Chapter Text
When Stanford was done emphatically explaining his big idea, hand gestures and everything as he paced around the living room, all Stanley had to say was: “I thought we weren’t planning on solving any mysteries this summer.”
“Were we?” Ford scratched his chin with one of his six fingers. “Hm. Well, then, we should probably make some adjustments to that plan. This anomaly signal is huge! My tracker has been vibrating so much, I had to lock it in a photon-proof safe!”
“Photon-proo— well, what about the kids?” Stan gestured towards the staircase where, upstairs, his grand-niece and nephew were still fast asleep. It was only 7:00 a.m.; Ford had woken him up with his frantic pacing and muttering to himself in the hallway outside his bedroom.
“I’m sure they’ll be ecstatic,” Ford assured his brother. “They’ve only been at the house for two nights and they’re already looking for trouble. Did you hear about that raccoon Mabel trapped and covered with glitter?”
“Ha. I taught her that snare,” Stan chuckled with pride. “Okay, okay, so long as their parents are okay with it.” Even though everyone else in the house was asleep, he lowered his voice a little. “They’ll probably be too distracted to say no. I heard it’s been a messy divorce.”
Ford sighed. “Indeed. I feel sorry for the kids. I remember when Mom and Dad broke up. It was rough, especially for Dad.”
“Oh, yeah. Wasn’t there for that. Y’know, with my life of crime and all, guess I didn’t have time to go all boo-hoo about the feelings of the guy who fucking kicked me outta the house.”
“That was unfair of him,” Ford agreed firmly, although looking a little uncomfortable at the insult hurled at their long-dead father, who Ford had always been closer to. “Anyways, with the time zones, it’s already nine o’clock for Dipper and Mabel’s parents, so we should be able to call and confirm it’s alright with them before telling the kids. I wouldn’t want to get their hopes up in case their guardians say no.”
Mr. and Mrs. Pines were still living together, but only because the custody battle was still in the trenches and with both of them having full-time jobs that only paid so much, neither were in a good position to relocate away from the other. It was rough for everyone involved, but at least it gave the kids a good excuse to get away for the summer.
“Maybe I should call,” Stan suggested, and Ford hastily nodded in agreement. Even though he was a whiz with gadgets, the six-fingered man was still not completely adjusted to all the aspects of modern technology he had missed out on, and both of the twins remembered vividly the occasion a ringing cell phone alarm triggered his PTSD into thinking it was a bomb preparing to detonate.
Stan whipped out his phone and started dialing the number. The parents answered pretty quickly, and after a bit of back-and-forth (involving a detailed lie Stan made up about a tour of the country for a scientific experiment involving two pairs of twins trapped in a car for hours on end, which Mr. and Mrs. Pines somehow believed) they got a solid yes.
“Hey, Grunkles,” Mabel called out just then, her and Dipper descending the stairs and rubbing their eyes groggily. “Ugh, so tired … I need some Mabel Juice.”
“We heard talking and woke up,” Dipper explained. “What’s up? Stan, you’re hardly ever up this early.”
The older Pines twins grinned excitedly, sharing a knowing look. Stan cleared his throat dramatically. “Kids, we have some real big news for you.” Dipper and Mabel perked up at this, both of their tiredness seeming to have magically vanished.
“Whatisitwhatisitwhatisit!” Mabel bounced up and down excitedly.
“Your uncle and I have been receiving a very strong signal from our anomaly detector,” Ford began.
“Ford’s anomaly detector,” Stan corrected. “I’m not taking credit for that nerdy shi— junk. I mean junk.”
“Anyways,” Ford continued with a pointed look at his brother, “the signals are coming from a town in Connecticut called Gravesfield. Most of our adventures have been pretty far out—“
“Ha! Tell me about it.” Stan slapped his knee. “Remember that time at the South Pole when—“
Ford cleared his throat. “Stanley.”
“Agh, sorry, sorry. Keep going.”
“So, anyways, the signals began a few days ago, when I was tuning the detector. It operates by picking up on—“
“Interdimensional frequencies!” Dipper blurted out. “It has to be tuned a certain way for each new discovery, since each universe has a different frequency completely unique from the others, and any device tracking them has to pick up on that! Great Uncle Ford, haven’t you just been tuning it at random for all of your anomaly hunting?”
