Okay, okay. Stan is cooperating. Things are going good. He just has to keep him distracted, keep him talking even though every other word out of Stan's mouth makes his stomach twist.
He's got this. He's got this situation under control. He is definitely, definitely not just hanging on by the skin of his teeth and hoping that will somehow be enough to keep this house of cards that is his fucking life from collapsing in on itself.
He flashes Stan a small, tight smile that he almost doesn't have to force and tries his damnedest to look encouraging, like someone who Stan could have even the slightest bit of confidence in.
"I don't think that's going to be a problem, Stanley."
Or at least he sure hopes it isn't, but if he can pretend for at least a little while that they have one less massive problem on their plate then maybe he can actually get them through this clusterfuck of a situation with his nerves intact.
"But just in case, why don't you keep an eye on the rear-view for me? Watch my six?"
Just like when they were kids, pretending to be soldiers or explorers or some other daring pair of adventures who were in way over their heads. Just like that, only this time the danger is real and they can't just avoid it by deciding they don't want to play anymore.
"The closest motel is about thirty minutes away, twenty if we ignore the speed limit a little. Think you can stay up that long?"
It's not a necessity, really, it's probably not even something that needs to be done at all, but if it helps Stan relax and it gives him something to do, to keep himself distracted, then Ford has no qualms with playing along and pretending it's important. Besides, having a task might help keep him awake, and Ford would very much rather be able to drive without having to take his eyes off the road every three seconds to make sure his brother is still breathing.
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He's got this. He's got this situation under control. He is definitely, definitely not just hanging on by the skin of his teeth and hoping that will somehow be enough to keep this house of cards that is his fucking life from collapsing in on itself.
He flashes Stan a small, tight smile that he almost doesn't have to force and tries his damnedest to look encouraging, like someone who Stan could have even the slightest bit of confidence in.
"I don't think that's going to be a problem, Stanley."
Or at least he sure hopes it isn't, but if he can pretend for at least a little while that they have one less massive problem on their plate then maybe he can actually get them through this clusterfuck of a situation with his nerves intact.
"But just in case, why don't you keep an eye on the rear-view for me? Watch my six?"
Just like when they were kids, pretending to be soldiers or explorers or some other daring pair of adventures who were in way over their heads. Just like that, only this time the danger is real and they can't just avoid it by deciding they don't want to play anymore.
"The closest motel is about thirty minutes away, twenty if we ignore the speed limit a little. Think you can stay up that long?"
It's not a necessity, really, it's probably not even something that needs to be done at all, but if it helps Stan relax and it gives him something to do, to keep himself distracted, then Ford has no qualms with playing along and pretending it's important. Besides, having a task might help keep him awake, and Ford would very much rather be able to drive without having to take his eyes off the road every three seconds to make sure his brother is still breathing.