A laugh spills out of Stan's mouth too and the careful silence doesn't break so much as shifts into something hyped up and happy and relieved, and he doesn't even notice.
"We made it," he says, and leans forward until their foreheads are touching, wiggling around on the floor until he can bring both hands up to ruffle up the hair at Ford's temples. "You saved me, you and your big old brain. And your tackle. Jeez, where'd you learn to tackle like that? You could play for the big leagues, I swear, a guy as skinny as you are should not pack that big a punch."
He draws back a little, still grinning, but grinning a little quieter now. That giddy, 'I'm not dead, someone else might be but not me, not me' feeling ain't gone, but he's realizing he'll have to look up and around and check shit out in a second. He wants to stay here, here on the floor for a second, grinning at his brother. glad to be alive.
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"We made it," he says, and leans forward until their foreheads are touching, wiggling around on the floor until he can bring both hands up to ruffle up the hair at Ford's temples. "You saved me, you and your big old brain. And your tackle. Jeez, where'd you learn to tackle like that? You could play for the big leagues, I swear, a guy as skinny as you are should not pack that big a punch."
He draws back a little, still grinning, but grinning a little quieter now. That giddy, 'I'm not dead, someone else might be but not me, not me' feeling ain't gone, but he's realizing he'll have to look up and around and check shit out in a second. He wants to stay here, here on the floor for a second, grinning at his brother. glad to be alive.