“Actually, no!” Ford replied proudly. “I’ve come up with a mathematical formula that can solve for the probability of a dimension’s appearance in any coordinate imaginable on Earth, but with infinite possibilities …”
“You have to narrow it down to whichever frequency the detector can pick up most accurately?”
“Exactly, my boy!” Ford gave Dipper a pat on the back, and he beamed proudly in response.
“What happened to staying on task?” Stan asked slyly, giving his brother a side-eye.
“Oh, uh …” Ford coughed, straightening himself. “Apologies, family. So, as Dipper mentioned, I actually did tune the detector at random for this occasion, just to have a little fun and see what I could find, and I discovered a new set of coordinates right here in America, which the detector seemed to have a very accurate grasp on. Actually, because of this new extension I added to the device, it could even give me exact addresses based on satellite signals— what’s it called, GPS— and what I found was very interesting indeed!”
“What were the addresses?” Dipper asked. Mabel and Stan both seemed a bit lost, but Dipper was dying to know.
“An apartment in a town near Gravesfield, an aquarium, a therapist clinic, and, strangely enough, a residence in suburban Gravesfield.”
“Huh.”
“Huh indeed, my boy. Seems a bit odd, don’t you think? No arctic outreaches, no distant and uninhabitable islands? Normal places, where other humans like ourselves would be. No reports of monsters or anything remotely supernatural. Almost as if …”
Dipper gasped, figuring it out. “Almost as if … there were people like us from other dimensions!”
“What?” Stan and Mabel exclaimed at the same time. Mabel may have also whispered something in her excitement that sounded a lot like “cute elf boys!”
“Yes!” Ford beamed excitedly, moving his hands crazily as he continued. He looked down at the kids. “Children, how would you like to go on a new adventure this summer?”
Mabel gasped. “Omigosh, yes! What if the people are actually magical centaur elf boy unicorns who fall in love with me? That would be the ultimate summer romance!”
“Unlikely,” Dipper replied, equally excited, though showing it in his frantic pacing instead of shouting. “They could be non-threatening shapeshifters blending in as humans, ‘cause, y’know, there definitely would have been something in the news about a centaur elf in Gravesfield of all places. Most of the super inhuman creatures hide in remote locations, like the ones Stan and Ford have been going to.”
“Enough of the nerd talk!” Stan exclaimed, groaning with exasperation. He wanted action. “Let’s pack our bags and leave at noon! Ford can get us a direct flight with his fancy grant money, so let’s go, go, go!”
Sword_Sash13: dropped by Robin’s Roast and officially off to work! :)
VagabondiaMarMar: have fun! Don’t forget to try those organizing sticky note thingys I gave u!,
drag-Anne-fly: Marcy! I thought u were still asleep?
VagabondiaMarMar: oh, uhhh yeah I am *snore* zzzzzz
Sword_Sash13: lol
drag-Anne-fly: if I knew u were txting in bed I would have made you get up
drag-Anne-fly: we can’t be lazy today!,! It’s spring cleaning!!!
VagabondiaMarMar: technically it’s summer now
drag-Anne-fly: aaaaa u know what I mean. Our apartment is a mess!!
Sword_Sash13: classic Marmar! Gtg
VagabondiaMarMar: byeee Sasha! :)))
drag-Anne-fly: RESPECTFULLY, GET URSELF UP MAR
VagabondiaMarMar: never!! >:)
Anne sighed dramatically and pushed herself up from her spot at the kitchenette where she was eating her breakfast, making her way back to the bedroom her and Marcy were sharing, where she thought her girlfriend was asleep.
Marcy was curled in a T-Rex position on her side of the bed, pretending to snore and doing a really bad job of it. It sounded more like she was trying to imitate a pig’s snorts.
“Okay, the jig is up,” Anne joked, giving Marcy a playful shove off the bed.
“Hey!” Marcy exclaimed, laughing as her bedcovers were brought down with her. “Agh, I would totally get up, Anne, but the floor is just so … comfy …”
“Not for long it isn’t,” Anne said, tugging the comforter out from under her girlfriend. “How come you’re so energetic whenever it’s something you want to do, but when it comes to chores, you’re so—“
“Effective? Determined?”
