A/N: Okay, so I absolutely love the idea of 'relativity falls' stories, where basically the ages of the children and adults in the show are switched. I'm just kinda picky about the stories in this AU that I'll read, because I don't want them to be just rewritten versions of the show. I want to read about completely unique situations, so that's what I decided to write here. I have multiple short stories idea for this setting, and just really wanted to start with this one.

So, yeah, I don't own Gravity Falls or the idea of Relativity Falls, I'm just writing my version of an already existing cool idea. So please, sit back, and I hope you enjoy.

Stan stood at the shores of Lake Gravity Falls, his hands on his hips and a smile on his face. The waters of the lake washed up on the shore and hit his bare feet. Back in New Jersey he never would have even thought about running around the beach without at least wearing sandals. He may not be smart like his brother, but even Stan knew that it wasn't a good idea to walk around at a place called 'Glass Shard Beach' without some sort of protection for your feet.

But the lake at Gravity Falls was a lot different than the beaches back home. Here, there were actually other people around. He could swim in the waters without worrying about all the pollution. The sands were soft and squishy instead of stabby and sharp. And, best of all, Lake Gravity Falls had the Stan O' War.

He and his brother had stumbled on the old sailboat by complete accident. Their Grauntie Mabel had just brought them to the lake for a fun day at the beach the day before, and while they were exploring with their Grunkle Dipper they had found an old cave with the boat in it. Both the cave and the ship looked like they hadn't been used in years, and both Stan and Ford immediately decided that since it looked like the ship wasn't anybody else's, they should claim it for themselves, and they had.

It definitely wasn't a seaworthy vessel, or even lakeworthy, but Stan was excited by it anyways. They had their own boat! What wasn't there to be excited about? Even Ford, who wasn't as much a fan of the ocean, or lake, or even water in general, as Stan was was excited. Nerd that he was, Ford wanted to sail to Scuttlebutt Island and look for sea monsters.

Stanley just wanted to have sailing adventures with his brother...and maybe also find buried treasure...Oh, and babes!

It wasn't like they could just sail off into the sunset right away though. The ship was barely holding itself together, and both Dipper and Mabel needed to approve of it before it even touched the water. Stan and Ford had a lot of work to do, and they were both looking forward to it.

...at least, Stan thought they were.

The twelve year old looked around the beach with a small frown. His brother was nowhere in sight. Where the heck was he? Stan knew that Ford had wanted to go to the library to get some books on how to fix a boat like this. So, that was where Ford had gone, but where was he now? Even a nerd like him couldn't take this long at a stupid library, could he?

Nah, actually, he probably could.

Stan sighed, his shoulders drooping slightly in disappointment. He had thought that Ford was as excited about this as he was. Obviously not, if he had let himself get distracted by some stupid book. Stan shook his head and tried to push back his disappointment. He knew that Ford hadn't forgotten about him, he had probably just found a cool book and lost track of time...yeah, that was it.

Once Stan had convinced himself that he was just worrying about nothing and Ford was just being a little bit more of a nerd than usual, he decided to get to work. Stan may not know a lot about how to fix a ship, but there were some small things that even he could figure out without some dumb book telling him what to do.

Stan pulled himself onto the deck of the small ship and reached for the small tool bag that had been left there from what little work they had done the day before. Stan picked up an old hammer that was just slightly too large and heavy for him to feel comfortable holding, but he dealt with it. Hammer in hand Stan glanced around the boat to find rusted, bent, or broken nails that would have to be taken out and replaced.

Just like Dipper had shown them how to do yesterday.

It didn't take long for Stan to find some old nails. In fact, most of the nails holding the Stan O'War together were rusted and warped. And, like Dipper and Ford had reminded him numerous times when they had worked on the ship the day before, when in doubt, throw it out...well, maybe not throw them out. Stan thought that some of these nails looked pretty cool, and he was definitely thinking of keeping them a bunch of them for a collection or something.

After pulling out nails, (and the occasional board when he pulled too hard and the wood just snapped) for almost two hours Stan finally started to think he was making progress at it. He had two large piles of niles, one for those he was going to toss out, and one for those he wanted to keep. Stan had to actually search to find any belt nails that were sticking out.

The twelve year old figured that what he had done would be good enough for now, because he was getting really tired of looking for nails. He didn't want to stop working on the ship, but he didn't know what else to do, and Ford still hadn't come. Maybe the nerd had just spent so long at the library and checked out so many books that he had decided that it would be better to just return to the shack than go to the beach.

Stan was thinking of doing the same. It was getting really hot outside, and Stan was sure that he was badly sunburned, because he hadn't remembered to bring any sunscreen…'or sandpaper', Stan thought with a wince when he felt all the splinters in his hands. It was like the boat was made of splinters and broken nails and nothing else.

