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"I can't believe this, Stanley! Pug trafficking? What even is burglebezzlement?" Ford shouts. "All this time, you've been leading a life of ridiculous crime under my name? What's next, you're gonna tell me I'm on the no-fly list?"
"What? No! ....Well, okay, maybe, but-"
" Seriously!? "
"Look, I think you don't have the right to judge me after letting the kids control me with a mind control device. I guess in haughty taughty science land nobody gives a shit about 'ethics' or 'responsibility'."
" Ethics ? Responsibility ? As if you would know anything about-"
Mabel covers her ears. This is far from the first time she'd heard her grunkles fight, and she hates it just as much as any other. Why can't they just hug and make up? Somebody needs to fix these two broken souls, and it needs to be Mabel.
If only she knew how....
There's the sound of a crash, stumbling, and more yelling. Mabel flinches. This is the breaking point for her. "AUGH!!! What's with you guys!?" She explodes.
Grunkle Stan jumps, startled by the sound of her voice. He turns around, discreetly wiping off his knuckles, and forces a smile. "Mabel, sweetie! What are you doing up so late? Heh...."
"Really. In front of the child, Stanley..." Ford grumbles, wiping off his nose and in the process smearing blood across his cheek. Had Stan actually landed a punch on him? Wow.
Mabel chokes back tears, her cheeks hot. "I was going to watch the new episode of Ducktective, since I missed it last night, but YOU TWO wouldn't stop FIGHTING! Why do adults have to fight so much, huh ? Why can't you two just get along?"
"We, uh...." Ford scratches the back of his neck.
"Ford, let's take this outside." Stan shoots him a serious look, grabbing him by the hand. Ford yanks his hand back, shooting his brother a glare. "I am perfectly capable of finding my way out of my own house, Stanley."
"Ugh. Fine. Go right ahead, then. Hey, don't stay up too late, kiddo. And leave me some of those cheese boodles."
The two leave, and Mabel is left to her own devices. She lets out a long groan, flopping face-first on the shag carpet, only to be brought back into this mortal plane by the sound of the cold open of Ducktective. She lifts up her head, spitting goat hair out of her mouth, and glues her eyes to the screen. Metaphorically, as the time she attempted to literally glue her eyes to the screen had ended in a hospital visit and very disgruntled parents. She giggles to herself at the memory.
"Oh, Ducktective.... Maybe you can help me forget my woes."
And so she lets the episode play.
~~~~~
"Quack quack quack! (I just want an apology!)"
"Quack quack, quack quack quack! (I already said, I'm sorry!)"
"Quack quack quack. (A sincere apology.)"
"Quack quack! (Oh, will you shut up about that? Every apology I've given you has been sincere, it's not my fault your head is so far up your own cloaca for you to accept that!)"
Mabel covers her face with a pillow and groans so loudly that Waddles squeals in his sleep. "UGH, why can't Ducktective and his brother just make up already? This is stupid. This whole show is stupid." She throws the pillow at the screen, and it falls to the floor with a soft "flump."
She picks up her favorite unicorn plushie and turns to look in its sparkly, rainbow plastic eyes. "I wish the story would go how I want. Like the convoluted backstory I made up for you and your thirty seven royal subjects."
She ruminates on it for a moment, before sitting up with a jolt. "That's it! Sparkling Dusklight, that's it! I can make them make up!" She jumps to her feet. "I'll be right back! I need to get construction paper, staples, and ALL my gel pens!"
In less than a minute, she returns, giggling like a maniac. She flops down on her stomach with the pens and paper in front of her, kicking her feet in the air as she begins writing. "Ducktective, be ready for the family reconciliation of a lifetime!" She squeals. "They're gonna hug soooooo hard...!"
~~~~~
"Um.... I admire your creativity, Mabel, but what exactly.... is this?" Ford squints at the paper, attempting to peel his hand off and getting glitter glue stuck between his fingers in the process.
"It's a script." Mabel puffs up with pride. "You two are going to act out my fix-it fic for award-winning children's show Ducktective!"
"Er... You sure you have the... casting right?" Stan adjusts his glasses as he flips through the pages.
"Affirmative, quack quack!" Mabel mimes a duck beak with her hand.
"Look, it's a sweet thought, but I'm not hugging that guy until he learns basic empathy and gratitude." Stan glares in Ford's direction. "Get Soos to do it, or make Ford hug a tree for all I care."
"For once in his life, Stanley's right, Mabel. I really don't think this is a good idea." Ford pushes up his glasses and begins to stand up off the floor.
"For once in my- you ungrateful sack of skin, I didn't spend 30 years pulling you out of your own wacko sci-fi creation for you to tell me I'm the one who's never been right. You f- You screw up just as much as I do, you've just got your head too far up your own crack to admit it."
"Stanley, I know I've screwed up. I will admit that I have screwed up many times, but you- your entire life is a screw up! Can you think back through the past 40 years and tell me one singular thing you've done right? Honestly, Stanley."
"Why you little....!"
Stan squeezes his hand into a white-knuckled fist, but loosens it instantly at the sound of quiet sniffling. Him and Ford turn towards it at the same time.
Mabel is sitting curled up with her knees tucked into her sweater, gently rocking as she quietly sobs into the cloth. Her breaths are stilted, uneven, and it doesn't take much imagination to know that the soft fabric of her sweater is getting soiled with both tears and snot.
All the anger in the room instantly dissipates. "Woah, kiddo...." Stan crouches down and attempts to put a hand on Mabel's shoulder. She jerks away like a frightened animal, shooting him a bloodshot glare.
