A One Time Thing

A One Time Thing

So, um, I might have made the mistake of writing fanfic on my phone instead of sleeping. Again. I got randomly stuck by the idea of an AU where Sherman takes Stan and Ford away from their parents when they're kids and does his best to take care of them on his own, and I just knew if I didn't write it now I wasn't going to ever.

It had just been supposed to be a one time thing.

When Sherman had still lived at home, it wasn't entirely uncommon for him to be woken up by the timid knock of a small hand at his door, overlayed by the sounds of yelling and crashing from the kitchen downstairs. Somehow - call it practice, maybe - he could sleep through the cacophony of angry sounds. But at the first tiny tap of knuckles on wood, he'd be groggily pulling himself out of bed with a slurred "I'm coming".

Allowing his little brothers to take refuge in his room when mom and dad were at each others throats and the twins were too upset to sleep alone wasn't an uncommon occurrence. He was the big brother, by quite a lot actually, it was his job. He was born first so that he'd be there to protect them when they came after. So he'd already have the experience gained through trial and error. So he could test the waters and let them know where it was safe to step. So he could be there to save them if they started to drown, because if he wasn't, they'd pull each other under instead.

He needed to wade out into the frigid storm and get them back to shore. Even if he was still just a kid too. Even if his brothers were too caught in the current to realize it. Even if the sharks were closing in. Even if there was blood in the water.

Blood.

Stanley's nose bled as Sherman hauled him up bodily, grabbed Ford's hand, and slammed the door to their parents' house with one last string of profanities thrown over his shoulder at their dad.

It was just a one time thing. That was what he told himself as he drove the two eight year olds to his cramped apartment and put them to bed on the couch with an icepack for Ford's black eye and a couple of tissues up Stan's nose. It was just for one night. Just until Pa calmed down enough that Sherman didn't feel violently ill at the idea of leaving the kids with him. Just until Sherman could trust that his brothers would be safe at home. It was just a one time thing.

A day stretched out into a week. A week became a month. A month became a year. Sherman had to leave them in the apartment more than he was comfortable with. He didn't want to, he lived in a crappy area, and there wasn't anything for them to do. He promised he'd try to get more time off, but someone had to pay the bills and no matter how burned out he was, he was not going to take a nine year old up on his offer to "help" by pickpocketing. Stan got himself into trouble enough as it was already. They were decently self sufficient at least. They could keep eachother occupied. Sherman still felt like he was failing them when there where entire days he didn't see them awake. When he had to be out for college classes before they even woke up, and stay out for late night shifts until long after they'd put themselves to sleep. He had to turn down coming to Ford's spelling bees and Stan's sports competitions. He had another job interview.

He hugged them, and promised it was just a one time thing.

Sherman's little brothers didn't complain as much as the other children did. He wondered if that was normal. The few times he could get off early enough to pick them up and walk them back to the apartment, he usually saw the other kids their age whining at their parents about all sorts of things, but the twins rarely ever protested anything. It wasn't like they couldn't. He remembered them both nagging and being stubborn with him when they'd all three lived at home. They were his brothers, they were supposed to be difficult with him. They were supposed to tell him that he couldn't boss them around.

They never did.

It couldn't be normal. He asked if it was, the first time he had to go to a parent teacher conference. Teachers worked with kids the whole day after all, they should know what was normal and what wasn't. All he'd gotten out of it was a lot of questions and sceptical glares. He assured the teacher he was only there because their real parents couldn't make it.

He assured them it was just a one time thing.

Feeding three people on one 20 year old's budget was hard. People his age were supposed to be spending their money on movies, dance halls, and dreams of motorbikes. Not pasta and bread. He was pretty sure Stan shoplifted a few snacks when he allowed the twins to go with him to run errands, but he wasn't about to bring it up. He couldn't bring himself to tell him no. He just wished he could pay for it instead. The fact that he had to stretch their budget to the point where he couldn't even buy his twelve year old brother a few sweets made him feel like a failure. Not nearly as much of a failure as when he looked in the pantry the night before his next paycheck and found nothing but a pack of instant noodles and some random leftover ingredients from the birthday cake he'd managed to squeeze into the budget. He put food colouring on the noodles and joked to the kids that it was worms. They ate it with joyful shrieks and the ultimate preteen-boy accolade of "gross".

Sherman filled the largest glass he had with water and drank, quietly telling himself that it was just a one time thing.

The years continued to creep by, and the twins never complained. So he supposed he was doing something right. What exactly, he wasn't sure. It didn't feel like he was doing anything right. But he supposed he had to be, because his brother's never made a fuss. Then came that one night, one that felt eerily familiar, when there was a knock on his bedroom door. The hands that made the noise were larger, stronger than they'd been, but somehow still just as timid. At the first tiny tap of knuckles on wood, he'd groggily pulled himself out of bed with a slurred "I'm coming".

There'd been a military man at their school that day. Talking to their upperclassmen about war and duty and enlistment. Stan and Ford were still too young, it didn't concern them, and Sherman told them as much as both teens broke down. Sitting together wrapped in blankets and going around and around in aimless circles of attempt reassurance as he tried to assuage their fears. The silent threat that had been looming large but seemingly distant suddenly felt far too close. As if it could be upon them any day.

That didn't matter though. They'd be okay. They'd made it this far, they could keep going. Sherman wasn't going to leave them. Not when doing so would put them back home with Pa. That wasn't going to happen, they'd be fleeing to Canada or Europe or whatever before he let that happen. They wouldn't go back. He wasn't just going to let them go without a fight.

