Last chapter, everyone!

I want to take this time to thank everyone who has read this. It means a lot to me that you did.

I gotta say, it's hard to believe that I wrote over 40,000 words in a couple of weeks, and that I wrote over 70,000 words over the span of under two months. I think that's the most I've ever written in such a short amount of time.

Anyway, this chapter is mostly about wrapping everything up. Dealing with the name issue, as well as everything else. The reason I'm posting this so late is because I spent the last hour editing this chapter, so hopefully you all will like it.

Now, I'm thinking of perhaps editing this whole story, as well as The Life of Pines. I'd change some things, add some more details; things that would make the story flow better. It won't be for a little while, maybe once school has died down a bit, but I thought I'd mention so that if anyone reads this again, they won't get confused when little details change.

Also, I'm gonna have to put a halt on the one shots for a little while. I've got a lot going on in my life, what with school, family, and health issues, so while I've got two one-shots partially written, I don't know if I'll be able to finish them anytime soon. I'll make sure to add a little notification to this story when I get around to posting the one shots. Question though: Would you prefer them to be put into one story, like a collection of one-shots, or would you prefer them all to be individual? I don't mind either way, so if you have a preference, just tell me, either in a comment/review or in a Private Message.

Last thing. If anyone was curious, or if anyone wanted to ask me questions not here on AO3/FF . net, I do have a Tumblr. My URL is SpikeisAwesome456 (reference to Buffy the Vampire Slayer), if anyone wants to look me up.

Now, onto the story! Remember to review/comment!

~~~We won, or we think we did~~~
~~~When you went away, you were just a kid~~~
~~~And if you lost it all- and you lost it- ~~~
~~~Well at least the war is over~~~
~~~Lift your head and look out the window~~~
~~~Stay that way for the rest of the day and watch the time go~~~
~~~Listen! The birds sing! Listen! The bells ring!~~~

-In Our Bedroom After the War, Stars

He stared after the bus, waving towards the children who were sitting in the back row, frantically waving back out of the bus window.

Sixty years old and melancholy, Stanford continued standing by the bus stop, even after the bus was out of view, only moving when his twin turned and left abruptly. Following his brother, he tried not to let the sadness affect him too much.

It had been a wild and insane summer. Not to mention tiring. So much had happened in a few short weeks; he still hadn't wrapped his mind around it.

It was a shock to him that Bill was gone. Forever. They had managed to find a way to trap the demon back in his hell dimension, fixing the tear in the universe in the process. And while most of him felt relieved that Bill was gone, he was ashamed to admit that a part of him would actually miss the triangle. No matter how twisted and evil the demon had turned out to be, at one point Bill had been his friend. And the old, nostalgic part of him would miss the friendship they had. But it was only a small part, a part so insignificant he didn't even bother acknowledging it. Especially not after what Bill had done to his great niece and nephew. After what he had almost done to his brother.

However, probably the worst part of the summer, outside of nearly dying at the hands of an old friend, was seeing what had happened to Fiddleford. It had pained him greatly to see what the brilliant man had been reduced to. An old, homeless, and crazy man who hadn't even been able to recognize him that first meeting. He was not ashamed to admit that he had broken down upon seeing the shell of his friend, not caring that his family had been beside him. He had known that Fiddleford had gone insane, but seeing the degree of insanity that the once brilliant man was infected with… well, it had been too much. The twins and Stanley had been concerned, but he had been unable to fully explain why it hurt so much; unable to explain just how much guilt he felt. But by the understanding way the three of them had looked at him once he had finally contained himself, he thinks they understood. Fiddleford, on the other hand, hadn't understood. But, from what his brother told him, Fiddleford didn't understand much nowadays. It was heart breaking, but he vowed that one day he'd restore Fiddleford to his former glory. The man didn't deserve to live like this because of his mistakes.

