"Because as far as I'm concerned, they're the only family I have left."
[Stan wakes with a phantom ache in his jaw and an all-too-real weight in his gut.
Stupid. Stupid, why had he ever thought things would work out in the end? He should've known better last week. It seems selfish to be angry about it now - wasn't Ford right? Wasn't it all his fault anyway? But after thirty years of his life, you'd think he'd come out with at least a little something.
He wanders into the kitchen, but only stays long enough to eat a few slices of toast. He's too restless now to stand around and make real breakfast, and once the food is gone he's quick to retreat to the incinerator room to punch the yeti some. This time, his blows are rather more vicious.
The fourth-floor investigation lasts only as long as it takes Stan to find the bar. He'll spend most of the rest of the day there, drinking beer from the taps before eventually moving on to the unlabeled liquor. It wasn't something he could've done before; the kids were still there, the Shack needed taken care of, and no one could know how the summer would end for him. It'd only upset them. That's fine; it's not like he ever really talked to anyone anyway. He's sure he handled it all just fine, whatever happened. But here?
no subject
[Stan wakes with a phantom ache in his jaw and an all-too-real weight in his gut.
Stupid. Stupid, why had he ever thought things would work out in the end? He should've known better last week. It seems selfish to be angry about it now - wasn't Ford right? Wasn't it all his fault anyway? But after thirty years of his life, you'd think he'd come out with at least a little something.
He wanders into the kitchen, but only stays long enough to eat a few slices of toast. He's too restless now to stand around and make real breakfast, and once the food is gone he's quick to retreat to the incinerator room to punch the yeti some. This time, his blows are rather more vicious.
The fourth-floor investigation lasts only as long as it takes Stan to find the bar. He'll spend most of the rest of the day there, drinking beer from the taps before eventually moving on to the unlabeled liquor. It wasn't something he could've done before; the kids were still there, the Shack needed taken care of, and no one could know how the summer would end for him. It'd only upset them. That's fine; it's not like he ever really talked to anyone anyway. He's sure he handled it all just fine, whatever happened. But here?
Fuck it. Doesn't matter.]