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In... out... in... out. Ford breathed slowly, following his tried and true rhythm. It had been a little while since he'd had a good, calm break from his thoughts. Just a little further, and then--
Knock knock. "Grunkle Ford?"
"Mmh?" he mumbled, "Come in."
Mabel opened the door, Ford rubbing his eyes blearily as he shifted to the edge of his bed. Looks like that break would have to wait just a little longer. "What do you need?" he asked with a smile, patting beside him.
She gladly took her seat beside him, a sad glint in her eyes. "I was wondering, um..." she fidgeted, thumbing over her sleeve. "Do you... do you know anything that'll just, make me a girl forever?"
He furrowed his brow, "What do you mean?"
"It's- um... W-well, you know how I'm... 'I', yeah?"
He nodded, "Of course."
She swallowed nervously, "Sometimes- sometimes I think my body doesn't even know what it's actually trying to do. I just..." she sniffled, "None of the other girls have to worry about this stuff. And Mom, she- she never wanted... this."
"Oh, Mabel..."
"I'm like- like a fake girl. And I'd be a fake boy, too. But sometimes she wishes I would just try to be a boy, because- because I can't be the girl she wanted," she swallowed thickly, starting to cry. "P-please, isn't there- isn't there something that'll fix me?"
...A question he had asked in his own childhood, for as much as his family tried to convince him that his extra fingers were gifts - not different, but special. How his mother would press gentle kisses to his hands when he was feeling especially distraught, promising him he was perfect the way he was. He took a deep breath, slightly shaky on the exhale.
"...What's got you thinking about it today?" he asked, offering her his hand to squeeze for comfort.
"It's- it's something Candy's mom said... she doesn't even know. So if I could just, fix it, then- then I wouldn't have to worry about it."
"Hmm..." he hummed. "Why is it that you have to fix your body, and not that other people have to fix their point of view?"
She whined softly, shaking her head. "That's not how it works..."
"But changing your body isn't so simple, either," he answered with a sigh. "Even if I knew of something for you, I don't know that it would hold once you left Gravity Falls."
"I could- I could just use it here, s-so at least Candy's mom never has to find out-"
"I wouldn't want to tamper with your body in that way, Mabel, temporary or not," he said firmly. "Hormonal imbalances are risky, forcing your body into new shapes is risky - even surgery is risky, and that's entirely mundane."
"It's not fair!" she cried, flopping back on Ford's bed. "I just- I just want my body to do the things I want, and not... whatever this is."
"Ah, well..." he grunted, leaning back to join her in staring at the ceiling. "May I share something of my own?"
"I guess," she sniffled.
He smiled, "When I was young... no, our parents didn't always know what to do either. But they concluded, I was 'different' for a reason. Our mother especially tried to teach Stan and I that differences were gifts. Of course, my fingers don't have innate magical powers," he chuckled, "But think about it. How different would my life be if I had been 'normal'? Stan and I wouldn't be here - you might have never gotten to meet us. In fact, I suppose... I might have never met him again, myself, after our father kicked him out. There would be so much I would have never really thought about, never sought out, never looked to record."
"That's not to say that this life has been a walk in the park, of course - far from it. People have been cruel to me, colouring my nightmares since I was young. And when certain things only come in five-fingered forms, well... It sure makes winters a lot less comfortable, and the handling of hazardous materials even more risky. But in a way, those serve as their own valuable lessons... Finding your own way to do things, to say that you exist and you're going to have your place in the world, even if you have to carve it out yourself. And as more and more people do that... the safer it becomes to be different, don't you think?"
"But I don't- I don't want to have to do that... I want to not have to fight, not have to try so hard."
"I know," he answered, "But you're not alone in this. So, can I ask you to think about some things that might be different in your life, if you were 'just a normal girl'?"
"Well..." she sighed. "I dunno, I guess... I think Mom taught me a lot of the women's stuff that she did because... it'd make me better at being a girl, o-or something. So I might not have grown up with a lot of the skills that I have now. Less arts, less fun... and maybe I'd be worse at sticking up for myself? But- but I also just... I don't think our parents would fight so much i-if I was. And things at home would be a lot better, then... even if it would mean never meeting you."
He nodded sadly. "Fighting... What does your father think?"
"I mean..." she fidgeted, "He doesn't... agree with Mom, about me trying to be a boy. I've been a girl all this time, and- and I like it. Dad says that's the important part, even if my body is kind of making it harder."
"I think he's right," he smiled softly, turning his head to look at her. "There's no one else who can be you. And your body, even for the ways it frustrates you, allows you to eat the things you love, make all the art you want to make, play all the games you want to play. To live life in this world. That's special, isn't it?"
She rolled onto her side, eyes welling up with a fresh round of tears. She babbled through them, trembling, as Ford soothingly thumbed over her cheek, whispering the reassurances his mother had always given him. Special. Beautiful. Perfect as you are. A blessing on the world. Gently, he sat the two of them up, letting her scrabble into his arms for a proper, much-needed hug.
"I know I can't fix everything," he said, "But you wouldn't want me to be ashamed of my polydactyly, right?"
"Right..."
"Well, I don't want you to be ashamed of your intersexuality. So I promise, I'll do everything within my power to bring you some peace. And if your mother is really so worried about how you'll 'make it' being different... Tell her to take it up with me. Her worries shouldn't have to be your burden."
"You- you mean it?"
"Absolutely," he nodded.
"I-I love you, Grunkle Ford," she stammered out, "So, so, so much..."
He patted her back gently, answering, "I love you too, Mabel. Never forget that."