Stan lets his mouth stay open a second, about to answer, while he thinks: Holy Moses, it gets worse? Worse than what Ford's said already?
It gets worse, shit, how is Stan ever gonna' make up for- He shakes his head, not meaning to say no to Ford, just trying to shake off the thought, and looks down at his own clothes, stained and thin even though he got new ones from the car while Ford was sleeping. He thinks about that car, and about the moment when they were going out to celebrate when he realized that if he drove Ford would see inside that car, that Ford might see his whole life when he climbed inside it. He looks up at Ford, thinks about the way Ford don't seem like he can look at Stanley just now, and he takes a breath, and lets that honest tone in his voice stay honest. It ain't easy. It ain't like he's been lying before, or anything, it's just- This is different, okay?
"You say that like I ever stopped," he says, rueful, then smiling and breathing out a little laugh because making out like it's a joke makes saying it come a little smoother. "But I-"
I've done some shit, he doesn't say, some serious shit, because the conversation ain't about him and being honest is one thing, but try to tell Stan Pines not to take advantage of a thing like that. It's not about him, it's about Ford. "I thought you lost it, you know? When I got here? I thought drugs, you know, or maybe the way all those super geniuses you hear about losin' touch with reality, I thought maybe you just sort of... And I mighta' showed out a little, but that was never, it was never because I thought less of you. I was mad for you, not because of you. So, look, I don't know what more there is to all this, I got no clue what you don't want to tell me and I got a feeling neither of us are gonna' like hearing it. But, Ford - you're you. And you're here. And I'm here. That's- I mean, if we can do that, you know- "
He shrugs, his eyes sliding off Ford again so his face don't go all hopeful, so Ford maybe won't notice the hope that crept up into his voice too before he stopped himself going too far. Because if they can do this, be here like this after all this time, they can do anything, including talking about, you know. All that fucked up junk. Unless Ford thinks they can't. If Ford don't think so that's, you know. That's fine.
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It gets worse, shit, how is Stan ever gonna' make up for- He shakes his head, not meaning to say no to Ford, just trying to shake off the thought, and looks down at his own clothes, stained and thin even though he got new ones from the car while Ford was sleeping. He thinks about that car, and about the moment when they were going out to celebrate when he realized that if he drove Ford would see inside that car, that Ford might see his whole life when he climbed inside it. He looks up at Ford, thinks about the way Ford don't seem like he can look at Stanley just now, and he takes a breath, and lets that honest tone in his voice stay honest. It ain't easy. It ain't like he's been lying before, or anything, it's just- This is different, okay?
"You say that like I ever stopped," he says, rueful, then smiling and breathing out a little laugh because making out like it's a joke makes saying it come a little smoother. "But I-"
I've done some shit, he doesn't say, some serious shit, because the conversation ain't about him and being honest is one thing, but try to tell Stan Pines not to take advantage of a thing like that. It's not about him, it's about Ford. "I thought you lost it, you know? When I got here? I thought drugs, you know, or maybe the way all those super geniuses you hear about losin' touch with reality, I thought maybe you just sort of... And I mighta' showed out a little, but that was never, it was never because I thought less of you. I was mad for you, not because of you. So, look, I don't know what more there is to all this, I got no clue what you don't want to tell me and I got a feeling neither of us are gonna' like hearing it. But, Ford - you're you. And you're here. And I'm here. That's- I mean, if we can do that, you know- "
He shrugs, his eyes sliding off Ford again so his face don't go all hopeful, so Ford maybe won't notice the hope that crept up into his voice too before he stopped himself going too far. Because if they can do this, be here like this after all this time, they can do anything, including talking about, you know. All that fucked up junk. Unless Ford thinks they can't. If Ford don't think so that's, you know. That's fine.