options.

She didn't want to get a shovel and dig through every patch of land here in the forest. First is that it is time-consuming and labor-intensive, and the second is that it appears suspicious. Someone may believe they are digging up skeletons for their tourist trap or burying a dead body. In either case, things may occur that would be beyond their control.

"No luck?" Stan exclaimed once Y/n had reached the portal room. It took her all day to search the woods for possible hiding places, but nothing turned up.

And the creatures that lived there provided no important information. "Nothing... he made it more difficult than I expected."

Despite the lack of information from the other two journals, the portal repair was still ongoing. They'll just have to rely on their stock knowledge.

Stan would occasionally read textbooks borrowed from the local library, which were scattered on the table down the portal room. There were subjects like physics, computer science and information technology, and mechanical engineering—in fact, perhaps all kinds of engineering were thrown in the mix.

Y/n had little difficulty understanding; she was, after all, a quick learner. Stan, on the other hand, was dim-witted, but that didn't stop him from trying to understand basic physics. As always, she admired his tenacity.

It had been months of nonstop work. Since then, the Mystery Shack has grown. Stan suggested separating the house from the museum to give them some privacy, and they got to work. The Museum was larger and had more exhibits. Y/n had no idea the room was so large until they cleaned it.

As Stan continued making more nick-knacks, Y/n was working on the vending machine, making it act as a door between the gift shop and the hallway that led to the elevator.

"What do you think of this? I call it, 'The Antelabbit'."

From Y/n's observations, it was a brown rabbit with spiral horns from an antelope. It posed cutely, but menacingly at the same time. "How did you even get to build that?"

"Saw a bunch of taxidermy animals when I went out for groceries and decided to buy all of them," Stan replied, doing more finishing touches.

"It looks familiar," Y/n said, now that she had gotten a second look at it. "Isn't that one called a Jackalope? It's a mythical animal I saw from one of the books that Ford borrowed from the library."

"Jackalope-Shmackalope. The Antelabbit is a much more clever name. The faces of those tourists would be priceless once they see this!"

Y/n shook her head, choosing to focus more on the vending machine. There is just no way of getting through that guy. "I think I'm done," she announced as soon as she was finished. She stood up finally, having no pain from squatting down for hours.

"Does it work?"

She closed the vending machine with a small huff. There was a sound of the whole thing locking. "Try the code," she handed a paper to Stan and he began punching in the combinations on the vending machine's keypad.

With the final number inputted, the vending machine unlocked and cracked a bit of open space for Stan's fingers to grip it open. "Ha," he let out an impressive noise. "Not bad, kid. Good job."

"Of course, I was taught by the most amazing teacher."

Stan almost smiled.

"These textbooks, baby."

The smile dropped.

"Okay, get to work," he playfully punched Y/n's shoulder. He didn't even get to worry whether he punched too hard because it wouldn't matter to Y/n, yet Stan will never get used to that. "I want you to continue these while I'm gone. Gonna have to buy a cash register and more wood, and materials."

A month has passed, and it was the same routine as always; Stan rounds up the crowd and tours them around the museum, letting them take pictures – but always with a price.

After the fun tour, he leads them to the gift shop, which Y/n manages. She helps them sell the items, coming up with interesting facts about them and what benefits they'll get upon purchasing. Obviously, they all eat it up.

As Y/n closed the register, she let out a heavy sigh. She had been thinking about it for a week now, but in a few days, it will be her birthday. She should be looking forward to it, but the haunting memory that happened the next day all just came crashing down. The shaking of the ground, rushing to the elevator, having arrived too late. What if she had been there right on time? Could she have saved him and risked her life instead?

She's happy that she had Stan to celebrate it with her instead of being alone on that day. And even though she also wanted to celebrate Stan's one year of staying here, it just left a bad taste in her mouth because it's the same day she lost her research partner, her closest friend.

"Happy birthday, kiddo," Stan said, pushing forward a small plate of a cupcake on it. "Make a wish."

Y/n smiled, albeit feeling like total dump truck. "Thank you."