And then, on top of all of that, there was the problems he still had with his brother. Living with his brother after everything had been hard. Even after their step forward, even after they had called their silent truce, tension remained. Stanford tried not to feel it, tried to ignore it, but it was always there. And sometimes, when the days were bad and his mind played tricks on him, he couldn't keep it all contained and would snap at his twin, causing a minor argument to happen. It didn't help that he profoundly disapproved of his brother's business habits. Seeing his twin scam people, watching as he took their money with glee… It was concerning. His brother was better than that. He only wished his twin saw that. Not to mention that he was doing it all under his name.

And that was another problem. No matter how much time had passed, no matter how comfortable he had become, he still wanted his life back. His name back. Hearing people call his twin Stanford, not being able to go out of the house for fear that someone would demand what was going on… it was taking its toll on him. Existing but not technically existing was frustrating. He just wanted things to go back to normal.

However… however, he also didn't want to lose his brother. He didn't want to kick Stanley out, not after everything that had happened. But he didn't know what he could do; Stanley Pines was dead and they couldn't both be Stanford. How could they possibly make things right? How could they fix this mess that his brother had put them in?

He didn't know. But as he followed his twin inside the 'Shack,' walking into the living room and sitting down at the table, he knew that he had to try. He couldn't lose his twin, not after everything they had been through that summer. Not after almost losing him to Bill. He couldn't.

The silence between them, though, was thick and awkward. Like it tended to be around them nowadays, whenever the twins weren't around. He tried to think of something to say, but he honestly didn't know what. What could he say? Where did he start? How could he try and make amends when he still felt his fair share of anger and hurt towards his twin? How exactly did he encompass that while he may still be angry at the man, he also didn't want him to leave? That he wanted them to fix things, gradually, with the time they had left in this world? He just didn't know, and he could practically feel the silence stretch as he tried to come up with the right words.

He let out a sigh after a moment, picking absently at the sweater that Mabel had made for him a couple weeks ago, looking at the dark fabric. It was a dark maroon color, similar to the shade of his journals, with a golden six finger hand skillfully knitted into the center. When the girl had first presented it to him, he had felt his heart swell. It was touching, that the girl would make him something personal. He had even given the girl a small hug, something he rarely ever did since that much physical contact still made him tense up after his time in the multiverse. The girl had simply grinned up at him and said it was no problem, but he still made sure to wear it as often as he could. He noticed that his twin did the same with his 'World's Greatest Grunkle' sweater. He still recalled the expression on Stanley's face when the girl had presented the gift to his brother, a look of awe and wonder, like his twin couldn't believe that his great niece would make something like that for him. When the girl had worriedly asked him if he minded the words, he had made sure to smile and tell her that he didn't mind being second in this case. After all, anything that made his twin smile like that was fine with him.

He looked up a second later, taken from his absent thoughts when he heard his twin speak.

"So." His brother started, before trailing off, clearly as lost as he was as to where to start. It made sense; while the two had their minor truce, they were still light years from what they used to be. How could they possibly mend the bridge from the ashes? How could they make amends when so much anger still lived in them both? Because he had no doubt that Stanley was still angry and hurt from his actions all those years ago, from leaving him behind without a backwards glance. How did they make that hurt go away? He didn't know, but hopefully allowing his twin to stay would be a good place to start.

"So." He replied, before also stopping. He shifted awkwardly, trying to come up with the right words, trying to ignore the deafening silence that the twin's absence caused in this worn down old house. It honestly shouldn't hurt as much, seeing as how he had only known them a scant month, but he felt their absence keenly as the silence stretched. Part of him wanted to just go into his room (which he had finally gotten back from Soos, the large gopher man) and simply sleep the day away, to worry about everything tomorrow. But he couldn't. He needed to make sure his brother knew his plan.

It was after another minute had passed that he realized he had to just go out and say it. There was no beating around the bush, no sweetening the pot. He just had to rip it off, like a Band-Aid.

