Stan's posture loosens and his smile widens a little in relief. That's not exactly an 'I believe you' but Stan don't get much of that these days anyway. At this point in his life not being blamed for shit feels almost like the same thing as being believed, especially when the person saying it ain't even annoyed about it. So that's okay.
He slouches against the wall, his smile going playful and the relief making him forget to watch his mouth as close as he's been trying to. He huffs a laugh.
"Like hell I'd wanna' break out of a place like that twice." He pushes off from the wall, speaking over his shoulder before he heads out to his car to get the goods. "I mean, I'd have to sneak in and get you out after five minutes, you know that right? That kinda' shithole can't handle the guys who are supposed to be there, no way they could handle you."
He gives his brother a two-fingered wave. "I'll just be a minute."
After about five or maybe ten-ish minutes he's back and spreads across the comforter an array of pill bottles. All look very neat and official, and some of that even holds up when you look at 'em close. Most of 'em even have insides that match their labels except for a couple that, in context, obviously won't. Probably Ford doesn't have much use for, say, allergy medication, or whatever. "I brought more than just downers 'cause uh, I don't know what Mr. Asshat From The Great Beyond is doin' to your head, exactly, so figured you'd know more than me about what might help."
no subject
He slouches against the wall, his smile going playful and the relief making him forget to watch his mouth as close as he's been trying to. He huffs a laugh.
"Like hell I'd wanna' break out of a place like that twice." He pushes off from the wall, speaking over his shoulder before he heads out to his car to get the goods. "I mean, I'd have to sneak in and get you out after five minutes, you know that right? That kinda' shithole can't handle the guys who are supposed to be there, no way they could handle you."
He gives his brother a two-fingered wave. "I'll just be a minute."
After about five or maybe ten-ish minutes he's back and spreads across the comforter an array of pill bottles. All look very neat and official, and some of that even holds up when you look at 'em close. Most of 'em even have insides that match their labels except for a couple that, in context, obviously won't. Probably Ford doesn't have much use for, say, allergy medication, or whatever. "I brought more than just downers 'cause uh, I don't know what Mr. Asshat From The Great Beyond is doin' to your head, exactly, so figured you'd know more than me about what might help."