A/N New chapter of "The Clairvoyant's Curse" is coming soon, real soon, I promise.

For now, here's a Stan-centric stay told in three parts. The story is completed and I will upload Part two by Saturday and part Three will be up by Tuesday.

Enjoy!

Part One: Drive

The sweltering heat in the air was making Stan irritated. He brushed his arm across his forehead to wipe away the sweat gathering on his brow, cursing the busted A/C in his car as he replaced the cap to his gas tank. He grumbled under his breath, complaining about the cost of gas nowadays and opened the door to climb in, contemplating lunch at the diner across the street. He was tired and hungry after a long day on the road and could use a good juicy burger. Cholesterol be damned.

He checked his watch and decided to go for it. He was still a few hours out of town and he didn't have anything before he left so why not? He was starving. Besides, he never wanted to drive hours out of town for a measly thingamajig for Ford in the first place but Ford said he needed it for some experiment or something and it was important and yada-yada-yada. It wasn't available anywhere in town and it would've taken too long to wait for shipping so Stan, being the shmuck he is, agreed to drive all the way to Portland to get it. He figured that it was a nice day, and it would be nice to take a day trip on his own to clear his head. The past year had been… eventful to say the least and he hadn't had much time to himself lately. But he was exhausted and lately had been feeling, well, not much like himself. Not quite under the weather, but not normal either. Probably his old age catching up with him, but he regretted offering to make the trip the moment he agreed.

Decision made about lunch, he climbed into the sauna that was his car and drove across the street, pulling into the parking lot at the diner.

The diner, along with the gas station, was a lonely little dive in the middle of nowhere on a long stretch of winding roads with a touristy gift shop not much different than the one he used to run at the Mystery Shack. He had been there once before, recently with Ford and remembered the food being delicious and the gift shop to be...admittedly decent. It was no Mystery Shack Gift Shop, but at least it had A/C. And for a Monday in June, before school is out in most parts of Oregon and therefore before tourist season officially kicked off, it looked like he would be one of the only customers. The only other car in the customer parking lot was a big black pick-up truck and two burly men stepped outside the diner and made their way towards it.

He climbed out of his car anticipating the cool A/C and a nice lunch to fuel him through his last stretch of driving. As he stood he noticed that the older of the two men glanced his way and then did a double take, recognition filling his eyes.

"Well, well, if it ain't Stan Pines? That really you? Holy shit man, I thought you were dead!"

Stan waved awkwardly, "Uh, hello." The recognition wasn't mutual and he wracked his brain trying to remember this guy. He felt like he should recognize him, but his memories were still a little scrambled. Not enough to affect him day to day, as he remembered the important things, but enough to make encounters like this a little awkward.

"What are the odds? After all these years running into you out here in the middle of nowhere," he grinned, and something in his smile made Stan nervous besides the discomfort of not recognizing someone who clearly knew him.

"I uh, I'm sorry have we met?" Stan asked.

"Oh, don't play dumb with me, Stan Pines," the man grinned, saying his name with venom in his voice as he approached him with an odd menace in his step.

Despite his age, Stan knew he could hold his own in a fight, he and Ford fought a lot of nasty supernatural creatures together, and he even punched a pterodactyl in the face once, but this man had him shuffling his feet nervously. "Sorry, you don't look familiar to me," he said, wincing, "my uh, memory ain't what it used to be."

"How convenient," he scoffed, "you don't remember me? Then I guess you don't remember the money you owe me."

"Money?" Stan frowned.

The man moved in front of the Stanleymobile and soon was right next to him, "Yeah, money," he reiterated, pushing back his denim vest to reveal a holster with a gun, "lots of it."

It was most likely true, Stan owed a lot of people money. But this guy was still unfamiliar, yet there was something in his eyes, a dangerous menace that reminded him of…something, he just…couldn't quite remember what.

"Maybe if you get in the trunk, it'll jar your memory," he grinned, and with a swift movement the gun was pointed at his chest.

Stan raised his hands, his eyes stinging from the sweat dripping down his face, only this time it was not just from the blistering heat, but also a pang of fear. He didn't remember the incident of being locked in the trunk of a car with full clarity, but he remembered the claustrophobia creeping in when he hadn't experienced it before, he could remember the suffocating heat and the pain in his hands and fingers from trying to claw his way out, and the painful realization that if he didn't escape he was going to die. He obviously got out eventually, though he couldn't remember how, but he now understood his fear of tight spaces and the occasional nightmares about being buried alive. Nightmares that he vaguely recalled had once plagued him on a regular basis.

He recognized the man now, his face shifting into familiarity but his name…the name was on the tip of his tongue but his mouth was dry and he couldn't speak the name that haunted him for years.