"Look, Stanley… clearly, we need to talk." He stated, watching as his brother jerked back, clearly startled from the sudden noise. Stanley then turned to face him slowly, anxiety and muted fear clear on his face as he nodded. Stanford could see how scared he was, but he needed to speak these words. He needed to make sure his brother understood, completely.

"I want my name back." He claimed, looking at his brother intently and watching as the man's face crumbled. God this was unpleasant, but he needed to power through. "I want my house back. I want my life back. That much has not changed over the past month."

"However," He interjected before his brother could say something, the man's face too blank for him to not have come up with the wrong conclusion, "I do not want you to leave. I... I understand that this is your life. It would be cruel of me to take it from you. So, we need to come up with a solution. An answer that will allow me my life back, but will also allow you to stay. Luckily, I've come up with a few ideas…"

He watched, for a second, as his brother's face brightened and as that look of awe and wonder was painted on his face. God, it was like looking at a picture, a snapshot from their youth. The wrinkles and grey hair did nothing to change the look his brother got whenever Stanford did something that he deemed unexpected. It made him long for those childhood days, when the simplest of gestures could cause that look to form, but he forced himself to get his head out of the clouds. He had some half formed ideas to explain.

To be honest, none of the ideas he had were very good. Honestly, brainwashing the whole town into thinking that Stanley had been Stanley all along, the man never having taken over his name, and instead had simply been watching over the house for him while he had been away on a thirty year long trip around the world? Definitely not one of his better plans. But what else could they do? How else could they fix their name and identity problem without having his brother be sent to jail for identity theft? He continued to ramble off the half-baked ideas he had thought up over the past two-three weeks, each getting more and more far-fetched as they went on, until he ran out of words. He watched as his brother looked him in the eye and began to speak.

"Or, we could always just tell a version of the truth." What? He was about to interject, wondering if his brother had lost his mind (Stanley, wanting to tell the truth? Something must be wrong) but was stopped when his brother held up a hand. "Look, I've lived in this town for long enough to know how stupid they all are, especially the cops. If we go down to Town Hall and tell them a dumbed down version of what happened, we could get our name situation sorted out, get all my crimes I did under your name put back under my own, resurrect me from the dead… it would work, they're stupid enough to do it. Yeah, it'd take a lotta work, but it'd be a lot simpler than any of your bright ideas. And, if it doesn't work, you can just mind control everyone." His brother finished with a careless shrug.

It was insane. It was preposterous. It would never, in a million years work. But… his brother sounded so sure. He considered it, contemplating the mechanics of the plan. Well, it certainly was simple. It was just like Stanley to come up with a plan so simple, and yet so complicated. While yes, he supposed it had the possibility of working, there were so many things that could go wrong. Such as if his brother was wrong and the police did decide to arrest him. But…

"Do you really think it would work?" He asked, frowning as he continued to work everything out. Perhaps if they… and then, if city hall… but what if… He was jolted out of his thoughts when his twin bumped casually against his shoulder, so quick he doubted Stanley even noticed that he had done it.

"Trust me, it'd work. Just leave the talking to me and I'll get everything sorted." His brother claimed, a charming grin on his face, though Stanford could see the cracks in it, like his twin expected him to deny him the trust. Well, it was asking a lot, considering everything that had happened between them, but nearly losing his brother made him realize that life was too short to hold a grudge. Besides, even after everything, he found that he did still trust his twin.

And so, he simply nodded and said, "Alright Stan, if you think it'll work. I trust you."

He watched as his brother stared at him open mouthed, nodding absently in shock. With a shy smile, Stanford decided that he better leave now, before anything happened to ruin this moment. He left the room briskly and headed down to the lab, wanted to be alone for a while. Maybe he'd even be able to work on some projects that didn't revolve around Bill and his evil plans, for once.

