A Friend (Stanford Pines x Reader)

Kids

As it always does, time continued to move on. First one year, then two, then ten, fifteen, twenty, and eventually, thirty. When you spend majority of your evening hours inside a dark basement shrouded by old papers yellowing with age, your mind tends to wander over such concepts. It had been thirty long years without Ford. You aged, as did Stan, as did Ford. It's not fair. We were supposed to grow older together.  You could no longer picture what he could possibly look like now in your mind -- that had grown difficult after Stan's first few bits of grey hair began to show. 

The Murder Hut had transformed into the Mystery Shack, and it was no longer a one-man operation. Soos, the handyman, had practically grown up here. Despite his clumsiness and tendency to make mistakes, you couldn't not love is happy-go-lucky demeanor and unwavering optimism. He would never admit to it, but you knew Stan was fond of him as well. Wendy, though she was your typical teenager, was a good kid at the end of the day as well. 

The door to the  basement is concealed by a vending machine. You didn't argue when Stan had it covered. Before, the portal had been protected for its value. It was still valuable now, but for entirely different reasons. If your secret was blown, so was the possibility of ever bringing Ford home, and you weren't going to let that happen. 

Progress was agonizingly slow, but between your intellect and experience, along with the journal and Stan's refusal to give up, you had come a long way from the first few months working on the project. Stan barely stopped. Calls and visits from family were a rare occurrence, and Stan drowned himself almost completely in the task at hand. The last time he had taken more than a day to pause was when he was called to Piedmont, California to meet the newest members of the family, Dipper and Mabel Pines. As Stan held them, his face was contorted in an unfathomable expression. You remembered him clutching them tightly,  as though he could protect them from whatever the world threw at them, murmuring soft phrases to them as they slept. "You were born with a best friend... You're so, so special... How I wish he could see this,"

You tried to ignore the whispering that echoed around the house, Stan's gruff, husky voice speaking to his reflection. It was his coping mechanism, and though you tried, it never worked for you. Nothing could take away the loneliness. 

The door to the room slammed open, startling you from your thoughts. The papers surrounding you fluttered in the air as Stan stormed in, hands in the air. "Kids! I dunno how to take care of kids!"

"What are you talking about?" you asked, trying to collect the papers. 

"Dipper and Mabel are coming over for the summer. How are we supposed to watch two kids?! I dunno jack-shit 'bout kids!" Stan cried. "I haven't seen any family since... since they were born," Standing up, you made your way over to him. "Calm down, Stan. Just breathe, okay? We have time. When do they get here?"

"Tomorrow!"

"Okay..." you hesitated, looking down. "Maybe we don't have time. That's... fine, I guess. How hard can it be? They're just kids. We were kids, once." Your attempts to rationalize the situation were weak at best. "How much notice did their parents even give you for this?"

"Huh?" Stan hummed, scratching at his lower back. "Oh, they told me months ago," You raised your hands in the air, making a noise of disbelief. "So why didn't you start preparing sooner?" Stan groaned and crossed the room. "I forgot, okay?!" He sighed and rubbed his eyes and nose. "Look, whatever happens, I don't want them gettin' tied up into this," he gestured to the portal for emphasis, "This town is nuts, and I'll be damned if they get hurt on my watch. This is between me and you, no one else."

"You don't have to tell me twice," you muttered disdainfully. The oddities of Gravity Falls had already consumed three people. There was no need to pull the kids into it.