Stan swallows when that big, solid hand closes around his, and he stares down at those six fingers. Then he swallows again, hard, and he doesn't look up at that familiar face, not even when there's a hand at the back of his head too and, hey, turns out he's got a few bruises on his head somewhere because having those six fingers all in his hair and pulling just a little at his scalp like that sorta' hurts, is that somethin' a hallucination oughta' be able to do?
He doesn't look up then either, he just closes his eyes, kinda' squeezes them shut, and he takes a breath for a second, smells gas, smells real, wide-open air, finds himself looking for that moldy, sweaty, BO smell, the smell of his own sweaty pits mixed with the smell of the blood he's leavin' on the inside of that trunk-
He just smells open air. He smells the reassuring smell of nothing in particular and hears that unsettling sound of his brother's smooth, comforting voice and he holds himself still just for a second, he feels the hair trying to raise up on his arms and wonders if he's gonna' have bald patches there once he's all healed up, he wonders how much of that thick Pines body hair he lost along with all that road rash. He opens his eyes just enough to look down at his lap and he shivers once and his head gives a throb and he thinks about that, tries not to think about his brother down in front of him, down on one knee, fuckin' holding his hand and everything.
"You look like you're about to propose, you know that?" Maybe he coulda' made his voice sound casual if he really tried, or maybe he couldn't have, but it's getting harder to believe that 'night out to remember' he was just talking about is actually gonna' happen so he's only half assing the whole sound-casual thing and it dips in and out of his voice, the words oughta' sound amused and that's what his tone's sort of reaching for but it don't ever really stay there. "I don't know, Ford, I'll wear your ring but I never looked all that good in white."
"You know what I believe? I believe my brother's gonna' get that-" Tell him, tell him, there's nothing you can't tell him when he's not real, I kept up with you, I kept after you, I called that school and asked 'em how you were doing, once a year I called 'em because I, god, Ford I- "He's gonna' get that twelfth degree of his and then I'll, um, it might be a little while before I got enough to show for myself to make it work but um, once I do, any day now, then things'll be- But you know how, if you try to make good on a plan too early you just end up run outta' town with nothin' to show for it but a couple warrants and an empty gas tank, right, that's why- It's just I can't let the high wear off yet. It's been on its way out for a while but it's too early, I- Not like this. It's not that I don't trust you, I just don't um, I don't- just don't feel too bad, okay, it's too early to let it wear off yet, that's all. Not like this."
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He doesn't look up then either, he just closes his eyes, kinda' squeezes them shut, and he takes a breath for a second, smells gas, smells real, wide-open air, finds himself looking for that moldy, sweaty, BO smell, the smell of his own sweaty pits mixed with the smell of the blood he's leavin' on the inside of that trunk-
He just smells open air. He smells the reassuring smell of nothing in particular and hears that unsettling sound of his brother's smooth, comforting voice and he holds himself still just for a second, he feels the hair trying to raise up on his arms and wonders if he's gonna' have bald patches there once he's all healed up, he wonders how much of that thick Pines body hair he lost along with all that road rash. He opens his eyes just enough to look down at his lap and he shivers once and his head gives a throb and he thinks about that, tries not to think about his brother down in front of him, down on one knee, fuckin' holding his hand and everything.
"You look like you're about to propose, you know that?" Maybe he coulda' made his voice sound casual if he really tried, or maybe he couldn't have, but it's getting harder to believe that 'night out to remember' he was just talking about is actually gonna' happen so he's only half assing the whole sound-casual thing and it dips in and out of his voice, the words oughta' sound amused and that's what his tone's sort of reaching for but it don't ever really stay there. "I don't know, Ford, I'll wear your ring but I never looked all that good in white."
"You know what I believe? I believe my brother's gonna' get that-" Tell him, tell him, there's nothing you can't tell him when he's not real, I kept up with you, I kept after you, I called that school and asked 'em how you were doing, once a year I called 'em because I, god, Ford I- "He's gonna' get that twelfth degree of his and then I'll, um, it might be a little while before I got enough to show for myself to make it work but um, once I do, any day now, then things'll be- But you know how, if you try to make good on a plan too early you just end up run outta' town with nothin' to show for it but a couple warrants and an empty gas tank, right, that's why- It's just I can't let the high wear off yet. It's been on its way out for a while but it's too early, I- Not like this. It's not that I don't trust you, I just don't um, I don't- just don't feel too bad, okay, it's too early to let it wear off yet, that's all. Not like this."