Once in the lab, though, all he could do was stare at the pictures he kept on his desk. He smiled bittersweetly as he picked up the picture of the twins smiling up at the camera, a photo he had found shattered on the ground while cleaning up his lab. He assumed it was his brother's, but he had yet to return it to the man, preferring to keep it as his own little memento. It made his heart ache, remembering that the two were no longer there, but it was a nice reminder of them. To be able to see their smiling faces every day. He understood why his brother would keep it down here with him.

He then put the picture down and picked up the other, far older one that his brother had gifted him a week ago. He smiled as he saw his and his brother's younger selves, grinning innocently at the camera, no clue that in only a few short years something would happen that would tear them apart forever. So innocent and naïve they were. It made him yearn for a time things were that good. When the only problem he and his brother had was what type of wood they would need for the Stan O' War. Things were so simple back then, not messy and complicated like things were now.

He sighed, heart heavy, as he set that one down as well. He then leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling, letting out a mirthless chuckle while running a hand through his bushy hair.

He hoped that he and his brother were able to work everything out. He missed his twin, his best friend, more than he could say. He needed to know that they could work things out, that they could become friends again. After everything that had happened in his life, he needed his brother's friendship more than anything. But things were looking up, now that they had their tentative plans. He could feel some of the previous doubts he had had disappear, though a bunch still remained. It was a rough plan, but it might just work. He just had to try and keep positive.

Deciding that he would be unable to work on anything with his mind racing, Stanford instead took out a journal, different to his three research Journals that he had gifted Dipper. This one was white with no design in the center, as he had yet to come up with one. Opening the journal, he then started to write everything down that had happened that day. It seemed that one thing that helped him deal with his emotions was seeing them written down. So, even though it made him feel a bit silly, he made sure to write in his new journal at least once every few days. In his writing, he tried to understand what he was feeling, understand what his brother was feeling. It was difficult; he had never really understood how humans worked. He was more a science guy, not an emotions guy. But he also didn't want to ever explode again. He didn't want to hurt his brother. So, for Stanley- and for his own peace of mind- he would try.

Once done, he closed the journal and sat back, sighing and running a hand through his hair once more.

Things were difficult now. He knew that. After all, he was still recovering from everything he had gone through. He technically didn't exist. He and Stanley were still broken, even if they were mending slowly. He had no idea what to do about Fiddleford. He missed the children with an intense ache.

But he would survive. He was working on healing himself, and it seemed to be working. He and Stanley would sort out their name problems soon. Things would get fixed things between him and his brother, somehow. He would heal Fiddleford as best he could, perhaps by building a machine that could reverse his insanity. And, he would content himself to seeing the children next summer, or perhaps for Chanukah or Yom Kippur.

Things would get better. Time healed all wounds, after all.

And that would have to be good enough.

Epilogue:

He sat down on the couch beside his brother, talking about a project he was working on, explaining in detail the difficult process he had went through to create it. He knew his brother wasn't listening, but he didn't care. Sometimes it was nice to get his ideas out, and it was less insane to tell it to a real person than to just ramble to himself down in his lab.

Sixty one years old and content, he switched his focus from his words to the children who were playing out in the lawn, smiling as he saw the game they were playing. He didn't quite get the point of the game, but as long as they were having fun, he supposed it didn't matter. It was nice to see, a bit of innocence after everything that had happened. However, even as he watched them, he could feel his thoughts sour somewhat as he thought about the past year, when they hadn't been there.

The last year had been difficult for him. Living after the multiverse, dealing with the problems after that… it was hard. Not to mention the tooth-pulling process of getting his name back. It had taken Stanley over three months to convince the town hall that he was, in fact, not Stanford Pines and was instead Stanley Pines. The paperwork and the meetings with lawyers had been exhausting.

There was also the fact that he sometimes forgot where he was and thought that he was back in the multiverse, or even back in the void. There had been times he would be working in the lab and then something would remind him of a battle he had fought, and he was left clutching the counter or the table, doing his best to get his breathing under control even as panic filled his heart.

