If Stan thinks Ford doesn't notice the way his smile fades when his eyes turn to his throat, he has another thing coming.
He notices. Lord, does he notice. How can he not? It's been so long since he's seen his brother smile - of course he would be painfully aware of anything that took it away. The damage has already been done, but Ford still finds himself rubbing self-consciously at the side of his neck anyway in a lame attempt to cover the dips and raised edges that have Stan so shaken.
He watches from the doorway as his brother tries to distract himself with mindless busywork, not wanting to get too close lest he give him the opportunity to catch another glimpse of the other-worldly writing carved into his skin. Ford tries to think of the positives, counts himself lucky that at the very least Stan doesn't know what those symbols actually mean. Something tells him if he did, he'd be far more livid than he is now.
Considering how shaken up Stan already is, making him angry on top of everything else is the last thing they need.
Awkwardly, Ford clears his throat, unsure what to say. Part of him wants to say something reassuring, to try to ease his brother's mind since it's clearly still fixated on...yeah. That. But at the same time, it's so much easier to just dance around the issue, to change the subject and pretend that everything is A-Okay.
It's not till he hears how shaky that second 'okay' sounds even after taking that steadying breath that Ford knows what choice he has to make.
"Come on, Stan, I carved my head open and you're worried about something that's already healed over?"
It's a joke, or at least, that's what it's meant to be. It's not all that funny, really, as evident by how Ford has to force some cheer into his tone as he says it.
"You think you'd be more concerned about the potential sepsis, not the cosmetic damage."
Oh, wait, shit. He took that a little too far - shouldn't have mentioned the possibility of infection and organ failure. Whoops.
no subject
He notices. Lord, does he notice. How can he not? It's been so long since he's seen his brother smile - of course he would be painfully aware of anything that took it away. The damage has already been done, but Ford still finds himself rubbing self-consciously at the side of his neck anyway in a lame attempt to cover the dips and raised edges that have Stan so shaken.
He watches from the doorway as his brother tries to distract himself with mindless busywork, not wanting to get too close lest he give him the opportunity to catch another glimpse of the other-worldly writing carved into his skin. Ford tries to think of the positives, counts himself lucky that at the very least Stan doesn't know what those symbols actually mean. Something tells him if he did, he'd be far more livid than he is now.
Considering how shaken up Stan already is, making him angry on top of everything else is the last thing they need.
Awkwardly, Ford clears his throat, unsure what to say. Part of him wants to say something reassuring, to try to ease his brother's mind since it's clearly still fixated on...yeah. That. But at the same time, it's so much easier to just dance around the issue, to change the subject and pretend that everything is A-Okay.
It's not till he hears how shaky that second 'okay' sounds even after taking that steadying breath that Ford knows what choice he has to make.
"Come on, Stan, I carved my head open and you're worried about something that's already healed over?"
It's a joke, or at least, that's what it's meant to be. It's not all that funny, really, as evident by how Ford has to force some cheer into his tone as he says it.
"You think you'd be more concerned about the potential sepsis, not the cosmetic damage."
Oh, wait, shit. He took that a little too far - shouldn't have mentioned the possibility of infection and organ failure. Whoops.