The moment she blew on the candle, the realization dawned on her that she was fourteen. She didn't feel like fourteen. Every year, her height grew an inch, but this year felt different all of a sudden.

Then came the next birthday, and the next, and the next. Stan's mullet had grown long enough for him to let her cut it all off, but Y/n had not changed.

"Maybe it's some sort of weird puberty thing. You may be human, but maybe your invulnerability is affecting something inside-? Nope, I am now greatly uncomfortable."

"It's been five years. It's as if I'm stuck at thirteen or something. It is indeed strange."

"Hey, look on the bright side, sweetie. One of us is staying young forever, and it's surely not me," Stan said, checking himself out in the mirror and turning his head to gaze at his new haircut. "Not bad, kid! You even kept the sideburns. I look sharp!" He grinned at his reflection before walking away, but not before giving Y/n a little noogie. "Might consider opening up a barber shop!"

"You will never bribe me with flattery, Stanley."

"Heh, worth a try."

Before Stan left the room, he stood by the opening, his hand stilled on the door frame. "Y/n?"

"Yeah?" Y/n stared at him.

He averted his gaze before speaking, "Nothing. I'm just..."

"You're just what? You can tell me, you know."

Stan let out a small chuckle. "Yeah. I know. I just wanted to say that... I'm sorry. It's been five years since the second most stupidest thing I've done in my life."

Double superlative, but okay, Y/n thought, but she let him continue.

"He wouldn't be gone if it weren't for me. But, I also want to thank you for not giving up on me. I basically replaced him but you never left, ya know? You-"

"Okay, you're making me cry, man. Stop it," Y/n playfully chided, but there were tears threatening to escape from the corner of her eyes. "We should be celebrating our progress! I mean, considering that we lack the extra information from the other two journals, we still do it! The portal... kinda works."

Stan remained frowning. "Really appreciate your enthusiasm, kid, but we just spent the last five years with nothing accomplished. Admit it!"

"And here's to many more years. I don't care how long it takes. The important thing is that we're still trying and we won't ever give up on him. We both want him back, right?"

"I'm sorry. You're right." He sighed.

"When am I not?"

"Okay, smarty pants, I'm getting sick of your overconfidence," Stan remarked, but he wasn't being serious.

Y/n cackled. "Ha! Where'd you think I got that? And you don't get a choice, you're stuck with me forever!"

He smirked. "Good."

The two remained inseparable, knowing that they would only have each other for the rest of their lives. They decided that because Y/n does not age, she should be kept hidden from the public during the day. It was too complicated to explain, but Y/n had prepared a lie that she could tell whenever she needed to.

Stan and Y/n knew it would take a long time, but no one expected that almost twenty years later, nothing groundbreaking would have happened. The Shack kept on developing, though, now fully renovated with the huge sigh and other decorations.

They continue to follow their daily routine, in which Stan tours the visitors around the museum before leading them to the gift shop where he also manages the cash register. Meanwhile, Y/n works with the portal, taking note of what materials they would need. Stan might call Y/n to fix something, but as much as possible, he didn't want to fill up her plate with so many tasks.

Sleepless nights of hard work were also part of their routine. Someone should seriously do a bag check on their eyes from how saggy they look, but somehow Stan still manages to look charismatic in the day.

But every now and then, Stan would have one of those nights where he felt completely disheartened. He'd just stop what he was doing and go on a rant about how he's not smart enough and lacks critical thinking, doubting his abilities, and calling himself names.

But Y/n is always ready to put him back in his place, to tell him that he's wrong, and that he is smart in his own way.

There would also be days when Y/n would not want to get out of bed, feeling lethargic and uninterested. She'd spend the entire day lost in her own thoughts, which would always drift back to him and her memories with him.

Stan would check in on her from time to time, but would give her space if she needed it. He would, however, bring her meals in bed, which she greatly appreciates.

The two have grown to truly care for one another, internally promising to watch each other's backs.

After about twenty years, there was a ring that one morning. Stan reluctantly picked it up and sat in the dining chair. "Stan Pines speaking."

"Ford?"

Stan knew that voice. "Shermie?"

