Hand in Hand || Stanford x Reader

Chapter 18 • You

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of people... quacking? I shook my head and got out of bed. This dimension could be even weirder then the ones I was stuck in. Throwing on my tattered grey lab coat, I walked down the stairs to see the boy, Dipper, look utterly distraught, while his sister and Stanley were quacking obliviously.

I blinked.  Well, at least my day couldn't get any weirder.  "Hey, Dipper, why is your family quacking?"

He sighed.  "The season finale of their favorite show, "Ducktective," is airing this Friday."

"Why the long face, then?"

"Great Uncle Ford basically told me to stay away from him and his work.  All summer long I've wanted to know who the author of the journal was. Now the guy lives in our basement and I can't even talk to him!"

"Oh."  I felt incredibly awkward standing there, knowing I could go into the basement at any time, and the kid couldn't.  "I'm sure he'll warm up to you eventually."

"I'm not sure about that.  I mean, you two didn't talk for thirty straight years, and suddenly he's all buddy-buddy with you, and he's ignored me the entire time."

I had nothing to say for that.  I quickly shoved my hand into my pocket, still self conscious about the ring.  I wasn't hiding it, necessarily, more like not saying anything about it. I made my way upstairs to my old room, wondering what had changed since I left. I opened the door to find half of it covered in glitter and stuffed animals, while the other side was littered with paper and chewed-up pens. I smiled to myself. This must be the twins' room then.

The girl, Mabel, snuck up behind me. "Whatcha lookin' at?"

I nearly jumped out of my skin.  The child could be a ninja if she wanted to.  "Just taking a look at your room, it used to be mine and I thought I'd check it out."

"Well don't just stand there, come in!" Mabel pulled me inside. "I want you to tell me everything that's different."

The hyperactivity of this girl still surprised me. "There used to be a desk there, and my bed was in that corner..." I trailed off, noticing she was staring at my prosthetic hand.  I shoved it into my pocket, embarrassed. 

Mabel quietly came to my side.  "I'm sorry I was staring," she whispered.  She shut her eyes, scared I was going to be angry.

I let out a tired sigh.  "It's alright.  If I was your age, I'd probably stare, too."  I gave her a small smile and sat on her bed.  After a moment's hesitation, I detached my hand and gave it to her, letting her mess with it all she liked. 

"This is so cool!  Can you shoot lasers out of it?"  Her eyes shone.

"No, it acts just like a normal, laser-less hand.  Although, that's not a bad idea..."

Mabel continued to pore over my hand, trying to find secret compartments in it.  She stopped for a moment.  "Wait, is that a wedding ring?! Are you married?!"

I laughed awkwardly, but that quickly turned into another coughing fit.  I covered my mouth with the rag, and when I pulled it back, there was a splotch of crimson.  Great.

"Are you okay?"  The brunette gave me doe-eyes, concerned. 

"I'm fine," I said cutting off the conversation.  I couldn't let anyone know.  Enjoy it while you can, Y/N, they'll find out soon enough...

"But back on topic: no, I'm not married.  I'm engaged, though."

Mabel wiggled her eyebrows.  "Who's the lucky guy?"

"Your Great Uncle."

Her eyes looked like they were going to pop out of her head.  "WHAT?! Which one?!"

"Does Stanley look like he could keep a girlfriend for more than six hours?"

Mabel started hyperventilating.  "Your engaged to Great Uncle Ford?!  For how long?"

I mentally did the math.  "Thirty years, five months, and approximately twelve hours."

"And you're still not married?!"

"Portals kind of screw up your life."

"Wait, that means you lied to me!  You are my Grauntie!"

"Well, not quite.  But if you called me Grauntie Y/N, I'd be honored."

"EEK!  I got a new grauntie!  This is the best day of my life, Grauntie Y/N!  When's the wedding day?"

"Woah, slow down there, young cricket.  We never really set up a date for one..."

She rolled her eyes in exasperation.  "Leave it to the smart people to be unorganized.  You need a place, invitations, and ooh, a dress!  Can I please make your wedding dress, Grauntie Y/N?"

My head spun at the sheer amount of planning I had to do.  "Let me get back to you on that one..."

"I nominate myself to be your official wedding coordinator!  Leave all the details to me!"  She placed my hand back on the bed and pranced downstairs, shouting her brother's name. 

I smiled to myself.  I absolutely loved that girl, and the thought of being her "grauntie" made me feel warm inside. 

Suddenly, my lungs clogged up again.  I coughed into my rag, disheartened to see another large spot of blood.  My stupid disease ruined moments like these, reminding me my days were numbered.  I could only hope I lived to see the day I become her grauntie.