Stan didn't really mind splinters all that much, he actually thought that they were kinda cool, but Ford hated them. He was always super hesitant to even touch a piece of wood that even had the possibility of being splintery.

(maybe that was why Ford hadn't shown up that day).

Stan made a mental list of the things that he would be bringing for tomorrow, sunscreen and sandpaper. He put the hammer back in the tool bag, as well as the nails that he wanted to keep. He shouldered the bag and jumped ungracefully off the ship, landing face first in the sand. It hurt a little bit, but he didn't cry out in pain. Stan just laughed and spit the sand out of his mouth. He quickly got to his feet and began the walk back to the shack.

It was a fairly long walk back to the shack, but Stan wasn't really all that bothered by it. It was always fun to pass by and talk to the folks in town (except for Preston Northwest and Bud Gleeful. Stan hated those guys). The woods were also kinda cool to walk in. Stan always got the feeling that something was watching him in those woods, sometimes he felt in danger, sometimes he just felt like he was being observed. It was kinda freaky, but kinda cool at the same time.

The sun was really beating down on Stan as he walked. He didn't mind it all that much as he went, but the second he got back to the shack with it's air conditioning did he he realize just how hot and tired he was. Stan made a dash for the fridge to grab a Pitt Cola. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Ford sitting at the table, drawing on some graph paper or something.

Stan grinned and punched his brother's arm, surprising him. "Hey, nerd, didn't see you at the lake today."

"Oh, hey, Stanley." Ford said, his voice cracking ever so slightly on that last word, which only happened when he was either upset or hiding something. "I'm so sorry. I got caught up at the library and just lost track of time and…"

"Hey, calm down, Sixer." Stan laughed. "I ain't mad at you." That was probably why Ford looked nervous. He had probably been worried that Stan was going to get mad at him. Stan wouldn't get mad at his brother for something like this though. Sure, it kinda hurt that Ford had pretty much ditched him for his nerd books, but it was just a one time thing. It wasn't like this was going to become a regular thing...right?

"So, uh, you got a lot of books." Stan commented, because the table was absolutely full of them. With all the paper and books that Ford had in front of him Stan would think that he was working on his summer homework if it weren't for the fact that he knew that he had finished it the first week of summer. "Anything good about boats?"

A light blush came to Ford's cheeks. "Well, no." Ford looked at the table. "I kinda...forgot them."

"Forgot them?" Stan was just confused by that. How could somebody forget to bring back the books they had gone to the library for in the first place.

"It's okay though." Ford said quickly. "I'll go back to the library tomorrow and get them." Ford sounded really excited to be returning to the library. Stan figured that there must be some pretty good nerd books there.

"Yeah, okay." Stan shrugged and went to the fridge to get a soda. He didn't think much else of the whole thing, because he didn't think there was anything else to it. So what if Ford had gotten caught up doing his own thing? Tomorrow things would be back to normal. Ford would get the boat books and they would work on the Stan O' War together, just like they were supposed to.

The next morning Ford waited anxiously around the shack until it was late enough for the library to be open. He carefully crammed the graph papers he had so carefully been working on the day before in his bag, along with a couple of thirty eight sided dice. He said a quick farewell to his great aunt and uncle, and he was off towards the town.

Stan had left about an hour before to go to the lake. Ford had assured him before he left that he would join him in a bit. Stan didn't look like he had quite believed him, and Ford didn't blame him after what had happened yesterday. Ford really hadn't meant to just ditch Stan like that, he had just gotten caught up with other things. Today though Ford swore it would be different. He would just stay at the library for an hour or two, and then he would join his brother.

And this time Ford would remember to get those boat books.

The first thing Ford did when he got to the library was find the boat books that Stan wanted him to get. He had meant to get them yesterday, but Ford always got excited and easily distracted whenever he first entered a library that he had never been to before, no matter how big or small it was. He wanted to know where everything was, and just how much of a variety they had, so Ford explored. He completely forgot about the books for a bit, and by the time he remembered he had gotten caught up in something else.

Not this time though. No, Ford made sure to get the books that he was sure they would need for the Stan O' War. There weren't all that many options, The library in Gravity Falls was a rather small one, but Ford was able to find two or three books that he was sure could be helpful in one way or another.

He was just about to go and check the books out when he heard the quiet strummings of a banjo. Ford grinned and made his way towards the sound. He would check out the books later. He weaved through bookshelves and books that were carelessly left on the floor until he got to the reading corner of the library. And there, sitting on one of the chairs and strumming a banjo was Fiddleford Mcgucket.

Ford smiled broadly and sat next to his friend. Fiddleford was a year or two older than Ford was, and they had only met the day before, but Ford already knew that he was the best (and only) friend that he had ever had that wasn't his brother.