And the nightmares… oh, the nightmares. There were some nights that he would wake up screaming, his mind full of horror and pain and fear. He'd forget completely where he was, convinced that he was still lost. During those times, Lee would come rushing in and do his best to get him to calm down. It had taken a while for his twin to get the comforting thing down right (that first time his brother had completely freaked out, even going as far as calling for an ambulance to come) and to stop pestering him for details that he still could not give, but his brother had gotten better over the past year. Now he would simply sit with him, a comforting hand resting lightly between his shoulders as he reassured Stanford that he was there, that he was safe now. He didn't think that Lee knew how much that helped him. It was still a horrifying thing to go through, though, having to deal with his mind creating unimaginable horrors. It had made things so much more difficult for him. Made it harder to deal with reality.

He had also fought with his twin a lot. Nothing too major, but minor squabbles that stuck in mind for days. Words that had been said with the sole intension of hurting the other. Yes, they always made up after, actually apologizing more often than not, but it still hurt. To hear his brother say such ugly things to him; to hear himself say such ugly things to his brother. To watch as his brother storm out of the house, fury and pain written on his face. It had gotten less and less frequent as the year passed, but each moment stuck in his mind like glue.

However… even with the nightmares and all the bad things that had went on, he supposed that there was some good that had happened. Like how he had managed to help Fiddleford out a bit. While he had been unable to invent a machine that would fix his friend's mind, like he had originally hoped, he had been able to spend time with the man. To be a friendly face that would ground him. It had been hard, watching as one of his best friends broke down and cried because he couldn't remember, but he had stuck through it. After all, he understood everything that Fiddleford was going through. Losing one's mind was never an easy thing to get over, but he wouldn't rest until his friend was better. And it was heartening that it seemed to be working. With every day that passed, during the hour that he set aside each day to visit Fiddleford, he could see his friend improve. Could see him remember more and more.

Another good thing, he supposed, was that he and his brother had gotten over a lot of their issues. Their fights, while bad, did lead to them sorting their issues out. They would actually speak to one another after they had cooled down, talking rationally about how the fight had effected them, as well as any other issue they had. They even spoke about how they felt, something they had never bothered to do as children. It was hard, especially since Lee had always been visually uncomfortable while doing it, but it helped. To not bury everything, to get things out into the open. It made him understand his twin better, and he felt that it helped his twin understand him better. He wasn't sure which of them had decided that they needed to speak after each fight, though he thought that it might have been both of them, both knowing that it was something that needed to be done.

And, yet another good thing was the fact that he had managed to restart his Journals. He would go out and wander the woods sometimes, exploring the more tame creatures that lived in there. He couldn't deal with the bigger ones, not without having a mild panic attack, but the little ones he was fine with. He would even bring his brother out with him sometimes, exploring like they had when they were kids. He had to admit that it was familiar and nice.

He also spent a lot of his time inventing. Down in his lab, working on projects that had been floating around inside his head for years while he had been wandering. He created useful things, and frivolous things, and downright bizarre things. But it made him feel normal. Like things were normal.

There were also times that he helped his brother out with his 'business' sometimes, when he felt up to it. He still didn't approve of scamming people, but it made him feel better that his brother had allowed him to actually teach the tourists something, so it wasn't a complete scam. He would explain about the supernatural and would show them drawings he had created, as well as teaching them about science and math. The tourists seemed to like it, always leaving with smiles on their faces, which made him feel glad. At least he was helping the world learn somewhat, even if it was just a handful of tourists. So he guessed that was good.

And now, now it was summer again. A whole year since he had returned. The twin were back, their laughter and happiness filling the Shack once more. That had made things infinitely better. His nightmares had faded somewhat with their presence, not being as fierce as they had been. His brother had only had to rush to his room once in the past three weeks, which was a record.

So things weren't as bad as they could have been, he supposed as he watched the children play. And at the very least, he wasn't still trapped, lost in the multiverse. No matter how many troubles he had while adjusting here on Earth, it was still infinitely better than if his twin had never brought him back.