“Lazy,” Anne deadpanned. She finally managed to yank the blankets out of Marcy’s vice-like grip. “You are so lucky I leave for work in the afternoon today, or else you’d be stuck doing all the work by yourself.”
“Stuck procrastinating on the work by myself. Which I’m actually fantastic at. Years of experience.”
Anne sighed. “You’re lucky I love you so much.” She spared a glance at her phone, where Sasha had updated the group chat with a message that announced she had made it to work in one piece.
Marcy followed her gaze. “We still text like we did when we were teenagers,” she observed.
“Ha, yeah. Some things never change.”
“Speaking of which …” Marcy pulled out her own phone to show a calendar app to Anne. “Today’s the anniversary of the day we reunited at Newtopia!”
“Aw, I remember that day …” Anne sighed happily at the nostalgia. “The killer ants …”
“The sinister king …” Marcy added.
“That weird grudge Sprig had with you …”
“Yeah,” Marcy laughed. “Funny little guy. I miss him.”
Anne’s smile fell a little. “Yeah. Me too.”
“Hey, buck up, buttercup!” Marcy nudged Anne softly, casting her an encouraging smile.
“That’s a new one,” she replied.
“Oh, uh, do you not like it?” Marcy looked up nervously. “My dad used to, uh, say that to me when I was down … but it’s fine if you don’t dig it!”
“No, no, it’s fine!” Anne assured her. “I think it’s cute, personally.” Blushing, she added, “Everything you say is cute.”
Marcy giggled. “You too.” She pecked Anne on the cheek, whose blush spread to the tips of her ears in response. “So, still need help with that spring cleaning?”
Anne nodded, smiling proudly. “I knew you’d come around.”
“You know I always do.” Marcy led Anne by the hand to the kitchen, where she saw the meal already set out for her. “Oh, you made me breakfast! Thank you!”
“My classic omelets and rice,” Anne said proudly. “But, uh, it’s probably cold by now … let me just heat it up for you real quick …”
Marcy beamed. Her girlfriend was so considerate and kind … it made her want to do something for Anne in return … but what?
Since today was the anniversary of when they reunited in Newtopia, a gift would be perfect! But what to get her? Marcy knew for a fact there were some adorable shops in Gravesfield with little trinkets and knick knacks Anne always showed interest in, but she was too busy to do anything more than window shop …
Marcy was so lost in thought that she almost didn’t notice when the food was finished heating up. “Done!” Anne announced, pushing the black-haired girl a plate.
“Mm, thanks!” Marcy licked her lips, biting into the meal. The spring cleaning would be worth it if it meant she could find a way to thank Anne for being the best girlfriend (and the best cook!) ever.
Sasha swung by Robin’s Roast before heading into the office. Last night had been exhausting but fun. She had hung out with some of her old friends from high school, and the night before she and Marcy had gone to some psychology event, because Marcy was fascinated by that kind of stuff and Sasha figured it would be good for experience, since she worked in the psychology field.
“My usual, please,” she said to the blonde lady at the counter, who she knew by name from the amount of times she came for caffeine before work and after a long night.
“Oh, hi, Sasha!” Ellie (that was the name of the woman) greeted her. “Long night? You know, I’ve got a great concealer for those eyebags of yours, it’s from a more expensive brand, but I promise it’s worth—“
“I’m good,” Sasha grinned, having to cut Ellie off before she went off on another of her tangents. “Besides, I dig my eyebags. I have a feeling it’ll help me relate more to one of my patients.”
“Ha! Nice one. So, your usual, that’d be black with sugar, no milk?”
“You got it.” Sasha clicked finger guns at Ellie, who laughed, and turned to shout out the order to some long-haired teenager with a name tag that read “Josh”, who was at the coffee maker making another order. What was weird, though, was that everyone else in the café already had their drink.
Ellie groaned, seeming to have noticed this too. “Josh, stop using the machine to make drinks for yourself! You know we’re short on beans with those new tariffs! Get your ass over here or I swear to God …”
Sasha laughed. “Take your time, Ellie. I’m not in a big hurry.”
“No, no, we at Robin’s Roast pride ourselves on our quality service, and Josh just hasn’t caught onto that yet.” Ellie shot a glare at the teen, who looked as though he might have been startled, but it was hard to tell under his long hair.
“Oh, hey!” Josh perked up suddenly. “Aren’t you Sasha Waybright?”
