#a less climactic chapter

Stan looked down at his hands, taking a deep breath. “I didn’t know... not at first. I didn’t want to hurt any of you. I thought I could just leave or—something. I shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be talking to me.”

Dipper kicked his feet into the earth, stopping himself. “You’re wrong.” Finally, Stan looked up. To his surprise, Dipper was biting his lip, tears in her eyes. “You’re still our family. It really freaked us out when you just walked off into the woods. I–it’s weird, and I’m mad you didn’t tell us, but you’re still our grunkle. You’re still a good person.”

Stan forced a small smile. “Y’know, the hardest thing is I... I don’t really want to be a good person. And I don’t mean shop–lifting and lying, I’ve always done that. I mean...” he looked towards the sunset, the fake smile slipping away. “I don’t want the hurt I went through to be anyone’s punishment. I...” he clenched his teeth, hoping Dipper wouldn’t see the tears in his eyes. “I finally did something good in my life. I finally did something right. I don’t want that to be his redemption. He doesn’t deserve it. He hurt Ford, he hurt you, your sister—he was going to kill you guys!”

“But you’re different!” Dipper said fiercely, pushing to his feet. “Last summer, you told me what it means to be a man—to do what’s right even when no one agrees with you. Maybe you don’t agree, but I think you’re a good person! Grunkle Stan, I don’t care about any of this. I mean, I do, but I care about you more! You have to come home!”

Stan chuckled slightly, shaking his head. “You’ve really grown up, huh? L–Listen, I’ll come back for three days. If things work out, maybe—”

“Two weeks,” Dipper interrupts firmly. “There’s no way three days would be enough. Mabel and I have to leave in a little more than that. You have to stay at least that long so we can prove it doesn’t matter.”

Straightening up, he nodded, hesitantly. “Fine. It’s a deal,” he said, holding out his hand to shake on it.

Dipper, however, flinched back, shoving his hands into the pockets of his vest. “Could we maybe just... do a verbal agreement,” he asked, looking a bit hesitant. “I’d rather not... y’know.”

Stan paused, quickly closing his hand. He’d only meant it as a turn of phrase, hadn’t even given it a thought. “‘Course, right. I was just—just, never mind about that.” He could feel it in his bones that this was a bad idea. If he hurt his family, he’d... he wasn’t sure what he’d do. But he couldn’t bring himself to say no. It was only two weeks. He hadn’t promised to stay forever.

Coughing awkwardly, Dipper pushed past the swingset, looking back to make sure Stan was following. They walked through the forest quietly, their awkward silence broken only by birds arguing in the trees overhead.

“Stan?”

“Yeah, kid?”

Dipper stole a glance at Grunkle Stan, biting his lip. “So what is... ‘this?’ I mean... I sort of get it, but, maybe it could help to know more? Did it start after—”

“No, no, it wasn’t the whole erasing thing,” Stan interrupted. “I mean, not exactly. I still don’t understand all of it, y’know? It’s all been coming kind of slow but...” he paused, lifting his glasses so he could rub his eyes, squinting at the sunlight shining through the trees. “Ever since it all ended last summer, my memories have been coming back fine. Except... there’s been these extra ones. Ones that aren’t mine. Memories of places I’ve never been and things I’ve never done. Except I have been those places. Dipper, I–I have done those things. Really, really bad things.” Stan paused, a spacey look in his eyes. He let out a long, tired breath, slumping down on a fallen log.

“The worst thing is, I keep getting this feeling. This feeling that it’s all familiar, that it’s always been there. Ever since finding out... I’ve felt more and more sure that it’s not just him inside me. It feels like he is me. Maybe he always has been.”

Dipper chewed his lip, holding his wrist. His face was hidden in the shadows when he looked away. “We’ll figure something out,” he said, his voice flat and weak.