His voice cracks at the end there, but he's too busy fuming with righteous indignation to care that his voice went up a few octaves in a way it hasn't since he was thirteen and puberty was kicking his ass up and down the stairs.
Ford shoves hard at his brother's shoulders in an attempt to shove him back down onto the bed, because he has not been this angry in a long while and so help them God, Stanley is going to sit down and listen.
"You're not my keeper, Stan! You don't get to take credit for my mistakes, you can't just--" He trips over his words but keeps going, to incensed to stop.
"You can't just disappear for ten years then come back into my life when it's already--a-after I've---"
God damn it, God damn it. Now he's got to blink hard against the stinging feeling in the back of his eyes, take a leaf from Stanley's book and drag in a breath to steady himself.
"You don't get to come here and tell me what I deserve when you don't know what I've done."
And there it is, the catalyst of his anger, the source of his frustration towards his brother for daring to place the blame for how his life turned out on himself: some not-so-small part of Ford genuinely believes that he's simply reaping what he has sowed.
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His voice cracks at the end there, but he's too busy fuming with righteous indignation to care that his voice went up a few octaves in a way it hasn't since he was thirteen and puberty was kicking his ass up and down the stairs.
Ford shoves hard at his brother's shoulders in an attempt to shove him back down onto the bed, because he has not been this angry in a long while and so help them God, Stanley is going to sit down and listen.
"You're not my keeper, Stan! You don't get to take credit for my mistakes, you can't just--" He trips over his words but keeps going, to incensed to stop.
"You can't just disappear for ten years then come back into my life when it's already--a-after I've---"
God damn it, God damn it. Now he's got to blink hard against the stinging feeling in the back of his eyes, take a leaf from Stanley's book and drag in a breath to steady himself.
"You don't get to come here and tell me what I deserve when you don't know what I've done."
And there it is, the catalyst of his anger, the source of his frustration towards his brother for daring to place the blame for how his life turned out on himself: some not-so-small part of Ford genuinely believes that he's simply reaping what he has sowed.