“The one and only.” Sasha winked.
“My buddy Hunter, he said you were his therapist!”
“Oh! You know Hunter?”
“Yeah, he’s probably mentioned me, hasn’t he?” Josh leaned casually against the counter, inspecting his fingernails and trying to act nonchalant, much to Ellie’s annoyance.
“Oh, uh …” Sasha looked around awkwardly, “Yeah, I think he said something about you at one point.” Hunter had not. Had it not been for this random teen’s announcement, she wouldn’t have even known of the existence of Josh.
“Yeah.” Josh stretched his arms. “We’re pretty tight.”
“I’m sure you are. Now, um …” Sasha was looking around for an excuse to change the topic. Besides with her friends, she didn’t like mentioning her patients around others outside of work, especially not by name for confidentiality reasons. Her eyes caught on a picture pinned above her, depicting a woman with large grey hair, covered ears, and a live raccoon. How had she not noticed that before?
“Oh, that’s Marylin,” Ellie explained, following Sasha’s gaze to the picture. “She got banned for trying to pay with a live raccoon. Heh. Crazy. Never found out what happened to her after that.”
“Interesting …” This seemed connected to Hunter somehow, and his world he had come from. One thing most people in Gravesfield didn’t know about Hunter (probably including Josh, who claimed to be “tight” with him) was that he was actually from another dimension called the Boiling Isles, where rain could kill you and Hunter’s dead uncle had been a tyrannical dictator. He had mentioned his friends there, Gus and Amity, and the girl he had a crush on, Willow. (Hunter asking for love advice was just about the most adorable thing ever.)
Sasha made a mental note to ask Hunter about Marylin at some point. Paying for coffee with wild animals somehow seemed along the lines of the Boiling Isles’s unique culture, and she had seen weirder stuff happen in Amphibia anyways.
After she got her coffee (later than planned, because of Josh, but she didn’t mind too much) she got back in her flaming red convertible, her pride and joy. It reminded her of the hue she turned into in her Calamity form while fighting against the Core.
Steering with one hand and using the other to take a sip of her drink, she headed towards her clinic. It was small, but nice, and a friend of hers who was in some rough waters a few years back and needed a job worked as a receptionist.
“Hey, Aiden!” Sasha waved to the receptionist. Aiden had shoulder-length auburn hair that he held back with a man-bun that was held together with a pencil. He scratched lazily at the stubble on his chin. He was more of the chill, closeted nerd type at the back of the class in high school, who would come in early just to write fake assignments on the board and not put any effort into any of the schoolwork. He was a good receptionist, though. If there was one thing he put honest thought into, it was the well-being of the kids coming into the clinic.
“Sup, Sash?” Aiden had a very laid-back way of speaking, even in professional environments. It could be useful at times to help put new patients at ease when meeting their receptionist, but sometimes it was a bit inconvenient when Aiden tried to come up with new words and slip them into conversation. “Still dating that girl … what’ser name, Maya?”
“Didn’t you know?” Sasha sighed, exasperated. “I broke up with her, like, three months ago!”
“Ah. Right. So now you’re back with Clark.”
“Aiden. I dumped him last year.”
“Ah! Right right right.” Aiden clicked his pen with each “right”. “Ha! Remember when you had a crush on Anne B? That was fun.”
Sasha’s cheeks burned up a little. “That was— that was in middle school! I was thirteen! Anyways, she’s happy with Marcy now, and— and I’ve put that behind me.”
Aiden raised an eyebrow. “If you say so, boss. Gotta thing for Boonchuy still? That why you didn’t stick with Maya? Heh. I liked her. Great sense of humor. Not much brain there, though. Boonchuy, though … heh, she was great in science. Not the best at math. Remember when she gotta 30 on that one test?”
“You sound like you’ve had something to drink, Kool-Aid.” That was the nickname Sasha liked to call him. It was something random she came up with in high school when he dumped a tub of Kood-Aid on himself at a high school party where everyone was having drinks that were … certainly not Kool-Aid, to say the least. The name kind of stuck. “Are you coming into work high?”
“Nah, this just how I talk. Y’know me. I’ve always been a bit—“ He made a whistling sound and knocked a fist against his head.
Sasha sighed. “At least you’re not like this in front of our patients. And how come you don’t remember who I’m dating but you can remember the grades Anne got in school?”