"Stanford, I was beginning to think you weren't going to show." Fiddleford said in a slightly teasing tone. Ford laughed slightly and shoved Fiddleford a little bit, who chuckled and shoved right back.

"Come on, we both know you just got here." Ford said.

"Yeah, but I got here, to the table, first." Fiddleford pointed out. He set his banjo to the side. "So, we pickin' up where we left off yesterday?"

"Absolutely." Ford placed the books he had grabbed on the floor and dumped the contents of his bag on the table. He saw Fiddleford pick up one of his thirty eight sided die. "So, where we left off yesterday…" And just like that the boys found themselves drawn into the world of Dungeons, Dungeons & More Dungeons.

It was Ford's favorite game in the world, but he didn't get to play it very often. It wasn't the kind of game that one could play by himself, but the only person that Ford felt comfortable enough around to play this game with at home was Stan, and his brother hated this game. Or, more accurately, he whined very passionately about the game simply because he didn't fully understand it.

Ford's love for the game had caused him to become interested in a rare guidebook that he had found at the library yesterday. Ford had been amazed to find it, and he had immediately started reading it. Fiddleford, who had been at the library looking for inspiration for his latest 'doohickey' (robot), had seen what Ford was reading and had struck up a conversation about the game that they both enjoyed. One thing led to another and soon the two of them had started playing the game with the library's copy.

It was only supposed to be a short game, but it lasted for quite a while, and they didn't even finish it. After a few hours Fiddleford said that he needed to get home for dinner and they agreed to continue their game the next day.

It had been so long since Ford had had somebody around that he could actually play Dungeons, Dungeons & More Dungeons with. He was glad for the playing partner, but Ford had forgotten that the game really wasn't one that could be played in a short period of time. Most games were hours long, usually throughout multiple days and playing sessions. Basically, it wasn't a game that one should play if they have already made plans for the day, and Ford had.

He convinced himself that it wasn't that big of a deal. He and Stan could work on the Stan O' War any time this summer. And surely Stan would understand that Ford just wanted to spend some time with his new friend. Stan would forgive him for ditching him...right?

Honestly, Ford wasn't so sure, but he really didn't want to leave the game. All he needed was an hour or two of Dungeons, Dungeons & More Dungeons and he would join Stan at their boat. He would make it up to his brother later, but right then Ford just wanted some him time.

Unfortunately, something else that Ford forgot about his favorite game was that it was really addictive. A couple of hours of gameplay felt like they took just five minutes. So his plan to spend just a few hours with Fiddleford at the library didn't go so well. One minute it was half past nine in the morning and they were setting up the game. The next, when Ford just happened to glance at the clock, it was almost three in the afternoon. They had been there for almost six hours.

"Aw man." Ford frowned in disappointment, both because he knew that he would have to stop his game for now, and because he had gone and let himself get carried away when he had promised himself that he wouldn't let Stan down again. "I gotta go home."

Fiddleford looked up at the clock and his eyes widened. "Sweet sarsaparilla, is it really that late?" Fiddleford seemed about as alarmed as Ford was about the time. "I should get goin' too. Same time tomorrow?"

"Uh…" Ford thought carefully as he put his things back in his bag. He didn't want to leave Stan hanging again, but the game was just getting intense. They were just about to enter Probabilitor's castle. "Yeah, sounds good." Ford figured he could come by the library, play for just an hour, he would even set an alarm and everything, before helping Stan out at the lake.

Everything would be fine. Everybody would be happy.

Ford slung his bag over his shoulders and hurried off. He ran down the streets of Gravity Falls, right towards the lake. The summer sun was beating down on him, and Ford already felt sweltering hot. He couldn't decide whether he wanted to see Stan still waiting for him at the Stan O' War, or for his brother to have gone home before something happened to him from spending too much time in the hot sun.

Ford arrived at the beach and immediately went to the Stan O' War. He felt his heart sink when he saw that there was nothing aboard the ship except a few cans of Pit Cola, some used up sandpaper and some rusty old nails. Stan had already started working on the ship, and he had already left for the day.

Ford had missed him.

The boy sighed and slowly started walking home. Stan was probably so upset and angry. Ford expected to be punched in the face when he got home, or given the silent treatment. And he knew that he would completely deserve it. The worst part was, Ford wasn't completely sorry for what he had done. He hadn't meant to ditch Stan, he had just wanted to do something that he wanted to do with somebody who was willing to be around him, even without familial obligations.

Maybe Stan would understand more if he would just find a friend in Gravity Falls for himself.

They had been staying in the small town in Oregon with their great aunt and uncle for nearly two weeks, and until yesterday neither of the boys had even attempted to make any friends. Both of them were so used to being social outcasts that they didn't know the first thing about being around other kids their age in a friendly kind of way.

