Chapter Text
“I’m selfish? I’m selfish Stanley? How can you say that after costing me my dream school!? I’m giving you a chance to do the first worthwhile thing in your life and you won’t even listen!”
Time slowed as Stan felt his insides freeze with an icy combination of hurt and anger upon hearing his brother’s lower than rock-bottom opinion of him. Shockingly the anger was winning over the hurt, and it hurt more than metal stabbing into his gums as he chewed his way out of a human trafficker's trunk so that really meant something.
Up until ten seconds ago, Stan used to think nothing could be more wounding than that moment over ten years ago when Ford turned away from him after watching him get thrown out onto the street by their heartless father. However, hearing Ford proudly proclaim that his entire life was worthless definitely beat it, and the fact that he was right only ground salt into the wound.
But no, Stan was much more angry than he was hurt. He had done nothing but suffer for the last ten years because of a fucking accident he made as a teenager. A teenager who was always treated as the lesser of two his entire life, who was scared of facing the world without his brother by his side. And he had to fucking face the world without him anyway!
Stan had walked through life alone for so long with no-one to care if he was tired or hungry or cold or scared. But no, Ford’s problems were sooo much more important because he didn’t get to go to his stupid dream school, as if he didn’t make something of himself anyways, like Stan always knew he would.
Stan had more than paid for his mistake, and he was really pissed the fuck off that Ford was still willing to dangle it over his head even after all these years, especially after all the hard living he was forced to endure because of a simple mistake made out of fear and anger.
So, naturally, he lashed out.
“Well listen to this!” Stan barked out as felt around in his pocket for his lighter. “You want me to get rid of this book? Fine, I’ll get rid of it right now!” With quick fingers he pulled the lighter out and sparked the flint, holding the flame up to the leather-bound book and watching in dark delight as Ford’s horrified eyes fixated onto the Journal.
“No!” Ford grabbed onto the book to stop its motion toward the flame. “You don’t understand!” He pleaded, but what Ford didn’t understand was that Stan was far past giving a rat’s ass about whatever mess Ford had landed himself in. He jerked the book away from Ford’s grasping fingers and brought it back to the lighter.
“You said you wanted me to have it so I’ll do what I want with it!”
“My research!” Ford cried out desperately and suddenly caught Stan in a tackle, sending the book flying from his hands.
Ford leapt to his feet with frantic energy and tried to run to the journal, but sprawled face-down onto the ground instead after Stan stuck out a foot to trip him.
Stan quickly snatched up the book as he passed his brother’s prone form and ran for the door leading to the portal control room.
“Stanley! Give it back!” Ford yelled as he caught up to Stan and shoved them both through the door.
They smashed into a control panel as they grappled for the book, and Stan faintly registered the sounds of whirring and electricity crackling before forcing his mind to refocus on the savage fight he was having with his twin.
“If you want it back you’re gonna have to try harder than that!” Stan shouted as he pressed his hand to Ford’s face to shove him to the ground but not counting on Ford’s strong grasp yanking him down over top of him.
They both had their hands on the book, pulling it back and forth in a furious tug-of-war.
“You left me behind you jerk!” Stan roared in pure rage, and nearly had the book wrenched out from between Ford’s fingers. “It was supposed to be us forever, you ruined my life!”
“You ruined your own life!” Ford roared back before bringing his foot up to Stan’s chest, freeing his grasp on the book by pushing him up and away, shoving Stan back first directly onto the red-hot protection sigil emblazoned on the side of his desk.
Stan’s agonized scream echoed through the lab.
“Stanley!” Ford cried out in horrified shock as he stood up. He watched Stan slump onto his side, clutching at his scorched shoulder. “Oh my God I’m so sorry! Are you alri-ow!“ Ford wasn’t able to finish his sentence before Stan’s fist smashed into his face, sending him stumbling backwards into the portal chamber before landing hard on the portal’s final activation lever.
Ford tilted his gaze upward to meet Stan’s enraged face.
But he wasn’t there?
Ford tilted his head in confusion before hearing the pounding of Stan’s feet as he sprinted out of the lab.
“Stanley! Come back!” Ford yelled pleadingly to Stan’s quickly retreating back, registering the active portal crackling behind him just enough to pound his fist on the lever’s ‘Kill Sequence’ button.
Ford pushed himself to his feet and ran after Stan, guilt and regret washing over him in waves as he thought about the horrible pain he just inflicted on his brother.
“I’m sorry!”
In his haste to catch up to his Stan before he truly lost him forever, Ford didn’t notice the journal lying face-down on the ground.