Eventually, he managed to get the two teens calmed down enough to fall asleep. All cramped together uncomfortably on his bed. Cramped, but safe and calm.

He hoped to whatever good was out there that it wasn't just a one time thing.

From todays anatomy practice, faces still hard. Getting better though, I think ^^

Getting really late here, so I'm gonna have to call it a night and get back to the remaining suggestions another day. Thanks for the ideas guys!

Suggestion's I've got left to go for next time:

- Mabel coming out to Ford (or vice versa)

- Child!Wendy/Braces Wendy

- Pines twins with wings

It's finally starting to feel like summer here! So I wanted to make something bright and colorful for a change from my recent angsty moods. ^^

No but actually, I might have gotten bit by the plot bunny and written a short drabble when I should have gotten to sleep.

---

Pacifica supposed her parents had expected her to bend after a night or two out from under their roof. Come crawling back with her tail between her legs and meekly promise to behave. To leave the first boy who'd been genuinely kind to her in the mud, alienate Mabel by proxy, and agree to sell herself to help them purchase even a scrap of the life they'd had before that fateful summer three years ago.

What they probably hadn't expected her to do, was to prefer sleeping in a sticky booth at the diner with her dignity intact. Better that than trading it for a guilded cage. She'd rather spend the rest of her life waiting tables and serving rude customers coffee with a grating smile. She didn't need her parents. She was resourceful, she was persistent, she was all of the maybe three good characteristics found in the Northwests.

She was apparently also some of the bad, though.

She was sneaky.

It wasn't that she wanted to go behind her boss' back. Especially not after they'd been kind enough to hire her despite her family's abysmal reputation in the wake of Weirdmageddon. Taking the closing shift just to be able to crash at the diner over night might be dishonest, but she'd rather be dishonest than dead. At least in this case. In the diner, she didn't risk being eaten by gnomes or carried off by giant bats or whatever else roamed the town at night. Although, if she did, maybe Mabel and Dipper could come save her. But letting them do so would mean admitting defeat. Admitting what was going on. She wouldn't admit defeat because she wasn't defeated. She'd pull through. She was perfectly fine. She just had to stay on top of things. Stay on top of things, and also make sure to never again make the mistake of locking herself out of the diner. She didn't understand how the night air could feel so cold, it was early summer for crying out loud. What on earth could posses poor people to sleep under the stars for fun? Dipper had offered her to join the Pines on a family camping trip the month before, but she had turned him down. As far as she could tell, camping was pretty much just pretend homelessness. Funny that. Maybe if she'd taken him up on the offer it wouldn't feel so scary now.

Somehow, it didn't actually feel very funny at all.

Pacifica shivered and pulled her apron tighter over herself like a stained blanket. It wasn't nearly long enough to get the job done. If she pulled it up to cover her arms her legs would be exposed, but if she draped it over her legs her arms were bared to the wind and the mosquitos instead. She supposed she could call a coworker and ask for them to come with a spare key, Susan was pretty patient with her. But that would mean revealing that she'd been staying at the diner after hours. Or worse; that for all intents and purposes she was now homeless. The notorious Northwest heiress, trembling under a too-small piece of fabric on a park bench. Her parents would have an aneurism.

There was something moving in the treeline.

A new chill that had nothing to do with the wind gripped her tight, the anxiety squeezing her lungs until breathing abandoned her. She pulled the apron over her head and hoped whatever it was wouldn't see her.

The old wooden planks bent under the weight of a person sitting down beside her.

What had she expected? She wasn't a five year old hiding under the covers and scared of the monster in the closet! She was almost sixteen, and this was the real world with real threats! Why would she possibly think that-

"Ya doing okay there?"

She recognised that voice. It was the same one she'd heard in tacky local commercials her whole childhood, the same one she'd timidly followed as the town burned around her, the same one she'd sometimes hear laughing gruffly in the background of Dipper's phonecalls. The fear drained out of her, replaced by shame. She pulled the apron back off of her head and almost instantly regretted it. She could feel her face burn.

"I-I'm fine."

"Sure ya are. Figured you wanted to try the whole 'free trial of homelessness' thing anyways?" His voice was relaxed and casual, as always. It made her feel just the smallest bit better. "You could have called us."

"I don't need help."

He regarded her closely, the unguarded smile still plastered on his face, before suddenly he dropped it with a sigh and shrugged his jacket off. Handing it wordlessly to the girl.

"Yeah, I used to think the same."

Pacifica swallowed her pride and accepted the offering.

"But, ya know, even if we don't need it... 'Camping' sucks a whold lot less with family there beside ya."

Hmmm I am usually not much of a shipper but: Pacifica's parents want her to get together with a rich boy when she's a teen to help them get their social standing back, but she sticks by Dipper regardless. Her parents give her the ultimatum to dump him or they 'dump' her, expecting her to comply. She doesn't, and gets kicked out. The Pines' basically adopt her after that (the whole thing hit's way to close to home for Stan and Ford).

Hold on... I’m okay... I’m fine, I’m fine...

She’s too proud to tell anyone about the situation, even after her parents kick her out. Stan finds her sleeping on a bench after she accidentally gets locked out of the diner (where she’d been staying). He takes her straight home to the Shack. Ford has to stop him and Dipper from keying the Northwests’ cars. Dipper stays up comforting her and lets her stay in his bed while he bunks on the couch.

What if Soos had parakeet wings since i remembered that if you put a covering on soos he falls asleep like a parakeet.....

Also valid point ☝️ (but we might be getting a few too many parrots)