The closest things Stan had to making friends in this town were his rivalries with Preston Northwest and Bud Gleeful, and Ford really doubted those counted as friendships.

Ford thought about things as he walked home. He knew why he had a hard time making friends, but why would Stan? Nobody around here knew or cared that he wasn't as smart as Ford was. Nobody in town seemed to hate Ford for his freakish hands (yet), so Stan wasn't hated by association. He had an outgoing personality, and he was fun to be around, even if he could get a little too rough and intense sometimes.

Just why hadn't Stan made any friends?

Ford considered this question during the entire walk home. He was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he didn't even notice that he had arrived at the shack and walked through the front door. It was only when he heard his brother talking to him did Ford realize that he was home.

"Oh, look who finally decided to show up." Stan said, but he didn't sound angry, more like he was just teasing. Ford gulped. This had been the reaction that he had been most afraid of. When Stan got really upset or angry he had the horrible habit of just waving things off and pretending that he was perfectly fine when that couldn't be further from the truth.

Ford hated it when Stan did this, because it made it much easier to just pretend that he wasn't aware that something was wrong. Stan wouldn't say anything. Ford wouldn't do anything. Both of them would just let their emotions fester until one of them (usually Stan) exploded.

"Sorry, I got caught up." Ford wasn't really sure why he wasn't telling Stan what had been holding him up. Maybe he didn't want to be teased for playing such a nerdy game. Maybe he didn't want to make Stan feel left out and jealous because he was spending time with somebody else for a change. "I saw the Stan O' War. It's already looking better."

Stan's chest puffed up with pride. "Yeah, It'll be seaworthy in no time." He boasted. Stan slumped ever so slightly and he looked sheepishly at Ford. "But, uh, I'm not really sure what to do now. Have those books got any suggestions?"

Ford froze. The books! He had completely forgotten them...again!

Stan's face fell when he saw Ford's slightly panicked expression. "You forgot them again? Geeze, Ford, what are you doing at that library of yours?"

"Nothing." Ford said much too quickly and a little too loudly. Stan's eyes widened in shock, and quickly narrowed in suspicion. Ford began to sweat. "But, uh, I know exactly where they are. I'll grab your books in the morning when I-"

"My books?" Stan interrupted with a frown. "You mean our books, for our ship. This...this is our thing...Isn't it?" Stan lowered his head and looked at the ground. "I thought you wanted to do this."

"I do!" Ford assured him sincerely. "I just got distracted. I swear, it's not going to happen again. Stan didn't really look like he fully believed Ford, but he nodded his head anyways and the two of them went back to pretending that nothing was wrong.

Stan hated irony, and he wanted to kill it with fire.

The next day wasn't as sunny as it had been before. The sky was overcast with clouds. It didn't really look like it was going to rain though, so Stan and Ford still made plans to work on the Stan O' War together. Ford had left pretty early to go to the library to get their books and do his nerd thing, but he swore that he would meet Stan at Lake Gravity Falls in an hour. He even showed Stan that he was setting an alarm on his watch and everything.

Stan was actually smiling when he watched his brother leave. Ford wasn't just abandoning him today. They were going to meet up at their ship and things would go back to normal. Everything was fine.

Stan hung around the shack for a bit, grabbing any odd or end that he could find that could potentially be useful for the work he and his brother were going to do on the ship. Stan grinned to himself. He was so excited to finally be able to work on the Stan O' War with Ford. The past two days had been okay, and it wasn't that Stan hadn't enjoyed working on the ship, but he knew that it would be a million times better with Ford there too. It was going to be so cool.

Stan was soon ready to head back to the lake, but just as he was about to walk out the front door he was pulled back.

"Now hang on, little man." Stan's Grauntie Mabel said. "There's a storm coming. You can't go to the lake in this weather."

Stan looked out the window and whined. It really was starting to rain. "I won't be there for very long." He tried to say.

"Nope, you're not going." Mabel pulled Stan inside and closed the door.

"But me and Ford were going to work on the Stan O' War." Stan pleaded. He knew that his grauntie was perfectly aware of how Stan felt about Ford ditching him. She had to understand how important working on the boat with Ford was to Stan.

Mabel's expression was kind and sympathetic, it always was. "I'm sure we can find something here for you to do for you boat."

Stan scowled and crossed his arms. "Like what?" He didn't think that there was any work they could do on a boat without actually being at the boat.

Mabel grinned. "Well, a sailboat needs a sail, doesn't it?"

"Uh…" Stan thought on that for a second. He realized that the old woman had a point. They would need a sail, and Mabel, who was a master of fabrics and crafts, was just the person to help him do this. Besides, Ford was a smart guy. He would probably see that it was raining outside and figure out that Stan wasn't at the lake. Once his hour at the library was up Ford would come back to the shack and they would do stuff there, simple as that.

