HAT: Darn it, Gravity Falls! You've gotten to me... now for another family thing!

Disclaimer: I own nothing, but the plot.


Today is one of those days were Stan Pines is obligated to visit his family and put a pause on his plans. His step-niece had given birth to twins and so far they're not looking too well so his nephew begged him to come and at least see the twins before they could... He couldn't think that since he's never been sick enough to think of babies dying to be a good thing. He doesn't know if it would be mentally able to handle meeting the children only to have them ripped away from him.

He pulls his "Stanmobile" into the driveway and turns off the car. At first he contemplates turning it back on and driving home to stay away from whatever heartache he may face, but when he notices the curtains move he sighs and gets out of the car with the knowledge that he's been spotted by one of the occupants of the house.

Before he can knock the door opens to reveal a man much younger than himself with dark brown hair and- which he got from his grandmother- hazel eyes in jeans and a t-shirt which is a real downgrade from the older man's suit.

"Hey, uncle Stan," the man- James- says with a smile.

Stan grunts. "Hey. Where's the food?"

"Come in," grumbles the man sarcastically as he closes the door. "Margret and the babies are in the living room."

Fantastic, it's on the way to the kitchen.

Stan walks into the living room and sees a tired red haired woman with light brown eyes holding two bundles in her arms- one in a pink blanket and the other in a blue one. He glances at the door that leads into the kitchen and internally sighs in defeat. He has to meet the two rascals sooner or later.

"Hi, uncle Stan," the woman- Margret- says with a warm smile.

Said man can't help the small smile that tugs on his lips that always seems to happen when he's around her- he had help raise her even though she wasn't blood. "Hey, sweetheart. And who're these two little... bundles of... screaming poop sacks?"

He'd never been good at giving compliments or being a pleasant person to be around in general and he especially is not a person that's used to being around children (anymore since he'd spent the last two decades at least by himself and away from kids save for his employees). He can tell by her amused smile that she doesn't take offense and simply takes it as most of those that know him do which is in stride thankfully.

"Would you like to hold them? They've been really quiet so..."

He reaches forward and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "It's alright."

There's no way I can live down any soft moments with these two is there?

She shifts each baby and when both of them are in his arms (rather awkwardly since he's not used to holding children anymore) he looks down at them and finds that the baby boy has something on his forehead that resembles the big dipper.

"Hey, little dipper," he grunts. "Gonna grow up to be tough like your old great uncle Stan?"

Ugh, that sounds old, he thinks.

"We hadn't thought of calling him little dipper," his nephew says as he sits next to his wife.

Not the brightest, Stan thinks before focusing on the twins. They're so small and fragile. Normally he would feel his arms are the last place a child- especially a few weeks old- should be, but in this moment he feels that he's the only one capable of taking care of ten fully. He feels that his burly arms are what will keep them safe from whatever is killing them. He bounces them gently and begins to start pacing as he has a habit of doing now and again.

"C'mon, you two, we're gonna get you something to eat," he grunts, going to the kitchen and expertly opening the refrigerator with his foot and finding two bottles. He feeds them one at a time and burps them. Sadly the girl spits up on him. "Aw, f-"

"Don't you dare curse in front of my babies," Margret hisses.

"Fudge," he finishes as he takes off his jacket and places it in the sink.

He takes the twins and walks them around the house, cooing at them and being sure that they're well taken care of. The most surprising thing for his nephew and step-niece is when he changes their dirty diapers. He spends the rest of the day taking care of them and moves their cribs to the guest room after he calls the motel that he was planning on staying and cancels his reservation and doesn't even bother demanding his money back.

Alright, little ones, you're safe with me, he thinks as he settles into the bed.

Throughout the night he takes care of them and he awakens with jerks as most would when they hear crying babies, but they don't cry at all. They sit in silence, squirming uncomfortable when they want attention or food or changing and he immediately knows what they need before he even walks over the the crib.

This entire cycle happens for two days before their first cries since being home were made. Both parents come running to the room and find the old man bouncing the both of them in his arms with a broad smile that is rarely seen away from tourists.

"How'd you do it?" James demands.

Stan shrugs. "I dunno, I just did it. They've got strong lungs. No doubt they'll be strong when they grow up."

James smiles, glad to see his uncle's soft side every once in a while. "Thank you, uncle Stan... guess I won't be the only one calling you that, huh?"

Stan frowns and shakes his head. "No, that's for you- I only have one nephew so... I dunno, great uncle Stan is too long."

"How about... Greacle?"

"Ew," Stan shivers.

James grins. "Grunkle Stan."

Stan turns it over in his head and shrugs. "Yeah, I'll go with that... best be going before everyone thinks I'm dead, though. I'll see you kids when I see you," he cheerfully says as he hands the twins to theyr parents and ruffles his nephew's hair. "G'bye!"

For the next two years Stan would visit the twins and take care of them as he did the first time he met them, but then he stopped showing up and became a recluse again. After a long time James and Margret decided to discuss what to do about that.

"He's pushing us farther and farther away. He won't even see Mabel and Dipper," James says.

Margret adds, "He's working himself into the ground over that plan of his..."

James sighs. "Nothing's brought him out of that funk for all these years..."

"Except the twins... it's about to be summer vacation. How about we send them out with him for the summer? It'd be very beneficial for everyone. If we say that it's so that they won't see me fade away he'll do it in a heartbeat."

He looks at his wife sadly. She's lost quite a bit of her healthy glow and- underneath the makeup she wears- is paler than she ever ought to be. There's no need for either child to see their mother waste away into nothingness.

"I think you're right... it's settled, we're gonna send them to uncle Stan's."


HAT: Why do they always fall apart near the end? Anyway, I hope it was decent. I like to think Stan fell in love with the two when he first saw them and was immediately wrapped around their finger (especially Mabel's).

Soos: This is a very interesting perception of the inner workings of the Pines' family.

HAT: *rubs forehead* I'm not in the mood for deep thought today, Soos. Could you please say it?

Soos: Please review... and get me nachos.