"You go by Stan now?"

His shoulders slumped. He just wanted to drop the call, though it might be suspicious. He already had the first strike, mistakenly introducing himself as Stan Pines when clearly, a person named Ford resides here. "What do you want, Sherm?"

"Well," Shermie began, "you know how I've been expecting my first grandchild..."

Stan stood up from his chair. "Wait," he said, "Is it happening now? Already?!"

"Heh, yep!"

"Well?"

"Well... what?" The older brother questioned.

"Is it a boy or a girl?"

Shermie let out a small chuckle. "You'll just have to go over here and find out, won't you?"

"You can just tell me, Sherm, come on!" he basically begged but nonetheless, Shermie didn't throw him a bone.

"Nope. No can do, Ford. It's been too long since we've seen each other. It's been like what, twenty– twenty five years already? You'll find out once you get here," he said before dropping the call.

Stan grumbled under his breath before dragging himself to Y/n's room. "Y/n, wake up," he said, approaching the huge bed on the side, "Wake up, peanut, I need your help."

Y/n fussed. "No. I want to sleep forever."

"Wake up!" Stan shamelessly punched the side of her shoulder, not feeling guilty at all because he knew it wouldn't even perturb her.

"What happened, what do you want?" Y/n groaned.

"I need you to find me Ford's clothes to wear."

"What?" She finally sat up.

"I have to meet my brother. As Ford."

"You have a second brother? How many other brothers are there?!" Her arms flailed wildly, her eyes narrowed at him. Stan was slightly amused at Y/n's irritated state, but his problem of trying to pose as his disappeared twin brother is surfacing on his mind.

Stan laughed shortly. "Don't worry, we're only three. His name's Shermie."

Y/n stood up and walked over to the large box in the far corner of the room. The box contained some of Ford's belongings, such as his clothes, and the majority of his belongings were on the basement's second level. "I'm guessing you need to dress as Ford so you need his clothes."

"Yeah. Not too nerdy, though, even if it's an impossible challenge."

As she rummaged through the box, Y/n scoffed, shaking her head. It's been 20 years, but the scent is still there. It felt like a slap in the face, but Y/n powered through it, eventually pulling out a blue-gray long-sleeved shirt and a mustard vest. "Dusty."

Stan made a dismissive sound. "I don't care."

"Woah!" Y/n exclaimed as she noticed Stan taking off his coat. "Not here?!"

Stan returned to her room a few moments later, dressed completely differently than before, just as Y/n discovered Ford's other trench coat. "Here. This'll complete the look."

She watched Stan put it on with a solemn expression. "Meh, here," he said, twirling a bit to present his final appearance. "How'd I look?"

Y/n hummed in thought. She considered his appearance before pointing out a specific feature she wished to change. "Come here."

Stan leaned down to her face, speechless, before reaching up and running her fingers through his hair. She noticed that their hairstyles were different; Ford had thick, wavy curls, while Stan had straight, thin strands. She ruffled them around and couldn't help but chuckle. It was like getting even with him, who had frequently messed up her hair.

She eventually came to a halt and took a step back. Her lips formed a straight line. "You make the cut," she said, her voice slightly trembling. Stan approached the large mirror next to her and looked in it. He was stunned at first, his eyes scanning every detail of himself. "Now say something Ford would say."

Stan stood blankly, remaining still before clearing his throat. "Conspiracies," he uttered, "Mysteries! Bigfoot is real!"

The two erupted into small laughter.

"Heh, still got it." he smirked to himself.

"Okay, you big nerd, but what about your six fingers?"

The man in front of her contemplated for a moment, before coming up with an idea, "Hand me some bandages."

***

Through the window, Y/n observed Stan leave for his car. She tightened her grip on the window sill. The back of his figure looked like Ford's, and with a shaky grin, Y/n reasoned that if he truly strongly resembled him, it would surely fool his other brother.

She couldn't believe they had another brother as she slid down on the couch. She only found out because Ford never told her anything about him, only about Stan. Y/n stared at the ceiling, trying to think of something to do now that she was alone in the lab-turned-Shack. Should she go into the gift shop and create new "attractions"? Should she clean up the museum a little more? Should she double-check something with the portal?