"Yeah, okay." Stan agreed. He took his gruantie's hand and let her pull him into the tv room. Stan pushed aside the furniture while Mabel went looking for some fabric that they could work with. The two of them spent the next two hours working on a sail for the Stan O' War. It was pretty fun, and Stan always enjoyed spending time with his grauntie like this, but he wasn't completely happy because with every glance at the clock Stan was just reminded that Ford wasn't there, and by that time he should have been.

Eventually Stan spent so much time looking up at the clock and scowling that he wasn't getting any work done. It was at this point that Mabel decided that it would be for the best that they take a break for the moment. She went to go work on some stuff on 'her' half of the shack (the tourist trap had two parts, an interactive art museum, and the 'mystery shack', which held magical artifacts and evidence of monsters in the forest. Two guesses on who was in charge of what part of the shack).

Stan curled up on the chair in the television room and just watched the clock. It wasn't like he had anything better to do. He couldn't go out into the rain, because Stan always got sick after being out in a storm, and being sick during summer was the worst. He had already explored every inch of the shack, and even if he hadn't playing explorers wasn't any fun by yourself. He would need somebody to play with him.

He would need Ford...and Ford wasn't around.

Stan sighed and curled his legs up to his chest. What the heck was so important that Ford was always running off to the dumb library? Sure, maybe he was just excited about finding something to do in this small town, Stan knew that he would be pretty excited to find anything to do, but that was what the Stan O' War was for. They were supposed to be finding something to do together.

Maybe Stan just cared more about the 'together' part than Ford did. Neither of them really had many (any) friends back at home, but Stan thought that he was the only one bothered by it. Ford got upset that the other kids teased him, but he seemed to be perfectly fine with them not including him in their games and stuff.

Stan was the one who wanted to have friends, he just didn't know how to make any, and whenever he tried it just ended up blowing up in his face. The only friend Stan had was Ford, and they stuck together like glue. Or, at least, they would if Ford would quit running off on him.

Sometimes Stan wondered if Ford really wanted to be around him at all, or if he was just indulging Stanley. He really didn't know what to think.

The sound of the door opening and slamming shut told Stan that Ford had finally come home. He was so tired of Ford not being around that Stan didn't even bother to hide his irritation. The first thing Ford saw when he walked past the tv room was Stan glaring at him. Ford stopped and sighed.

"Where were you?" Stan asked. He winced slightly when he realized just how much he sounded like their father. "You said you would come back after an hour."

"I...Stan, it was raining." Ford said, as if that was a viable excuse. "I knew you wouldn't be at the lake, so I just decided to stay at the library for a little longer." Ford said this like it should make Stan feel better. Like he would actually be okay with this explanation.

He wasn't.

"So why didn't you come back here?" Stan asked. "You know better than I do that there's lot's of stuff we can do for the ship at the shack."

"Well, yes…" Ford admitted with a slight blush. "I just didn't know that that was the plan. If you wanted me to come back earlier, you should have said something."

Stan felt his own cheeks turn red from anger. He clenched his fists. Was Ford seriously saying that this was Stan's fault? Typical. "I didn't think I would have to." Stan defended himself. "You're the smart one. I thought you would have been able to figure it out for yourself."

Ford sighed. "Look, I'm sorry, okay?" Ford placed his bag on the ground and started searching through it. After a moment he brought out some books, the ones he was supposed to bring back in the first place. Ford opened one of the books and turned it towards Stan, who didn't move from his seat. "We can still do this though. We can-"

"Forget it." Stan growled as he got to his feet. He pushed his way past Stan and went upstairs. "I'm going to bed."

"What? It's the middle of the afternoon." Ford pointed out.

"I don't care." Stan continued his way up.

"S-Stanley?" Ford's voice was quiet and he sounded worried. Stan was tempted to turn around and immediately forgive his brother, but he didn't. These past three days had made it clear that Ford put whatever he was doing at the library ahead of Stan. He probably only hung out with Stan at all when there was nothing better for him to do, and Stan was not willing to let himself be Ford's clock on the wall.

Stan went up to the attic and curled up on his bed. He listened carefully, but he didn't hear Ford come up at all. He should have expected that, what, with the way that Stan was just the second fiddle lying around for Ford to play, or however that saying went. The point was, Ford thought that there were better things out there that deserved his time and attention more than Stan did.

Part of Stan had always known this, but it still hurt.

Ford really didn't know what he was going to do with Stan. It had been really alarming for Ford when Stan had gone up the the attic in the middle of the afternoon and refused to come out. Ford hated that Stanley was apparently so upset/mad at him that he would rather mope around by himself than have a late start on the ship together.

