"It's either my room or the attic, Kid."
Dipper can't stand his sister's sleepovers any longer, and goes off to find a new spot to sleep yet again. Until an idea strikes him, and he turns to his uncle. A little conversation is had, comfort is given, and Dipper is able to feel just a bit closer to Stan as a result. (Based during S1 E16 · Carpet Diem)
Fic link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49342357 Work under the cut. This fic is a little older! But I figured since I'm posting writing here too, it can also hang out here. :)
Dipper trotted down the rickety staircase, age making them complain under his feet. Once more, Mabel's insistent partying had driven him from the room they shared. Even now he could hear the deep voice of Grenda replying to their, (in his opinion) stupid boy game.
The voices faded as he came into the living room, old furniture seeming to be the most inviting at the moment. He plopped down, squishing his pillow until he gained a resemblance of comfort. He shifted, turning multiple times. The chair wasn't comfortable but it would do for tonight. "It's far better than that horrorshow of a room right now anyway," Dipper assured himself out loud, firmly shutting his eyes.
It wasn't far better, in the end of it. The fish tank's constant bubbling, the chair's strange lumps and old man smell from his Grunkle Stan, and the constant groan of old wood had him sitting up in eventual frustration. Nothing seemed to be working, and there wasn't anywhere else in the shack-
Unless. He went to his Grunkle Stan. Dipper made a face, already regretting that train of thought. What would he gain, really? But his exhausted mind led him down the tracks anyways.
His Grunkle Stan was a crass man, who seemed to harbor favoritism towards his sister. Indeed, over their feud for the newly found room, Mabel was leading by an intense amount of points. Simply for Mabel being who she was. Even still, maybe Stan would let him in, just for tonight. Heck, he could even blackmail his Grunkle. "Maybe he'd be proud of something I've done then.." Dipper mumbled, sitting up and making his decision. Pillow and blanket in tow, he walked up the stairs, nerves becoming more evident as he approached the door. It loomed over him, covered in signs that were to ward him and his sister off. His eyes trailed to the bottom sign. Dipper specifically it seemed as well, eyeing the sign that had his face crossed out with the caption "THAT MEANS YOU."
Sweat increased the slick feeling along his back more, and he gulped, before tentatively knocking upon the door, signs rattling and causing more noise. He waited, the only sounds present being the distant preteen girly squealing that reminded Dipper why he was there in the first place. Maybe his uncle had already gone to bed? Resigned to sleeping outside again, Dipper turned on his heels, when the door clicked.
He spun, looking up at the figure before him. The man leaned further into the hallway light, eyes squinting until they took in the boy. "Dipper? Why ya back up? I sent you to bed hours ago." The gruff voice of his uncle breaking him from his stupor. "W-well. Grunkle Stan. I was wondering if I could, um." He paused, suddenly feeling the weight of the idea. He was already preparing himself for the teasing no doubt coming, but something on his uncle's face spurred him forward.
"I was wondering if, I could. Sleep in your room tonight. Not the bed! Because Mabel and her friends are keeping me up, and I can't sleep in there. But I already tried the living room, and I don't want to sleep outside and get bit by a wolf again-"
"Woah! Woah, calm down kid. I can't understand a word you're sayin, you're rambling so fast." Stan interrupted, raising an eyebrow at his nephew. The boy trembled nervously, exhaustion and sweat becoming more prominent the longer he stood there. Fearing the scrutiny, Dipper just looked at his socked feet, nervously plucking at a spare thread of his blanket.
Stan sighed, opening the door wider, and stepping aside so the doorway was clear. "Run through that again will ya? What was that about.. what'd you say- a wolf?"
Dipper's eyes widened as he took in what was happening, and he hurried through the door into the darker room, pausing right inside so he didn't push his luck. "Uh- Well- I went to sleep outside last night, because I... Had no where else to go." He finished in a mumble, suddenly realizing how foolish it sounded.
Stan closed the door and plucked Dipper up by the scruff of his neck using his sleep shirt. Dipper let out a squawk, before he realized he was being plopped onto Stan's bed a few feet away. Before he could ask, Stan explained. "Didn't want ya trippin all over the place. I have the Floorplan memorized. Also uh, didn't want you messin up my thumb shwey. Or whatever."
Dipper raised an eyebrow, looking up at the undefined shadow of his uncle. "Grunkle Stan.. Do you mean Feng shui?" "That's what I said." Stan replied, sitting down on the mattress before flopping onto his back, making Dipper bounce slightly from the impact. "Right." Dipper mumbled, returning to pick at the thread. It was silent for a few moments, but Dipper knew Stan wasn't asleep. He wasn't snoring yet. Finally, it was broken again by his uncle.
"What are ya waitin for? An invite from The Pope?" Dipper started, glancing to the dark blob that was his uncle's body on the bed. "No! No. I just, was thinking about some stuff."
"Well. enough thinkin, I don't need to hear you knockin about in that skull of yours. Get to sleep." Dipper nodded, and went to lay his blanket down on the floor, hoping that he didn't settle down on something unpleasant. A hand gripped his arm gently, and he let out a startled yelp. "Wh! Grunkle Stan? What is it now?"
"Why are ya clutterin up my floor? Didn't I just tell you I had it organized the way I liked?" Dipper didn't know if he would call the mess organized in any sort, but he couldn't understand what Stan meant.
"But, Grunkle Stan.. Where will I sleep?"
A heavy sigh, as if the question wasn't unwarranted, Dipper thought mutely. "Kid, this bed is big enough. You're like, the size of, I dunno, a small dog. We both fit."