She returned to her bedroom with a careless shrug. Stan interrupted her dream of becoming a famous monster hunter on TV, so she went back to sleep to continue it.

Her hunger woke her up, and she settled on making herself a sandwich. She went downstairs and snatched a few books and brought them upstairs to read some. She spent the rest of the afternoon reading and writing notes of her own.

Before she knew it, the front door opened. "I'm home!" She heard, but she wrote a few more sentences before looking up from the book and she just noticed that it had gotten dark. She made her way out of her room and saw Stan in the hallway who was just about to go to his room.

"So? How'd it go?" she inquired, crossing her arms.

"Twins," Stan began, and she swore she saw tears forming at the corner of his eyes. "They had twins - and – and matching names! What a tradition! It was Ma-"

Y/n couldn't help but smile at him. His happiness was highly contagious. She remained speechless, listening to him telling the story animatedly. And when he told her that he told Shermie to keep the whole "dead Stanley" topic a secret to the kids, she felt relief.

"I don't wanna do this whole thing again. It's... it's suffocating," Stan finished.

Y/n smiled reassuringly. "Let's just hope that we don't bump into a situation where you have to do it again."

***

Stan had spent countless hours renovating the tourist trap, determined to keep the oddities and appeal alive for profit and his love of money. As a result, when Stan returned home with a slew of wax figures, Y/n immediately expressed her disapproval.

"What is this..."

"They're wax figures! Got them at very low prices."

"Let me guess, you stole them while they weren't looking?" She crossed her arms.

Stan let out the biggest laugh. "You know me so well," he said quite affectionately, "Now, help me transfer them to the other room!"

They moved the remaining wax figures to the other side of the museum. They were definitely heavy, and Y/n was exhausted because she had no idea who these famous people that Stan had mentioned, and as a result, she felt like her energy was being wasted.

Stan decided to hire a handyman for the first time in twenty years. The person was tall and lanky. According to Y/n's observations, he was inexperienced, but he desperately needed a job, and Stan was sold the moment the guy said it didn't matter how much he was paid.

Yet, just the past few days of him working, Y/n was already shaking her head in disgruntlement. "What is he doing?" she whispered to herself as she watched Durland guess which part of the engine to touch from the window inside the Shack.

"What'cha watching?" Stan asked from beside her, sipping on his Pitt Cola. Y/n remained speechless, letting him see it for himself. She watched his reaction morphing from curiosity to something that she couldn't decipher. "Oh, boy."

"Why didn't you just have me fix up the golf cart myself? Would have fixed it in under fifteen and he's been working on it for an hour!" Suddenly, a yawn escaped her mouth.

"Look how tired you are," Stan said, "You already have the portal in your hands and I'm busy giving tours enough as it is."

"But clearly, he's an idiot. He's pulling on the wrong wire as we speak!"

As if on cue, the engine spewed black smoke and produced sparks. Durland coughed aggressively, removing his hat, and fanning away the exhaust.

"I'm gonna fire him," Stan said with a blank stare.

The bustling crowd from outside catches their attention, and Stan adjusts his bowtie. Y/n follows his figure walking towards the door. "Stan, fire him. Now. I'll fix the golf cart myself!"

"Sure, pumpkin. I'll do that- right after this!" And right after that, he just vanishes and his voice can be heard from outside, followed by noises of amazement and wonder. "Schlep right up, ladies and gentlemen to see my latest attraction-"

Y/n rolled her eyes as he flaunted his wax museum for the umpteenth time. Nothing beats seeing a crowd of people standing still. She was certain that this attraction would not last more than a month. When the door to the gift shop opened, Y/n quickly walked away, avoiding eye contact with a boy wearing a party hat who was walking towards the vending machine.

She went to the kitchen and got herself another can of Pitt cola, deciding that she should just use this time to relax a little. She heard more voices coming from the gift shop and assumed that some of his friends had joined him, purchasing something from the candy machine.

"You must be some kind of genius!"