Things weren't much better the next day. Stan had barricaded the door up in the attic and Ford was forced to sleep downstairs on the chair. It wasn't the most comfortable experience, and Ford woke up tired and sore. His discomfort caused Ford to be very irritated with Stanley, who was just overreacting and making a big deal out of nothing.

Ford was absolutely annoyed with Stan, but that didn't stop him from being concerned when he saw that Stan wasn't awake yet. Stan was usually the earliest of early risers, but he was still up in the attic, either sleeping or avoiding Ford. The worst part was that Ford still wasn't entirely sure what Stan was so upset about in the first place.

Ford hung around the shack for a bit, waiting for Stan to come downstairs, but he didn't. Even by late morning Stan still hadn't come downstairs, and things were getting ridiculous. Ford didn't want to wait around all day to have a talk with his brother that neither of them really wanted to have.

Ford knew that Stan would have to come down eventually, but he really didn't want to wait around until that happened. Ford sighed and grabbed his backpack. Hanging around the shack and waiting for Stan to stop throwing a temper tantrum just left a sour taste in Ford's mouth. He just wanted to go to the library, play Dungeons, Dungeons & More Dungeons with Fiddleford, and that was exactly what he was going to do.

He would just talk to Stan later...or, more likely, they would ignore each other until they both calmed down enough to pretend that there hadn't been a problem in the first place.

Ford made his way to the library. He felt kinda guilty about going when he knew that playing this game had something to do with why Stan was so upset with him, but it wasn't as though waiting around the shack was doing any good. And it really wasn't fair for Ford to stop doing something he enjoyed just because Stanley didn't like it.

Fiddleford was already at the library waiting for him. He was strumming his banjo, and not for the first time Ford wondered just what kind of library this was that they allowed banjo playing and games that took up a lot of space and was hours long.

"Oh, Stanford, I was starting to think you weren't going to show up." Fiddleford said. He frowned slightly when he saw Ford's serious expression. "What's wrong with you?"

Ford sighed and started unpacking the game supplies from his bag. "Stan's mad at me, and I still don't really get why."

"Stan?" Fiddleford frowned slightly in confusion. After a moment his eyes widened in realization. "Oh, you mean your brother?" Ford had told Fiddleford a thing or two about his family.

"Yeah, Stanley." Ford sat down on the chair next to his friend. "He even started avoiding me, and I...I just don't get it."

Fiddleford frowned sympathetically. "Do you know if you did something to upset him."

Ford sighed again. He knew he had, he just didn't see how it was a big deal. "We found an old ship a few days ago and Stan was really excited to fix it up, but I haven't really been helping out as much as he wanted me to."

"Because we were playing." Fiddleford realized.

"I just completely lost track of time." Ford said. "And I know that Stan would get annoyed by that, but not this much. I mean, it's just a boat, we have all summer to work on it."

Fiddleford played a few quiet notes on his banjo and thought for a moment. "...I don't think it's about the ship."

"What?" Ford frowned. "What else would it be about?"

Fiddleford played a few more notes. "Nobody likes to be ignored, Stanford."

"W-what?" Ford was actually slightly offended by that. "Stan's the one who is ignoring me."

"Because you did it first." Fiddleford pointed out. "It sounds like Stan was excited to work on this boat with you, but you keep on putting it off to play a game."

"So what?" Ford asked. "My entire life doesn't have to revolve around Stanley, does it?"

"Of course not." Fiddleford said. "I'm just sayin' that your brother probably just wants to spend time with you."

"We do spend time together." Ford said. "We're always around each other."

"There's a difference between living in the same house as somebody and actually paying attention to them." Fiddleford said, and it sounded like there was a huge difference that actually meant a lot to him, and Ford didn't really understand why.

He hated not understanding things.

"I still don't get it." Ford admitted after a moment. Fiddleford sighed and shook his head.

"No, I didn't think you would." He sounded really disappointed about it too. "We don't have to talk about this now. We could just play our game."

"That would be nice." Ford said with a small smile. He could use a distraction from these stupid emotional things that he didn't understand. Ford and Fiddleford began playing their game, but it soon became clear that neither of them were truly invested in it. They were both too distracted by the things they were trying to be distracted from. It was just fortunate that the game was going very tamely at this time, because they would be completely destroyed if they had to fight a difficult boss rather than a couple of henchmen.

The two of them played the game halfheartedly for about an hour. They amused themselves with casual conversation as they played. It wasn't an epic round of adventure gaming, and not a ton of strategy was involved, but Ford still found that he was enjoying himself. He hadn't realized how nice it felt to be in good company.

Of course, because good things never seem to last, their peaceful gaming session was interrupted by a loud exclamation from a voice that Ford had never expected to hear in a library.