“ADHD, baby!” Aiden whooped. The blonde laughed in spite of herself.
“First appointment’s at ten,” Sasha called over her shoulder as she left the lobby to head to her office.
“Hunter Noceda, right?”
“Yep. Do us all a favor and stop acting like an addict, will ya?”
“Fuck no!”
Sasha rolled her eyes, but she trusted Aiden. He was a little shit around his friends, but he was surprisingly great with kids. She had come to trust him with managing the receptionist desk solo.
She used the time waiting for the clock to strike ten by paying some bills. Her apartment was in a building near Anne and Marcy’s, only it was a bit nicer since being a therapist paid more than being a webcomic artist, for example.
Paperwork was very dull and monotonous, however, and she found her mind wandering to what Aiden had said earlier.
“Ha! Remember when you had a crush on Anne B? That was fun.”
He was right. Sasha had a thing for Anne … a long time ago, back when she was in middle school and during their time in Amphibia. However, her attachment to Anne and constant need for control led her to some pretty abusive behavior, and even though they mended their friendship, Sasha had to admit to herself that romance wasn’t an option. Besides, Anne had found love in Marcy. The blonde could tell by the way those two nerds flirted with each other and got each other all flustered.
Then Marcy moved away, Anne and Sasha fell into different friend groups in high school, and nothing was really the same until they all reunited after ten years since their big adventure. Marcy moved back (she was a webcomic artist, after all, it didn’t matter where she worked) and she and Anne eventually started dating.
Of course, then the earthquake had to happen. They all lived in California; they had all seen some pretty wild ones before. But this one caved in a part of the aquarium, wrecking Anne’s exhibit. She was so devastated that she and Marcy moved far away from the fault line, to Gravesfield. Sasha went too, because that’s where Aiden had ended up and he needed a job.
Then Sasha started the clinic, Anne found a new aquarium to work at, (and improve with her amazing exhibits) and Marcy kept doing her thing with the comics.
It was all back to normal. (Except for Hunter, and the Boiling Isles, and the whole witchcraft magic thing, but isn’t life a little better with some adventure?)
Sasha perked up when she heard a knocking at the door with Hunter’s familiar tentativeness. It was him, alright.
“Come in!” she called from her desk, getting up and sitting in her usual chair. The door squeaked open and a pointed-eared, tissue-scarred, brown-eyed blonde teen walked in. He sat down at his usual spot on the couch, not leaning back like a lot of other kids might have done but instead rocking on the edge of his seat.
“Hi, Sasha,” he greeted, and Sasha smiled a little. She was glad she was able to make him feel comfortable enough in the space to finally call her by her first name, no “Ms. Waybright” or anything. Not that she would have minded, but the kid could do to be a little less formal and feel at home.
“Hey, Hunter!” she said, racking her brain for anything Hunter might have mentioned last appointment that she could start out with. She had an aha moment and added, “Sooo, did you garden with Willow yesterday?”
“Oh, yeah, I did!” Hunter said excitedly, any semblance of quiet gone. He gripped the edge of the couch as he began a signature Hunter ramble. “Um, so she was planting wild strawberries today, a-and asked me to help because she’s really strong — she didn’t say that, of course, she’s so humble — but the seeds sometimes try to run away — and she said I’m really fast so I’d be super good at it — she said I was good at something! She says that a lot, though, she’s really nice, like, the nicest person I know, but — anyways. I tried that thing you said last time, a-about confidence. So I told her I loved her new glasses and it could have been the light, but I think she blushed! I made Willow blush!”
“Yes!” Sasha pumped her fist. “That’s perfect! Great job, Hunter!”
Hunter beamed. It showed his tooth gap. “T-thanks.” He gripped the edge of the couch harder in excitement.
Sasha smiled softly, noticing this. “It might hurt grabbing the couch like that,” she observed. “You know, I have some fidgets and stress toys if you want them, or you can stim. I could be wrong, but are you gripping the couch because you want to, I dunno, flap your hands or bounce your knee? Something like that?” She remembered one of Camila’s phone calls to her where she mentioned her theories that Hunter had autism. Marcy had autism, so Sasha could recognize a lot of those signs in the grimwalker as well.