How could he have forgotten him? Is it the fact they're both over thirty years older and both weathered with age? True, he had his entire memory erased and hadn't gotten them all back completely, but surely this guy was someone he would've remembered. You don't simply forget the man who nearly killed you, twice. The phrase: "Third time's a charm" raced through his head and he tried to shove that thought away.

"Look, here's my wallet, take it OK? I don't want trouble," Stan said, embarrassed for suddenly being so afraid – especially now, after all he had been through and all he had faced. The man was big and threatening, clearly still strong and just as tough as he was back in the day, but so was Stan. He wasn't feeling quite right lately, but despite the strange sense of wrongness in his body, Stan still felt that he could take this guy if he had to and yet fear gripped him tight. Stan had battled monsters and demons and come out on top, so why was he so frozen in fear now that his foe was only a man? Maybe it's because there are still such gaps in his memory and he's doubting himself because of it. Surely the fractured memories swirling in his brain were twisted and warped into making him imagine a threat far worse than reality… "H-how much do I owe you?" he asked, trying to keep things calm, hoping he could talk his way out of the situation, "I can write you a cheque…?"

"A cheque?" the man scoffed, "Worthless. Get in the car, we're going for a ride. Frankie!" he called out to the younger man, "I'm going to ride with my old friend here, follow us, OK?"

"Sure thing, pops," the younger man said, grinning.

"Look I…"

"Get. In. The. Car," he ordered, the barrel of his gun pressing into his chest as he grabbed Stan's wallet.

"Where are we going?" Stan asked, climbing back into the Stanleymobile, swallowing a lump in his throat, still confused about this guy who clearly held a serious grudge.

The man climbed into the back seat directly behind him, pressing his weapon into Stan's neck, "Just drive."

"OK," he said, putting the key into the ignition and pulling out of the parking lot, trying to figure out a strategy of how to escape his situation. He decided to turn back towards Portland and away from Gravity Falls, wanting to keep him as far away from his family as possible. The man, Ron, Rick…Rico!...didn't seem to have any specific destination in mind, and that made Stan a little nervous as he tried to figure out what he had in mind for Stan.

"There's only eighty bucks in this wallet," Rico scoffed after a while, "did you seriously think I would be satisfied with only eighty bucks? You have any idea just how much you owe me?"

"Look buddy, I don't remember you, I swear," Stan insisted, though by now it was a lie. He didn't remember everything, there's still a lot about him he can't quite remember, but he remembered enough to know that Rico was not someone you wanted to mess with. He was tougher than he looked, and he already looked foreboding. Then there's the fact that he had always had a sadistic cruelty about his nature. Plus, he had connections. Woe be the man who gets on Rico's bad side. He didn't need to remember the details to understand that little fact. If only Stan could remember what exactly he did to get on Rico's bad side in the first place, because he had a strong feeling it was more than just because of money that he owed. The only reason Stan escaped him all these years was because Rico thought Stan was dead.

"I don't want trouble so whatever you want from me…I'll give you whatever you want."

"Yes, you will," Rico agreed, and Stan could see him through the rear-view mirror shuffling around, snooping at the junk in the back seat. Stan would've taken the distraction as an opportunity to swerve the car, get his gun and gain control but Rico's kid Frankie was following close behind. It would be too risky, and considering how he had been feeling lately, like something was wrong with him, he couldn't trust that his reflexes would be fast enough for him to take and maintain control. For now, he had to do as he was told, keep him placated and wait for the right opportunity.

"Cute kids," Rico said with amusement holding up a photograph from his wallet for him to see through the rear-view mirror. He pulled the photo from the clear plastic cover and flipped it over, reading their names on the back, "Dipper and Mabel," their names rolled off his tongue in a cold, sinister way and there was a hungry glee in Rico's eyes that made Stan sick, "Must be very important to you, huh?" How old are they?"

"Look man, leave them out of this," Stan growled.

"Just making conversation," Rico chuckled calmly, "How old are they?" his voice returned to menace.

"Thirteen."

"Nice age," Rico cooed, not taking his eyes off the picture, "not quite children, not yet grown up. Shame if something were to happen to them."

"You go anywhere near them and I will kill you," Stan growled, and he meant it.

Now that his memories were coming back to him there was no doubt in his mind that Rico was a legitimate and dangerous threat. Stan knew exactly what Rico capable of and what kind of sick, sadistic fetishes he had. As scared as Stan was for himself right now, he was relieved that the kids weren't here. Before he left on this little day trip they had said they wanted to come with him to keep him company. Stan almost said yes, but ended up saying no so he could have the day to himself and besides, Soos needed their help setting up for Tourist Season. He dreaded the thought of what might have happened if they were here. He never wanted the kids to ever have to cross this guy's path and he was mentally kicking himself for letting Rico get his hands on the picture. But it didn't even occur to him and when he gave him his wallet, he still hadn't remembered exactly the kind of monster he was dealing with.

