As usual when he makes Ford laugh, Stan's smiling before he even knows he's doing it. Not a huge smile but a proud one, 'cause he didn't set out to be funny just then but it was him who made Ford laugh, anyway, and it's surprised him every time he's done it, remembering just how good that feels.
"I don't know," he says, hunching up his shoulders and shaking himself a little when he goes inside, like he's trying to shake the cold off. "I just figured he was smart, takin' advantage of the way people liked him. That's what I'd do. Probably."
Stan walks up the hall, looking for a little table or somethin' where he can set Ford's leftovers down, but his pace slows when he gets a look at a certain room and remembers the mess he made there, his little tantrum that made Ford stand back and look at him like- Well, never mind just how Ford looked at him because things have changed since then, a whole lotta' shit has changed and it kinda' feels like when he was in this house havin' a freakout about Ford's future as a drugged up vegetable happened a lot longer ago than it actually did.
Now if Ford feels the same way, maybe Stan can block his view of that room when they walk past it and not remind his brother of his little, uh. The moment he had, back before he knew the real story here. Or, you know, part of the real story. To distract Ford a little Stan ducks his head, catching the glasses as they slip off and blinking hard a few times as he gets used to the way the world normally looks. "I guess you don't want me keepin' these but uh, thanks for not lettin' me fall on my face out there."
ah'll be bachk, etc.
"I don't know," he says, hunching up his shoulders and shaking himself a little when he goes inside, like he's trying to shake the cold off. "I just figured he was smart, takin' advantage of the way people liked him. That's what I'd do. Probably."
Stan walks up the hall, looking for a little table or somethin' where he can set Ford's leftovers down, but his pace slows when he gets a look at a certain room and remembers the mess he made there, his little tantrum that made Ford stand back and look at him like- Well, never mind just how Ford looked at him because things have changed since then, a whole lotta' shit has changed and it kinda' feels like when he was in this house havin' a freakout about Ford's future as a drugged up vegetable happened a lot longer ago than it actually did.
Now if Ford feels the same way, maybe Stan can block his view of that room when they walk past it and not remind his brother of his little, uh. The moment he had, back before he knew the real story here. Or, you know, part of the real story. To distract Ford a little Stan ducks his head, catching the glasses as they slip off and blinking hard a few times as he gets used to the way the world normally looks. "I guess you don't want me keepin' these but uh, thanks for not lettin' me fall on my face out there."