"What the heck?!" Ford and Fiddleford both jumped at the shout. They turned to see Stanley staring at them with wide, disbelieving eyes. His shock wore off in about two seconds and quickly turned to anger. "This is what you've been ditching me for? Some stupid nerd game with some stupid nerd?"

"His name is Fiddleford, and he's not stupid." Ford said defensively. "He's my best friend."

"W-what?" Stan's eyes widened with shock and hurt. "Your best friend? But...but we're-" Stan shook his head and his eyes darkened till he was glaring harshly at Ford. Stan was really angry now, and Ford was even more in the dark than before.

Fiddleford seemed to be uncomfortable with the tension, and tried to take it upon himself to calm things. "Uh, hey, why don't we all just sit down and talk about this like civilized folk?" Fiddleford stood up and approached Stanley. He held a friendly hand out to the angry boy. "You want to join us, Stanley?"

Stan stared at Fiddleford for a moment. It was only then did Ford notice that Stan seemed to be shaking and was seconds away from completely losing it. Ford was about to warn Fiddleford, but he got distracted when he noticed what looked like tears in Stan's eyes. Ford was taken aback. Was his brother actually crying? Why?

Fiddleford also seemed to notice that Stan was upset. His expression became concerned and he took another step towards Ford's brother. "Stanley, are you okay?"

Stan reacted without thinking, which was normal for him. Stan gave a shout of frustration and pushed Fiddleford away from him. The older boy lost his balance and fell against the table, which knocked it over and caused their dice and graph paper to fall to the ground, ruining their game.

"What the heck? Stanley!" Ford helped Fiddleford to his feet and glared at his brother, who glared back. "Look at what you just did, you Knucklehead. You always ruin everything!"

Stan glared harshly at his twin. He quickly bent down and picked up a thirty eight sided die. Stan yelled out in anger again and threw it at the wall, hard. Stan then stormed off, kicking over stacks of books as he went. Ford groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. Stanley was absolutely out of control, and Ford had no idea what his problem was.

"Well, you could have handled that better." Fiddleford's said, and he sounded kinda disappointed.

"Me?" Ford looked at his friend in shock. "What the heck did I do?"

"I really shouldn't have to explain it to you." FIddleford said, and he sounded completely unimpressed, like this whole thing was Ford's fault. How come whenever the twins got in a fight, it was always Ford's fault just because Stanley didn't know how to control his emotions?

Ford told himself that this was all Stan's fault, but that did nothing to keep him from feeling guilty anyways. He hated it when Stanley got upset, but there wasn't really anything he could do about it. Ford's twin seemed to get angry or upset about everything these days, and it wasn't Ford's responsibility to keep Stan calm all the time.

Stan just needed to learn how to deal with things on his own...without throwing people against a table.

Stan ran out of the library and into the streets. He was lucky that the roads of Gravity Falls were never very busy, because he really wasn't watching where he was going. Stan was too busy squeezing his eyes shut tight to keep himself from crying to worry about avoiding cars or anything like that.

Stupid Ford for being such a jerk. Stupid Fiddlenerd for stealing Stan's brother from him. Stupid Stan for just being so stupid, stupid, stupid!

Stan stopped where he was and sniffled. He was such an idiot. Ford was a brilliant nerd who liked nerdy things. Of course he would rather spend time with other nerds who liked to play the same nerdy game as he did. Of course Ford would rather be around people like him instead of people like Stan. It just made sense.

...So why did it hurt so much?

"Hey, watch out." A muffled voice shouted. Stan opened his eyes in alarm and looked up just in time to see a motorcycle zooming right towards him. Stan cried out in alarm and instinctively jumped to the side to avoid getting hit just as the motorcycle swerved to the other side to avoid hitting him.

Both Stan and the motorcycle rider fell harshly to the ground. In his rush to not get killed Stan had jumped away awkwardly and landed on his ankle in a weird way.

"Ow." Stan clutched at his ankle. The pain made it impossible for him to hold in the tears that had already been in his eyes. His elbow, palm, and knee were also pretty scraped up, and it seriously hurt.

"Shit." The motorcyclist pushed himself to his feet. He didn't seem as injured by the fall as Stan was. There didn't even seem to be a scratch on him, which just wasn't fair. The guy quickly made his way to Stan. "Shit, kid, you okay?" He held a hand out to help Stan to his feet, but the boy didn't take it.

Stan was just so sick and tired of being hurt all the time. He took it from his family. He took it from the jerks at school. But there was no way he was just going to roll over and take it from a completely stranger who should have been watching where he was going.

Stan got to his feet by himself and winced at the pain in his ankle. He didn't worry about the pain though. He was too busy getting ready to teach this jerk in front of him a lesson.