Rico ignored the threat, reaching for something else in the back seat, "Interesting," he remarked, reaching into a box on the floor just behind the passenger seat. Stan swallowed hard, knowing exactly what was in the box. Mystery Shack stuff, some old files and paperwork, a few miscellaneous items from the gift shop.

"Mystery Shack, huh?" Rico said, "Gravity Falls, Oregon. Well, look at you Mr. Fancy Business Owner. I know where we're going now. Turn around."

"OK but you'd be wasting your time," Stan said, trying to keep his voice even as he made a U turn, "it's not my business anymore. Sold it last year. I don't have anything to do with it anymore."

Rico smirked, pulling out his phone. "Mystery Shack, Gravity Falls," he said into the device. "Oh look, here's the website!" he exclaimed.

Website? The Mystery Shack had a website now? This was news to Stan who was never very good with computers and always thought a website would take away from the rustic, hidden gem kind of appeal of the place. He didn't have a say anymore as it was under new management of course, but Stan wished it didn't exist now more than ever. The less Rico knew, the better and a website wasn't helping his cause.

"Huh," Rico muttered before suddenly leaning forward and wrapping his arm around Stan's neck, causing him to swerve slightly before regaining control of the car. "Don't lie to me Pines, you say you don't have anything to do with the place, you sure about that?"

Stan gagged and choked at the grip around his neck, he could feel the barrel of the gun digging painfully into his neck and out of the corner of his eye saw another picture on Rico's phone. It was a picture of everyone. Him and Ford, Soos, Wendy, and the kids. Melody had taken the picture just yesterday. "Old picture," he choked out in a desperate attempt to get his attention away from them.

"Funny, the caption says, 'Mystery Shack family reunion 2013'! Looks like the whole gang is there, I say we pay them a visit, don't you?"

"Look, how much do I owe you?" Stan asked, desperate, "We can stop by a bank or I can wire the money to you now… They don't need to be a part of this, Rico."

Rico laughed, leaning back, "Oh Stan, I don't care about the money…well, yeah I do, but after that stunt you pulled all those years ago, I want more than just getting my money back. Much more."

"What stunt?" Stan asked, still unable to remember that detail.

"Quit it with the fake amnesia shit, you know perfectly well. You betrayed me! Because of you I spent ten years in prison, did you know that? My boys were raised without a daddy for ten years because of you!" Rico hissed, raising his voice angrily, painfully jabbing his gun into Stan's neck, "Would've been more but they released me a few years early. But all those years I was out for your blood, did you know that? But then word got out that you were dead. I can't believe I bought it, too. Should've known you'd take the coward's way out, instead of facing me like a man! Let me tell you, betraying me? Faking your death? Big mistake! One you will pay for dearly."

"Whatever I did, I'm sorry, I'll do whatever you want, you can do what you want to me I don't care, I probably deserve it, but leave them out of it, they have nothing to do with this."

"If you just paid me what you owed and left well enough alone and didn't set me up like you did, and didn't run away and hide like a coward, we wouldn't be here right now. We could've parted ways back at that diner like nothing ever happened. But it's too late for that, ain't it?" He leaned forward again, growling furiously into his ear, "I don't appreciate being lied to Stan! I don't appreciate being betrayed and I don't appreciate being made to look like a fool! Simply paying me back ain't enough now, Stan. Now, I want to see you suffer."

They came across a small dirt road that looked like it hadn't been used in a long time. "Know what? Change of plans, turn in here," Rico said. Stan did as he was told, his mind racing as he tried to think of an escape plan, or a way to warn everyone if something happened to him. The truck followed them, his bumper right on Stan's tail. Escaping would be tricky, but not impossible. If he could just get a hold of the gun somehow…

The road led to a small clearing and a dead end. "Stop here and get out," Rico ordered and Stan did as he was told as the truck also came to a stop and Rico's kid Frankie stepped out.

"So what's happening pop?" Frankie asked.

"We're going for a little hike," Rico said, "and then we're going to Gravity Falls. My old friend Stan here has family there. Such a cute, sweet looking family. I think we need to go and say hi."

"I swear, you go anywhere near them…" Stan growled, his heart pounding with fear. Fear for himself, but mostly for his family. If he couldn't get out of this alive... they would have no idea what kind of danger they'd be in, they might not even know what hit them if Rico and his kid or his goons went after them.

Rico laughed with sadistic amusement. "Walk," Rico ordered, all traces of amusement gone from his voice and now full of a venomous hatred. He pointed Stan in the direction of a forgotten trail into the woods, so overgrown and ignored, Stan had to brush away cobwebs as he led the way down the path. The area was so remote that if Rico murdered him, it could take weeks, month, years before anyone would find his body.

