Stanley frowns. In the moment before Ford closes his eyes, he frowns.
"It's me," he says, but uselessly, it's his same voice but with all the hope dropped out of it, because Ford knew very well what he was looking at. Sort of. It ain't that dark.
"It's just a dream, you can snap out of it," he tries, because he's gotta' try. "Look, Sixer, l-look at me, okay? I, I can't talk to you if you don't even see me."
He catches himself shaking Ford a little and stops, looks at him a couple seconds like the right answer's just gonna' pop into his head, the right thing to say that will make all this go away. He needs to see his brother's eyes again. "This is an, an uh- episode, right? That's, that's what they called it, the uh, the doctors. But-but I, uh. I don't know what to-"
He doesn't know what to do, but not knowing what to do won't help Ford. Not knowing what to do don't help anyone, and talking about it definitely won't. It never has, he knows that, and so all at once Stan straightens up, the spine going back into his voice.
"That's fine," he says, steady and easy and moving to lean back against the wall next to Ford, letting his hands slide off and away from him but making sure their shoulders press together instead. "You don't have to look if you don't want. It's a great view in here, though. Or, hey, it might as well be, if you ain't going to open your eyes anyway."
"Do you wanna', uh, talk about it? I hear that, that's supposed to help." That's what all those shrinks do, ain't it? Stan's never been a shrink, but if he's gonna' stick around with Ford here it looks like he's going to need the practice.
no subject
"It's me," he says, but uselessly, it's his same voice but with all the hope dropped out of it, because Ford knew very well what he was looking at. Sort of. It ain't that dark.
"It's just a dream, you can snap out of it," he tries, because he's gotta' try. "Look, Sixer, l-look at me, okay? I, I can't talk to you if you don't even see me."
He catches himself shaking Ford a little and stops, looks at him a couple seconds like the right answer's just gonna' pop into his head, the right thing to say that will make all this go away. He needs to see his brother's eyes again. "This is an, an uh- episode, right? That's, that's what they called it, the uh, the doctors. But-but I, uh. I don't know what to-"
He doesn't know what to do, but not knowing what to do won't help Ford. Not knowing what to do don't help anyone, and talking about it definitely won't. It never has, he knows that, and so all at once Stan straightens up, the spine going back into his voice.
"That's fine," he says, steady and easy and moving to lean back against the wall next to Ford, letting his hands slide off and away from him but making sure their shoulders press together instead. "You don't have to look if you don't want. It's a great view in here, though. Or, hey, it might as well be, if you ain't going to open your eyes anyway."
"Do you wanna', uh, talk about it? I hear that, that's supposed to help." That's what all those shrinks do, ain't it? Stan's never been a shrink, but if he's gonna' stick around with Ford here it looks like he's going to need the practice.