The moment the voices were gone, Y/n approached the door and opened it ever so slightly. She took a peek around the gift shop to see that it was vacant and from the spot she was standing on, she had a view of the unfixed golf cart outside, making her huff in slight frustration.

She glanced at the medium-sized freezer that was on the floor, the side panel opened and exposed all its parts, which were also scattered on the ground. A tool box was open and strewn next to it. "This handyman is hopeless. Hopeless Handyman," she muttered to herself as she knelt down to inspect the problem. It appeared that one of the parts had become defective and that it was time to replace it, but no one seemed to be removing it – perhaps they didn't even realize the problem so they couldn't fix it.

"Where the heck is the screwdriver?" She rummaged through the toolbox for the necessary equipment, but she couldn't find it.

"Have you seen him?" Stan popped up beside her, and she raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. He appeared to have finished with the first wave of tourists.

"No. He's busy not fixing the golf cart and apparently this ice- box thing, too."

He finally had enough and called the man's name. He eventually appeared alongside the two of them. Stan yanked the man outside, furious. "That is it-!"

Y/n didn't even get to hear the rest because her watch made a familiar beep. She hurried to the vending machine, entered the code she created, and staggered to the hallway as soon as the machine opened. The elevator took her to the bottom floor, and she wasted no time in pressing a specific button that would somehow neutralize the surveillance room. Something is probably overheating.

She huffed slightly as she cautiously swept her sweaty brow with her arm. "Stan... he forgot to turn it on again."

He was always in charge of pressing the button to stabilize the temperature of the portal before the two went upstairs, so the room stayed on while they were up there. Because of a lack of proper resources, leaving it on for an extended period of time causes everything to overheat and eventually explode, so there was a button to somehow distribute the electricity to other parts of the Shack. It was an extremely complex system-

"-that Stan shouldn't forget!" Y/n hissed. She checked over everything to see if it was stable now, and after a couple more inspections, she eventually left the room and returned to the elevator. "He almost destroyed everything. Okay, I'll just press the button myself before we leave. He's getting old."

In the meantime, she isn't. She's the same thirteen-year-old girl. She thought it was unfair that she didn't get to grow up like a normal human being, but most of the time she was grateful that she didn't grow and still learned something new every day. She may appear to be a youngster on the outside, but she felt far more intelligent and wise than the people far older than her.

Cautiously opening the vending machine, no one was there. She quickly slunk through the crevice that the machine had provided and closed it with force. Y/n let out a breath she didn't know she was holding and pretended to be someone who just casually walked out from the door.

"Hi!"

She screamed shortly, taking a few steps back. It was the kid with the party hat from earlier, who was now holding a red screwdriver. The same screwdriver that she was looking for.

"Hi..." she replied slowly, observing the boy. He was wearing a large question mark shirt – one of Mystery Shack's merchandise – over his red dinosaur shirt. It was far too large for him, yet he still wore the brightest smile ever. "What are you doing with the screwdriver?"

"Oh, um," he fiddled with the tool sheepishly. "I found this in my backyard and I wanted to return it, but that Mister with the cool suit hired me." He pointed at Stan's figure outside, who had his arms stretched proudly.

"Hired you? What did you hire you for?"

"...to fix a... golf cart?"

Y/n shook her head at Stan's incredulous decision. "Unbelievable. Uh-" she trailed off, not having a clue on what to do with this kid. "I'll go talk to him really quickly. You just... try and familiarize yourself with the freezer over there. Okay, bye."

She just needed to walk away for some reason and as she did, she looked back and watched as the boy amateurishly trifled around the freezer. She shook her head for the umpteenth time.

"Remember folks, we bring the fun in No Refunds! Tell your friends about the Mystery Shack?"

Stan returned inside, carrying a bag full of money. She idly followed him, and he didn't seem to mind, until Y/n finally cleared her throat. "Stan?"

"What's up," he blankly replied, inserting his hand into the bag and began clawing each dollar bills and counting one by one.

"Seriously."

"What did I do this time," Stan grumbled numbers under his breath. He's good at multitasking, counting money and talking to her, but he can mute her at any time and focus on the counting instead.