~~~
You ruined your own life! You ruined your own life! You ruined your own life!
Stan heard nothing but Ford’s scathing words repeating over and over in his head as he threw himself into the elevator, frantically pounding at the buttons to make it close before leaning his good shoulder against a wall and staring blankly at the door as the elevator began to ascend back up to the shack.
Stan could barely feel the fiery throbbing of his shoulder as he hyper-fixated on the agony settling in his heart, sending cracks across it in its wake. He used the heel of his hand to wipe away the tears streaming down his face, before clapping it over his mouth to stifle the sobs trying to wrench their way out of his throat.
Stan had always known he was a useless waste of space, you kind of get to figuring that when every person you ever met took the time just to remind you of that stone cold fact.
But to hear it from Ford? His twin brother and the best and only friend he’d ever had? It meant that all of it was true, despite his desperate and foolish hope that his brother was still on his side. But now, instead of feeling worthless, he now felt like filth to be burned away.
Literally.
Oh goddamn did Stan ever need to leave right fucking now. He needed to get to his car and drive as far away as he physically could from this godforsaken place before he completely fell to pieces like some stupid wimp.
The elevator door finally slid open and Stan wasted no time sprinting toward the front door, flinging it open and running out into the snowstorm.
Stan got about fifty feet off the porch before realizing he couldn’t see where he parked his car through the blowing snow.
Before he got a chance to really look, a crashing sound made him look back at Ford’s rickety house, staring with disturbing numbness as the man himself stood in the doorway trying to peer through the heavy snowfall.
“Stanley, wait!” He heard Ford cry out frantically when his eyes finally locked onto him.
Fear-tinged alarm burned through Stan as he suddenly veered his path toward the forest and barreled through the treeline, trying desperately to escape his brother.
Stan darted and zig-zagged through the trees in an attempt to throw Ford off his trail, but he could still clearly hear Ford yelling for him to stop from somewhere in the vicinity behind him, which only made him pick up the pace and run faster.
When Stan was forced to stop and catch his breath, he luckily spotted some low-lying pine branches a fair distance away. He ran toward the branches swiftly and dove behind them, withdrawing deep into the needles to hide before Ford could find him.
Through the underbrush he spied Ford coming to a stop in a clearing about fifty feet away from his hiding spot. The storm had since quieted and now big white flakes of snow were falling silently in the forest as Ford wandered around, trying to make sense of Stan’s tracks.
Stan watched Ford unknowingly walk closer and closer to him in ever-growing panic, and started frantically digging for something he could throw.
When Ford was about fifteen feet away and unknowingly closing the distance between them, Stan triumphantly pulled a fist-sized chunk of ice out of the snow and threw it as hard as he could into the forest behind him.
Crack!
“Stanley!” Ford yelled as he quickly skirted the pine branches and began running toward the source of the sound.
As his brother’s footsteps faded into the woods, Stan let out a sigh of relief. However the relief didn’t last very long as the adrenaline from the chase wore off, leaving Stan with the full brunt of the pain from his burnt shoulder.
“Fuuuck.” He hissed through clenched teeth as the brand throbbed, sending fiery spikes of agony shooting across his back and shoulders. He was trying to regulate his breathing to try to get the pain under control when he looked down at his left hand involuntarily clenching into the snow on the ground. He raised a handful of snow into the air and contemplated it for a second.
“Enh, I’ve done stupider things than this.” He said dismissively to himself before taking the snow and pressing it to his seared flesh. The pain in his shoulder intensified for long seconds, making him clench his teeth harder and choke back a groan, before slowly it began to ease.
The handful he started with melted, so he grabbed another and repeated the process. As he held the second handful to his shoulder he assessed his extremely limited options.
It probably won’t be long before Ford realizes he’s following nothing. Stan thought bleakly to himself. So I can either try to run back and look for my car, or find a better hiding place to try and last until Ford’s given up.
A long howl sounded off in the distance.
OK LOOKING FOR THE CAR IT IS.
Stan clambered to his feet, brushing the snow off his pants and jacket before walking back in the direction he was reasonably sure he came from.
He walked warily through the woods for a few minutes, keeping his eyes and ears peeled for any sign of Ford returning, but as soon as Stan began to relax his boot caught on a root sticking out of the snow and he stumbled hard for a few steps, catching himself by grasping at a young tree.
Stan hung his head and took a couple breaths, steeling himself before pushing his body upright to continue walking.
So intent he was on his path, the glowing red eyes that flared to life and fixated on him as he passed completely escaped Stan’s notice.