He was pulled out of him thoughts when he started to notice just how dark it had become. He took a glance at his watch and noticed that it was nearing seven in the evening, a half hour past the time they usually ate dinner. It surprised him a bit, having not noticed the time passing. However, he supposed it made sense that he hadn't noticed. While he had gotten better at noticing time, he still sometimes let it get away from him, hours passing without his notice.

He turned to his twin, who was wearing a soft smile while his eyes tracked the children.

"Stanley, don't you think it's getting a bit late? We should probably have dinner soon." He said, watching as his twin startled out of his reverie and looked around at the darkening lawn. Lee then nodded his agreement and stood up with a soft grunt of discomfort.

"Kids! Time for dinner! Get your butts in here or I'm not feeding you." Lee yelled out to the two children, who both stopped their game and rushed over, large grins on their face. He noticed that his niece's pet pig had followed the two, looking up at him with a small oink. He smiled down at the thing awkwardly, never quite sure what to make of it but acknowledging that he was Mabel's favorite thing in the whole world, and thus doing his best to be kind to him. And it wasn't like the pig was that hard to like. He was cute, Stanford supposed.

Looking back up at his family, he saw that his brother and the twins were heading inside. He then followed after them, the pig waddling along after him. Entering the kitchen, he took his usual seat at the table and briefly looked over at his twin, who was currently setting out some water to boil. While his twin wasn't the best cook, he was infinitely better than Stanford ever had been. He was certain that if it hadn't been for Fiddleford and canned food, he would have starved within a month of arriving at college.

Though, he had to admit, the food his brother used to favor had left something to desire. While he was glad to simply get any food, after years of having to fight for each meal, it had confused him as to why his twin purposely chose lower quality foods when they had the money to buy better kinds. Upon learning that it was because his twin had spent those ten years they had been apart constantly on the brink of starvation, he had felt horrified. After all, he knew what it was like to live that way, and he had never wanted that for Lee. So, after learning that, he decided to take up the grocery shopping, choosing mostly name brand foods that looked interesting. Things that they both deserved to eat after everything.

While waiting for the food to finish cooking, he decided to tell tales of his and Lee's adventures over the year to the children to bide the time. He settled on explaining the time the two of them had gotten trapped in a cave while searching for a creature that hated light, but had magical healing abilities. He made sure to embellish the details, like his brother had always told him when they were younger, doing his best to make the arguably boring tale sound like an amazing adventure. Judging by the enraptured way that the children were staring at him, and the soft, proud smirk that that Lee gave him when he turned from the stove to listen, he assumed he was doing pretty well.

Once dinner was ready, he took a bit of the pasta his brother had set out in the center of the table, smirking as he watched the children attacked the food with an almost alarming ferocity. Ah, age thirteen. He remembered that year well. The year he had become a 'man,' gaining a lot of awkward habits and body hair with it. Honestly, he did not miss that age whatsoever.

During dinner, Stanford listened to the twins as they argued about some creature they had found in the woods, Dipper claiming it was a pixie while Mabel insisted it was a fairy. He added his input occasionally, but mostly just let the two debate amongst themselves, knowing that it was a simple, friendly debate, not a full on argument or anything. If it did go too far, he knew that either he or his brother would intervene. While the twins debated, Stanford would occasionally look at his twin and smile at the content look he saw on Lee's face.

They had come a long way over the past year. Things were not perfect between them, and he had the feeling they never would be. He would always harbor some negative feelings towards his twin, just like he was sure Lee would always harbor some negative feelings towards him. Nothing would ever make that go away. But as long as they focused on the good, they could move past it. He knew they could.

So while there was a lot of bad still in his life, he had to admit he was happy. Sitting here with his family, listening to the twins argue playfully and watching his twin look so at peace, he could feel his heart swelling with content.

And that was more than he could ever have hoped for.