"Did you just hire a kid to be the Shack's handyman?" Y/n crossed her arms, staring at him disapprovingly.

He didn't say anything at first, and Y/n already knew that he was shutting her out. She waited until he finished adding up his income before pushing it all down inside the cash register and closing it.

She took the chance to continue her stance, "Seriously, a kid?"

"You're acting like you're decades older than him. You're only thirteen, Y/n, suck it up." Stan strolled by one of the shelves and took the duster and began cleaning.

"I'm-!"

"And hey, it's easier to teach a kid," he said, turning around to face her. "You know that old saying? Teach that kid to fish."

"I have no idea what the heck you're talking about."

Stan fully faced her. "If you teach him what you know, maybe he'll get to grow as someone who's actually capable," he whispered as if sharing a secret. "It's like planting a tree. It wouldn't grow unless you guide and take care of it."

Stan finally left her to herself. Y/n glanced behind her to see the kid reading a manual about the freezer as he scratched his hair, clueless.

The advice that Stan gave her was unbelievably wise, but he had a point. Begrudgingly, Y/n approached the boy on the ground. "Uhm, hey."

"What's up, dude?" He brought down the paper and looked at her.

At this moment, Y/n realized that he wasn't supposed to see her. Now her face was basically imprinted on his mind now – unless he's very easily influenced or has a weak memory. Hoping to distract him, she began communicating with him, "What's your name? Oh, is it your birthday?" she asked, referring to the party hat sitting atop his hair. "Happy birthday!"

"Heh, thanks," he replied, "I'm Soos. What about you?"

"You can call me Y/n," she said, before looking down at the untidy floor. "Uh... do you like... fixing stuff?"

"I haven't tried – because my Abuelita wouldn't let me– but I'm willing to learn!"

She gave a sweet smile before averting her gaze. Soos reminded her of herself from years ago, when she was eager to learn from the master. "Okay," she began, sitting on the floor next to him. "You're gonna want to find the problem; is it in the compressor? The relay switch?"

Soos may not be as bright or as quick to learn as she is, but his drive is unwavering.

Y/n watched him grow up and no longer need her help, but she had to be cautious about him possibly seeing her not aging. So she and Stan devised a strategy. To be specific, a lie.

Soos was twenty-one years old, and the new cashier girl just turned fifteen. The next day, Stan and Y/n walked into the Shack carrying Stan's suitcase. "Everybody, welcome Y/n."

"Hi," the girl meekly said, "You can call me Y/n."

"Hi, Y/n," Soos replied, pausing after. He narrowed his eyes on them. "Say, you look like someone I've met before..."

"Oh, you must've met my older sister. My mom named us the same and she took a vacation on Gravity Falls, too!" Y/n said, somewhat cheerfully. A single sweat dropped along the side of her cheek. "She told me about Stan's reliable handyman. Soos, right?"

"Heh, did she really?" Soos asked, a small blush appearing on his face. "Y/n taught me everything I needed to know."

"Can't believe your mom would name you both Y/n," Wendy commented from behind the counter. "That must've been confusing on the dinner table."

I know. Stan thought internally.

"Heh, yeah..." Y/n chuckled shyly. "It was ridiculous, but we grew up with it. Anyway, where am I staying, Stan?"

"Oh, uh. Follow me."

The moment that the two stepped out of the gift shop and entered the hallway leading to Y/n's room, she scolded Stan in hushed whispers, "You could've been any happier to see me?"

"What, you told me to act natural."

Y/n shook her head. "Let's just hope that they bought it."

"Oh, please. Soos? He's too dumb to pick up the clues, and Wendy wouldn't care enough to notice. They're the perfect clueless pair when I'm living a double life here, you know? They're not... adventurous, curious, nosy."

She frowned. "I can't believe it's been thirty years and we still haven't done anything. We haven't even found any journals. It's all hopeless.'

"Hey, don't lose hope," Stan reassured, placing a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him. "We're still gonna try. Even if it takes a million years."

Eventually, Y/n smiled. "Until the end of the line."