Dipper gulped, feeling anxious. "You, you're gonna let me sleep here? With you? Doesn't that. I don't know, gross you out, or something?" Stan let out a guffaw, sitting up on his elbow to look at the smaller shape of his nephew. "Dipper, stop bein ridiculous. You're not sleepin on the floor, or outside. You're gonna lie your butt down, and sleep, so I can sleep. And in the mornin, I'm lookin at that bite."
Dipper sputtered, before realizing what Stan said. "I thought you said you didn't know what I was talking about."
There was a pause, before Stan replied. "Arugh! Fine! Sleep outside or do whatever. Not like I care." and with that, he flopped back down, pulling the blanket up to his shoulders.
Dipper rolled his eyes, before grabbing his own blanket up from the floor. He hesitated, but tentatively laid down at the foot of the bed, trying very hard not to intrude on Stan's side. Eventually, he rolled over to face the wall, letting his eyes slip shut. Sleep refused to come, as he thought further about what his uncle had said. Finally, he sat up, just barely being able to see the rise and fall of Stan's chest. His thoughts ran rampant, not understanding what was transpiring. What was Stan planning? Was he going to wake up outside tied to the porch or something equally as wild? Everyone else would find that hilarious. It wasn't out of reason, Dipper thought.
"What'd I say about thinkin? I can hear it from here. Also, starin’s creepy, kid."
"Sorry, Grunkle Stan. I just, can't figure out what you're trying to do." He admitted truthfully, ignoring the way the sheets scratched against his skin, making him hyper aware of how he felt. "What I'm tryin to do is get your thick skull to bed. It ain't healthy for kids like you to be up this late. Why is that so hard to understand?"
"Because you're the- like.. Last person I'd expect to care about me being healthy. I mean, cmon Grunkle Stan. You let Mabel eat icecream for breakfast a week ago."
"That's irrelevant. I'm the adult, I know better. Why is it so hard for ya to understand that I'm tryin to take care of you?"
Dipper tucked his shoulders over his ears, shyly admitting, "Because I thought you didn't want to. Or that you cared really." The silence grew, and Dipper prepared himself for another insult. But all he got was a weary sounding sigh.
"Ah.. geez kid…" Even in the dark Dipper could see his uncle rubbing the back of his neck, a nervous tick if there ever was one. "Look.. Dipper. I know I'm not. Well. The best at anythin. Especially not the best caretaker ever. I know I'm rough on you two, and I know it seems like I don't care, but I…" His uncle trailed off, voice unusually quiet. "..course I do." And something that sounded suspiciously like "You're the only family I have left."
Dipper swallowed, wanting to believe the words, but feeling afraid to do so. His uncle was a liar. But yet, seeing Stan act so unlike his usual brash self gave Dipper pause. "D'you mean it?" Dipper quietly questioned, staring hard at the dark shapes that were his hands under the blanket.
Stan nodded, before quietly whispering back. "...Yeah kid. I do."
Dipper felt his eyes prickle, and his neck grow hot at the sudden burst of emotion within him. His anxieties and fears soothed by the balm of Stan's truth. He let out a shuddering breath, and managed a small "okay." in return.
There was another silence, before Stan lifted the corner of his own blanket, his arm staying raised. "Cmere, Kid."
And Dipper did. For once he went to his uncle without being on alert of ridicule, knowing he wasn't going to be judged for seeking comfort at this time. Especially not with Stan offering it so openly. He quickly shuffled under the blanket, and laid next to his uncle. He tried not to intrude in the space again, but that was quickly put to a stop as Stan lowered his arm and rested it behind Dipper's back, letting his arm be used as a pillow.
Dipper swallowed again, trying to curb his tears, lest he be told to man up. But he threw it to the wind in a sudden motion, quickly turning to his uncle and burying his face into his chest. His breath left in quick little gasps as tears finally came forth.
"Hey, hey.. Don't cry Dipper, its- it's alright." Stan murmured, trying to seem comforting but not knowing quite how, due to inexperience. Dipper shook his head, his hands moving to grab the grubby sleep shirt of his uncle's. All Stan could make out was "Thought you hated me" in between hiccuping sobs, and his heart shattered.
"Oh, kid.. I don't hate you. I could never hate ya. Never." Stan assured him, pulling Dipper closer to him, and wrapping his arms around the boy, hugging gently.
Eventually, the sobs faded into quiet sniffles, as Dipper leaned slightly up, face blotchy and wet from his tears. He was spent emotionally, and limply flopped back down, trying to ease his breathing.
Stan sighed, tucking the blanket around Dipper, while wiping his cheeks with a thumb. Dipper cringed slightly at the rough thumbpad, worn from years of age and work, but eventually leaned into the touch, seeking the warmth and comfort he desperately wanted.
"Alright kid. No more yappin. We can talk in the mornin. Goodnight." Stan told him, once more tucking the blanket in close, trying to soothe Dipper.
Dipper yawned, and snuggled his head against his uncle's chest, cheek resting against the familiar fabric. He wound his arms around his uncle, and in turn, Stan laid an arm over Dipper's back. Dipper let out a small hum of contentment, the weight and warmth reassuring to him. He let his eyes slip shut as he focused on Stan's heartbeat, and the constant slow rise of breath beneath him.
Sleep claimed him quickly, and Stan sighed, looking up at the ceiling in the dark. He told himself then, that he'd try harder to let himself love these kids.
Until then, a sleepover was a good start as any.