"NO!! LEAVE ME ALONE, BOTH OF YOU!!!" She squeezes her eyes shut and covers her ears, rocking more intensely. "TOO MUCH FIGHTING!!! I'M TIRED OF FIGHTING! You're just like mom and dad.... We came here to get away from fighting, but you two are just as bad.... What's wrong with you guys? What's wrong with adults? Why do adults always fight...?" Her voice fizzles out into a miserable whimper as she completely buries her face in her knees beneath her sweater and flops to the side as a little ball of misery.
Stan knows he fucked up. He fucked up bad, and he can't pin it entirely on Ford this time. They both fucked up. He looks back at Ford, who gives him a questioning glance, an unspoken 'did I miss something?'
'Divorce,' Stan mouths, and at that, Ford winces, pursing his lips and adjusting his glasses, suddenly staring very intently at an old coffee stain on the wall. Stan rolls his eyes. Fuckin' loser. For all his book smarts, poindexter over here has the emotional intelligence of an underripe eggplant.
Stan takes a deep breath. "Look, kid, I'm sorry. We'll stop. We're not fighting anymore, see?" He gestures towards Ford, who quickly pulls himself together and forces a smile.
Mabel peeks out from her sweater and glances between the two. "Really...?"
"Yeah, uh. Really." Stan scratches the back of his neck. "In fact, I think me and ol' Sixer over here should go out and have a talk for a bit. Official grunkle business, ya know. No fighting."
Mabel sniffs. "Alright... But you need to promise me you'll be nice to each other."
"Sure, kid..." Mabel kicks him. "AAGH! Okay, okay, we will. ...Heh, good one," he laughs, and finds, to his irritation, that Ford laughs the same thing at the same time.
~~~~~
Once the two men are outside, Stan breathes in and exhales a heavy sigh. "Look, Ford. We fucked up. We both did."
Ford sighs too. "Once again, Stanley, you're right." A smile catches the corner of his mouth. He catches it and quickly forces it back into a stern expression. "So, what is your proposed course of action?"
"From now on, we keep all our baggage to ourselves. No more arguing in the house. We don't have to like each other, but we hold it together in front of the kids. Deal?" He holds out his hand for Ford to shake. Ford's facial muscles twitch for a second and he silently pushes down Stan's hand. Stan feels a flash of irritation and betrayal at this, but it makes a messed up kind of sense, as much as he hates it. His brother had always been uncomfortable with handshakes with most people, only giving a proper handshake to the ones he truly trusted. 40 years ago, Stan had been among those few people. But now.... Guess I'm no better than a stranger to you, eh, bro?
"...Fine. ....I don't like seeing Mabel cry any more than you do, you know." He stares off into the distance. Stan tsks.
“So… Time to be Ducktective, I guess.”
Ford flinches. “We shall do that which must be done.”
“Ugh, do you have to phrase it like that? You're not some movie hero, poindexter, you're an overdramatic nerd who's about five decades too old for this sh-”
Ford punches him on the shoulder, but this time, there's no real force behind it.
~~~~~
“Mabel, sweetie, I love you and all that, but did you have to gather everyone here?” Stan glances between the members of the small crowd that had gathered. Dipper, Soos, Wendy, and Mabel's friends whose names he'd never remembered were all gathered in the living room to watch the show.
“Yep!” She beams. “Go on!”
“I will record it for precious memories!” The smaller of Mabel's friends takes out a film camera.
“Aw HECK no, I am NOT doing this on-”
“Already agreed to it.” Ford reminds him matter-of-fact-ly.
“Right. So…. Ahem.” Stan squints at the paper. These lines are making him want to hurl himself into the bottomless pit. Of all of Mabel's many creative talents, writing is not one of them. “Are you… ready to apologize, brother? For real, this time?”
Ford instantly got in character. Or…. as in character as one could be with that absolutely god-awful writing. “Of course. I am…” He stifles a laugh. “...very sorry for shooting you, brother. It's just that you've always been so smart and successful, and I've always been nothing. A criminal scumbag who can't get a leg up. I really didn't mean it at first- I got roped in with the wrong people and…. that doesn't matter. I'm sorry. I just wanted to prove myself.”
“ You just wanted to prove yourself? I've been working to prove myself every single day. Being…” Stan snorts. This is so stupid… “Being the only duck in a human school messed with my head, I wanted to prove that I could be more than that, that I could be something better, not just different. I didn't mean to make you feel left-behind. I'm sorry for that. ….Still messed up that you shot me, though.”
“Agreed.”
…Ah. This part. Stan glances off at Mabel, who is rubbing her hands together and rocking on her toes with glee. …Right. For Mabel.
“....Awkward sibling hug?” He shoots Ford a smile.
Ford reciprocates the smile, although Stan is inclined to believe that he does so out of sheer commitment to the bit and nothing more. “Awkward sibling hug.”
Fuck this fuck this fuck this-
The two hug. Awkwardly. It feels stiff, forced, which it is. But also painfully familiar in a way Stan hates. He isn't sure how long he's zoned out for by the time Mabel shouts “DO THE PATS!”
“Oh, er, right.”
Ford laughs.
“Pat. Pat.”
“AND SO!!!!” Mabel practically shrieks, throwing her hands in the air. “DUCKTECTIVE AND DUCKTHOLOMEW’S BROTHERLY BOND WAS SAVED BY THE POWER OF…”
“Love?” Ford supplies helpfully.
“Raise your hand next time, teacher's pet.” Stam whispers.
“NO!” Mabel interjects. And then, after a pause for dramatic effect- “.... Fanfiction. ”