"You and me."

Ring ring! Ring ring!

The ringing broke their resolve. Stan immediately glanced at the telephone situated on the dining table. Stan trudged towards it and answered within the fourth ring. "Hello?"

"Hi. Is this my Uncle Stanford?"

Stan cocked his brow. It sounded like a younger version of Shermie. He had a feeling it was Shermie's son, Henry, but he wanted to be certain. "Who's this?"

"Oh, is this not my uncle?"

"Yes, this is him," he replied, perhaps begrudgingly, dragging a hand across his face. "Who am I speaking to?"

"Oh, this is Henry. Henry Pines. My dad told me I could send my twins to your place for the whole summer for some 'fresh air'," he said, letting out a few chuckles, "I know they're gonna need it, so... I trust that they'll have a great time in your care?"

"Uh," Stan stuttered, his gaze traveling in every part of the room until it landed on the girl who gave him an inquisitive look. "Sure, sure! Send 'em here! They'll have the best summer! Yes!"

Y/n watched as Stan nodded more and agreed with what the man was saying before he put the telephone down, breathing heavily. "Who was that?"

"He's sending his twins for the summer!" Stan wore a huge smile on his face, doing a little jig.

"Okay, but why did you look nervous before the end of the call?" she noticed.

Curse her perceptiveness.

"Well, because-" he fidgeted with his fingers. When he saw Y/n's suspicious expression, he sighed, defeated. "I want to make a good impression. They're supposed to know me as Ford; a genius, an inventor, a role model."

"But you're not Ford."

"I know! I'm just the dumber twin, posing as him," he said as he punched the wall next to him, but Y/n didn't even flinch, just stared at him.

"You know what I'm gonna say," she started monotonously.

Stan made a forced sound. "Yeah."

"Why do you still think that, then." She crossed her arms to herself. "You're not Ford and you don't have to act like him. No one even knows how he acts up close except for me, so you don't have anything to worry about. Just be you."

"Who am I?"

"You're Stan Pines, a funny, creative man, who knows business more than I do. You're the best at coming up with fictional creatures, creatures that I haven't even thought of. And I know that someone like Stan Pines will give his great grand-kids a good time."

"Heh, I know," Stan smirked, making Y/n deadpan. "I just wanted some gassing up from you."

Although, words coming from her really mean a lot to him.

***

It was finally time for the twins to arrive. Y/n had to admit that she was nervous, but she could argue that Stan was more nervous than she was. He was untying and retying the knot of his maroon bow tie for the umpteenth time.

"Don't worry, you still look somewhat presentable," she said amusingly. Her arms were still crossed.

"Do I?" Stan grumbled, looking at her through the mirror. His back was facing her as he combed his large hand through his graying hair. "You know, Y/n, I really want you to meet them. You might get along just fine."

"Come on, Stan, you think someone like me could go along with them? How many friends have I made for the last thirty years?"

Stan chuckled before his laughter died down. "Add those two to the growing list of people we're lying to."

"Yeah," Y/n said, sighing. "I'm confident we'll do well. We've been able to keep it hidden for thirty years. There's no way, no one would know."

"I just hope those kids won't meddle too much. The last thing I want is to put them in danger."

She remained silent and said nothing else. Stan genuinely cared about the twins, despite the fact that he hadn't seen them in nearly thirteen years. He held them during childbirth and eagerly told Y/n all the details as soon as he got home. So, of course, the moment his wristwatch rang, he strode past her and out of the room. Y/n had to laugh because she could tell Stan couldn't hide his excitement.

"Let's hope it's a normal summer."

***

CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 8!

kimmiepines
originally published: august 19, 2022
6835 words

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a/n: i apologize for the mistakes and errors; some verbs turned into present and i'm telling you guys that that was just a moment of weakness lol.

anyway. just a heads up: the next set of chapters are going to be based on EVERY episode of gravity falls. two episodes per chapter so we'll get to it faster.

i hope you guys still read it, though, because i'm still adding more original storyline and details & original dialogue. not just the verbatim script for the show lol.

that's it, thanks for reading!