“Oh, uh …” Hunter looked alarmed at getting called out like that. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for you to notice — but that’s no excuse — i-it wasn’t my intention to be deceitful, of c-course …” He scrunched his eyes shut as if awaiting a strike. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey,” Sasha said in a calming voice, “I’m not mad. I was just wondering because I want you to feel safe expressing yourself. A lot of people do stuff like flapping their hands. It’s called stimming. Of course, if you just like grabbing the couch, that’s perfectly fine with me as well. I just want to make sure you know you have options.” She rummaged through the drawers of the stand next to her chair. “Like, I have stress balls, and fidget spinners, ooh, and slime, that’s a favorite … as long as you don’t make a mess with it, but if you do I can clean it up easily …”
“A-are you sure it’s okay?” Hunter asked warily, slowly opening his eyes and relaxing himself ever so slightly.
“Of course!” Sasha assured him. “A lot of people stim, like my friend Marcy, for example. People won’t get mad at you for it, and if they do, just know they’re wrong.” She tossed him a stress ball, which he was quick to catch with one hand. “You’re safe here.”
“Oh.” Hunter smiled a little. “O-okay, then. Thanks.”
How Great Uncle Ford was able to arrange the flights and lodging for three month’s worth of summer in a few hours was a mystery even Dipper couldn’t solve. All he knew was that as the plane hit Connecticut soil and the family dragged their bags through the airport, into an Uber, and through Gravesfield to reach a house they were renting from an elderly couple, his enthusiasm was starting to reach a new all-time high. Bill’s defeat had shut off Gravity Falls’s weirdness magnetism, but now he and Mabel could see new anomalies, the kind their uncles got to witness while the younger twins were at home.
“Ah!” Stan stretched his legs before kicking them up on the coffee table in front of the couch he was lounging on, already assuming his default position from back at the Shack. “Glad those old geezers left this place to us for their fancy cruise.”
“Rich, coming from you,” Ford commented, raising his brow. “For all we know, that couple could be younger than us. Besides, they were quite generous to let us rent on such short notice—“
“Generous, schmenerous,” Stan scoffed. “Some dumb European cruise can’t beat the Stan O’ War II. Whatever museum those codgers are enjoying is no match for—“
“Everyone has their tastes!” Ford exclaimed indignantly, his cheeks turning red. Dipper suspected this had something to do with the fact that his uncle probably enjoyed museums way more than a person should.
“Calm down, Grunkles!” Mabel said. “Break it up! No fighting in the house! How did you two manage to spend a year in a boat together, anyways?”
“Adventure!” Stan answered, while Ford simultaneously deadpanned, “Aspirin.” The two shot fierce glares at each other.
“I think having more to do might’ve helped them a bit,” Dipper said to his sister.
“Hell yeah, it did!” Stan agreed. “Hey Sixer, remember when that forty-tentacled quatropus blasted a hole right through the side of the ship?”
“How could I not!” Ford replied enthusiastically, all traces of annoyance vanishing in an instant. “Ha, we had to stop at a glacier just to repair the thing. Kids, when we were fixing the boat up—”
“I was fixing the boat up,” Stanley corrected. He turned to the kids. “Your uncle was busy scribbling away in that diary of his, “for science”, he said, but I’m pretty sure it was just an excuse to not have to work. The repairs took me a solid week on my own! Fat load of help you were.” He nudged Ford playfully, who just laughed and rolled his eyes.
“Just to set the record straight,” Ford added, “I was documenting the repair process so we could retrace our steps in case anything similar ever happened again. And it damn well could, judging by Stan’s weak initial attempts to ward off the quatropus. Going for the tentacles instead of the eyes! Could you imagine?”
“I couldn’t!” Dipper piped up. “It’s basic knowledge! A quatropus’s eyes are its weakest point, everyone knows that! If you try and sever the tentacles—“
“They’ll just regenerate and activate the defensive scale layer!” Ford and Dipper recited in unison, laughing their heads off as if this was common knowledge even the simplest of people should’ve known of.
“Those two, am I right?” Mabel muttered to Stan.
“That’s my brother,” Stan shrugged. “Ego of a king.”
“I bet neither of them will get girlfriends,” Mabel whispered, as if admitting a deep, dark secret.
“Ha!” Stan slapped his knee. “I don’t think they’ll even know to look.”