I do not own Gravity Falls.

So we've reached the final chapter. I certainly didn't expect for this story to get as many faves and follows as it has. Thank you, for all your lovely comments and support. I appreciate it.

Goal: Think we can send this story off by hitting ninety reviews?

Until next time,

AnimationNut out.

Peace!

Full Recovery

"Mabel! Stop hogging the whipped cream!"

"I got it first!"

These shouts sounded a week later, rousing Stan from his slumber. With an irritated grunt, he noticed that it was nine in the morning, a time in which he didn't usually get out of bed on his day off. Kicking away his covers he stepped to the hardwood floor and stretched, getting out the kinks in his back. With some reluctance he went to investigate his niece and nephew.

"What's with the racket?" he demanded before fully appearing in the doorway to the kitchen.

"She won't share!" snapped Dipper, who was pinned to the floor by his sister. He tried to grab the can of whipped cream, but she held it out of reach.

"It's mine!" she protested. "I got it first."

Stan crossed his arms, taking a moment to study the two. Their faces were full of colour and clear of sweat. The bags that were previously underneath Dipper's eyes were gone and Mabel was practically vibrating with energy. Their hair was damp, indicating that they both had just showered. They were also fully dressed in their usual attire.

"I'm guessing you runts feel better, huh?"

"One hundred percent!" confirmed Mabel, happily adding a healthy dose of whipped cream to her hot chocolate.

"I'd feel better if she'd get off me," grumbled Dipper.

"Mabel, get off your brother. And give him the whipped cream."

Pouting, she complied. Dipper beamed triumphantly and took hold of the blue can.

"When you're done eating, you can go into the Shack and clean up," instructed Stan. "It's just Wendy today."

"What about you?" asked Dipper.

"I'm taking a day off."

"You never take days off."

Stan shrugged. "Well, I am today. Perfect timing, if I do say so myself. You guys have a lot of work to catch up on, so get moving."

"You got it!" said Mabel, saluting him.

"Alright," agreed Dipper. He had been expecting this, for there was no way his great-uncle would let them run wild when they were better and there was work to be done.

Nodding in satisfaction, Stan grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and departed for the living room. Mabel and Dipper finished their breakfast and hurried into the Mystery Shack. Wendy brightened when the two burst through the door. "My bros! You back at the grind?"

"You know it," said Dipper, growing warm under the dazzling smile Wendy sent him. "We're on cleaning duty."

"Boring. So we'll make it fun. This place is pretty dead anyway." Wendy went over to the radio and cranked it up, so that hip-hop music pumped throughout the gift shop. "Dance Party!"

Whooping, Dipper and Mabel grabbed a broom and mop respectively and started twirling around the floor, with Wendy shaking her hips on top of the register stand.

The dance session lasted for about two hours, with the twins using their dance moves to sweep across the floor, picking up dust and cleaning food stains with their cleaning materials. They may have frightened a few customers away with their display, but it was something Stan didn't need to know about.

"Whew!" breathed Mabel, leaning against her mop with a flushed face. "That was wicked!"

Dipper set his cleaning supplies aside. "Well, I guess that's that. You know, we haven't been outside in forever," he mused, staring out the window.

"Let's go frolic!" exclaimed Mabel, letting her mop rest against the wall. "We can roll in the grass!"

"Er…yeah. You do that." Dipper glanced at the redhead. "Is it cool if we leave?"

Wendy pretended to pout. "Oh, fine. Ditch me. But we're so hitting the town after my shift."

"Definitely," said Dipper with a smile. "We'll see you later!"

The twins rushed outside, immediately enjoying the sensation of the sun on their faces. Mabel bounced on her toes. "What should we do?"

Dipper's eyes locked on the golf cart. "How about a victory lap around the Shack?"

"I'm driving!" Mabel was off like a shot.

"No! I'm driving!"

After a brief tussle, Dipper won the right to drive. The two buckled up and Dipper gripped the wheel. "Let's go!"

He stepped on the gas and the white Mystery Cart roared across the dirt. Mabel whooped as her brother turned sharply around the wooden building, kicking up a cloud of dust. "Faster!"

"This won't go any faster!"

"Yes it will! Just let me drive!"

"Mabel, it won't make a difference!"

"Yes it will!"

"Hey! Let go of the wheel!"

In her attempt to take control, Mabel accidentally jerked the wheel too far to the right. Dipper slammed on the brakes, but it was not enough to keep them from careening into the side of the Mystery Shack. Pieces of wood and plaster rained down, striking the roof of the cart and bouncing to the ground. Dipper and Mabel peeked nervously through the hole they had made.

"Um…at least we have a shortcut to the living room," Mabel joked. She flinched under the sharp glare her brother sent her.

"I am so not taking the blame for this," he grumbled, stepping carefully from the dented vehicle. Mabel was about to follow him, but when Stan burst into the room, she decided it might be safer if she remained seated.

Can of soda gripped in his hand, Stan gawked at the disaster that was now his living room. A decent-sized hole in the right wall let him see the bright sunlight and the sprawling green grass of his yard. His eyes snapped to his charges, who were looking at him nervously.

"I was out of this room for no longer than a minute," he said in a low, dangerous tone. "In that minute, you rammed a cart straight through my wall."

"It was an accident," said Mabel weakly.

"Uh…" Now that they were under the sharp glare of their great-uncle, he knew he couldn't leave his sister to solely take the blame (even if it was mostly her fault). "Yeah. Sorry."

Setting down his drink, Stan approached the twins. He hefted Mabel from the cart and picked Dipper up by the back of his vest. Lifting them up so that they had no choice but to look him in the eye, he growled, "Put the cart back where you found it. When you're done that, you're gonna call Soos, and the three of you are going to fix this mess. After that, you can spend the rest of the week working double-time in the Shack."

"Yes, Grunkle Stan," the two chorused quickly.

Stan set them down and gave each a light smack to the head to motivate them into action. The two quickly sped off to complete the orders they were given. Stan crossed his arms and watched them go, a slight smirk working its way across his face.

"Yeah. The runts are back. Which means more trouble for me."

Not that I'd have it any other way.

With a smile, he went to sit in his chair. "If I'm lucky, they won't bring down the rest of this place trying to fix-ah…ah…ah…achoo!"

…uh-oh.