Nobody (or, at least no random jerks) hurt Stan Pines and got away with it.

Stan balled his hand into tight fist and punched the guy right in the chest. He would have gone for the face, except the guy was wearing a helmet (and he was too tall for Stan to even reach his face).

"What the heck, man?!" Stan shouted. "You almost killed me."

The motorcyclist stared at him for a minute before he let out a low chuckle. "Yeah, sorry about that, kitten."

"W-what?" Stan was not expecting that. Was this really tough looking guy really letting a twelve year old get away with punching him. Also, what the heck had he just called him?

"Kitten." The man repeated. "You know, 'cause you're small and cute, but definitely got some bite in you."

Stan's face went red. He didn't like it when Grauntie Mabel called him cute, and he liked it even less from a total stranger.

"You're not too hurt though, are you?" The man asked.

"No." Stan muttered as he rubbed at his sore elbow.

"You sure?" The man didn't look convinced. "You're kinda crying, kid."

Stan quickly wiped away the stupid tears that he had not given permission to fall. "Not because of you" Stan said. "My nerdy brother was just being a massive jerk."

The man nodded understandingly. "Yeah, I get that." At that moment Stan decided that he liked this stranger. Nobody else seemed to understand how hard it was to have an insensitive genius for a brother. "But you're not hurt, right?"

"Right." Stan said. The man shook his head and gave Stan a little push. It was just enough for him to try to put pressure on his hurt ankle to keep himself from falling. That small amount of pressure sent a fresh new wave of pain through his foot. Stan cried out. His leg buckled beneath him and Stan would have fallen over if the man hadn't been right there to catch him.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." The man made Stan sit down on the ground and looked at his ankle. "It doesn't look too serious, but you're definitely not walking on that thing. I can give you a ride home if you want."

"I don't really want to go home right now." Stan said, thinking about how Mabel would react to see him all scraped up, and how Dipper would react to see him brought back by a man on a motorcycle. Besides, Ford might be heading back to the shack soon, and Stan really didn't want to see him.

"Alright, how 'bout this." The man stood up and helped Stan to his feet. "You had lunch yet?"

"Nope." Stan said.

"Well, there's a diner not far from here. How 'bout we go get some lunch, as an apology for almost killing you earlier."

"Uh...yeah, okay." Stan agreed. "I could eat."

"Alright then." The man took off his helmet and gave it to Stanley. The man was young, probably in his early twenties. He had long blonde hair, a look that Grunkle Dipper called a mullet and claimed didn't look good on anybody, but this guy seemed to be pulling it off just fine. He had a moustache and sideburns, though Stanley was having a hard time telling where the sideburns ended and the moustache started.

The man wore a bandana on his head, which, combined with his hair, his leather jacket, and the fact that he rode a motorcycle, made it clear that he was definitely a biker. The man walked back over to his bike and straightened it up. He brought it over towards Stan and got on it.

"What's your name anyways, kid?" The man asked as he gestured to the spot right behind him. Stan didn't hesitate before climbing on the bike.

"Stanley Pines." The boy said.

"Jimmy Snakes." The man introduced himself. He started his bike. "Now, let's see if they got anything edible out here in the middle of nowhere." Jimmy revved his bike and Stanley instinctively tightened his grip on the man. Jimmy looked back at Stan and smirked at him. "You ever been on a bike before, kid?" Stan timidly shook his head. "Well, you're in for a treat. Hold on tight and get ready for the ride of your life."

Jimmy started off and it was indeed the ride of Stan's life. It only took about three minutes to get to the diner, but they were the most exciting three minutes that Stan had ever had. He hadn't ever realized how cool motorcycles were. When he got older he would definitely want to get one of these.

He wondered if Jimmy would show him how to ride one. Stan definitely hoped that he would. It would be awesome to learn how to ride a bike...and pretty awesome to see Jimmy more, because the guy was just cool.

Oh, Ford and Dipper were going to freak out if they met him.

Now that would be hilarious to see.

A/N: Yep, I got Jimmy in here. If you don't know who he is, he's kinda a canon non-canon character. In other words, he was supposed to be in an episode, but it got cancelled or something. I'm going to say right now that I'm probably going to be writing Jimmy differently than other people do. See, all we know about the guy was that he was Stan's old biking buddy, and he's cursed Ghost Rider style. Now, the majority of stories that I've read that have Jimmy in it have him as a bad guy, but I don't see him that way. If he really is cursed like the Ghost Rider, that doesn't make him a demon, it makes him an antihero who sold his soul to the devil. So, yeah, this Jimmy Snakes isn't a bad guy. Just thought I'd let you know so you don't go worrying that Stan is riding off with a demon who wants to eat his soul. Nope, he's just riding off with a guy who wants to eat a cheeseburger.