"I can get you the money, please, do whatever you want with me, kill me, torture me, whatever rocks your boat, but please leave them alone, they've done nothing to you," Stan begged, feeling the barrel of Rico's gun pressing into his back. He hated being forced to beg, but he didn't know what else to do. Rico's son Frankie also had his gun pulled so if Stan tried anything and failed, there would be no question, his family will pay for it.

But he had to do something. He had to try. If he couldn't save himself, he had to still do whatever he could to protect the kids, to protect his brother. He wracked his brain trying to think of some way to disarm Rico and turn the tables on them without being shot down first; but his reflexes were slower lately and he was terrified of what would happen if he failed. Stan would gladly die for his family and if he thought it would get Rico to leave them alone he would pull the trigger himself. But he knew it wouldn't be enough and he couldn't help them if he was dead.

The thick trees led to a clearing and the sound of rushing water nearby indicated a stream or river nearby, probably at the base of the cliff overlooking the edge of the small clearing.

"On your knees Pines," Rico ordered, forcibly shoving Stan forward.

"So what? You gonna kill me?" Stan asked, trying to keep the terror from his voice, "What about your money? Don't you need me alive for that?"

"Not my biggest concern or need at the moment. Besides, I don't need you to get my money. Your debt is now their debt," he held up the photo of Dipper and Mabel that he had in his wallet, "I want you to suffer, I want you dead," Rico hissed, "now get on your knees!"

This was it. It was now or never. The way he had been feeling lately had Stan doubt whether he could be fast enough to gain the upper hand, but he had to make his move. If Stan did what he was told, he would be dead and it would be the kids who would be left to suffer at their cruel hands. His heart pumping with fear and adrenaline he twirled around and tried to grab for the gun but Rico was faster, pulling it upward and clocking him in the head with the base of it.

Stan's world went topsy-turvy at the surprising strength behind the blow and stumbled to the ground. He could feel blood trickle down his forehead as his vision wavered dizzily. Rico and Frankie were a blur as he tried to push himself up and attack, but he wasn't fast enough. Another blow, this time a kick to his sternum had him landing on his back, knocking the wind out of him.

"They won't have the money… I do, I know how to…please!" he begged, rolling over to push himself up.

Another blow in the small of his back, courtesy of Frankie this time.

"Oh trust me, I have my ways of getting what's owed to me Stan," Rico taunted, "you should know that by now."

Stan was shaking, he knew what lengths Rico take and what he would do. He could only imagine what Rico had in store for them and the thought sickened him. And there was no way to warn them…no way to protect them.

"Here's what I have in mind for them," Rico laughed, "see, I figure the boy and the girls could keep us company while, I'm guessing your brother and the younger guy can get my funds. It's bound to be a good time, right? I mean, you know how much I love kids…"

Stan felt sick. He knew. He knew too well, having once discovered his collection of photographs and videos. He knew exactly what Rico had in mind and just the thought of what Rico would do to his kids filled him with blind rage. He let out a guttural cry and jumped to his feet, lunging at Rico with murder in his eyes.

A shot rang out and Stan stopped mid-lunge, fiery white-hot pain ripping through his chest. He gasped in shock, the pain knocking him to his knees. Rico laughed, as Stan grasped at the wound on his chest, blood spilling out between his fingers as he weakly slumped forward, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. Rico knelt in front of him, looking him in the eyes, holding up the photograph, "I know me and these kids are going to have so much fun while I await payment. Remember: your debt is now their debt."

Stan spit in his face, blood and saliva dripping down Rico's nose and cheek.

Rico casually wiped it away, "As always Stan, pleasure doing business with you."

With that he gave Stan a light shove and Stan fell onto his back, clutching his chest, writhing on the ground in pain, blood filling his lungs.

No, no…this couldn't be it. He always expected that he would probably die a violent death, but he couldn't die like this. Not like this. He had to get up, he had to power through the pain and warn Ford, protect the kids...save them…

He made one feeble attempt to get up but the pain was too much for him and he choked up blood as he groaned in agony, collapsing to the ground. He could vaguely hear them starting to walk away, but everything around him was fading. His vision dimmed he gasped weakly for air, but the blood filling his lungs and spilling from his mouth made each breath a painful and futile effort.

As he slipped into darkness, gasping his final breaths the last thought that crossed his mind was his family. Ford, Dipper, Mabel and Soos and Wendy…all he could think about was them and how he much he failed them. In his last moment of consciousness, he prayed for their protection.

Everything faded to black. Stan went limp and still, his eyes slid shut and his laboured breaths ceased while his heart slowed to a stop.

-/\-

A moment passed and suddenly Stan's eyes opened, but a different set of eyes looked through them.

"Well, well, well, isn't this interesting."

A/N Did I really just do that? Yes. Yes I did. But the story is not over though. Trust me. Also, please leave a review! I would love to know what you think! :-)