Chapter Text
Seven months. Stan had been in therapy for seven months. The most recent visit confirmed his suspicions and made his blood boil. Filbrick had abused Stan. Mom hadn’t, which made him glad that he’d waited for Stan to come out and say it since he was ready to come down on them both. Stan was doing better, he’d had cataract surgery, and in his sessions he was slowly opening up. Of course, now that Ford knew some of what was going on, he’d looked out for his brother more. During nights he couldn’t sleep, he’d stand next to Stan’s door, only to hear him in the throes of another nightmare. In the morning, he seemed more tired that usual, so Ford had gotten in the habit of buying Stan’s favorite snacks in the morning.
He would cook, but, well, once he’d nearly burnt down the kitchen, and nearly gave his brother a heart attack, he’d decided to not cook. Well, actually Stan made him promise to never cook again without supervision. Anyway, after he’d told Dr. Medicine and Ford that he’d been hit -somehow very casual about it- Ford had been pissed. But, he’d stayed for awhile. Until he heard Stan having another nightmare, and he’d snapped. Which is why he was driving during the night, a few hours till sunrise, with his hands gripping the wheel so hard he thought it might break.
His airplane ticket was safe in his wallet, a short letter explaining his absence was at home, and he was furious. Driving up to the airport, he prepared for the eighteen hour flight.
~~~~~~~
The airplane landed and Ford was seriously questioning his reaction. Not that he regretted it, but really? That was a long flight, and by now he knows that his letter has been seen. It says that he’s off monster hunting and won’t be back anytime soon. He does regret leaving Stan so soon after the therapy session, but even now, he still feels the rage inside him. In fact, it was building up again, because he was here. In New Jersey. Just thirty minutes away from Glass Shard Beach. Yep, he was pissed again.
He walked out of the airport and into a taxi, content to sit and stew until they reached the old antique shop. Paying the driver, he stepped out of the car, only to notice how… abandoned the place looked.
Leaning back into the car, he asked, “Has this place been shut down?” After the driver nodded, he questioned him, “Why?"
“I heard that the owner died.”
What?
~~~~~~~
A grave sat in front of him. A somber, yet infuriating sight. He was never going to get revenge. Because Filbrick was dead. He kneeled on the grass and stared at the bare tombstone for a long moment. Rage filled him up and coursed hotly though him. So, with a disturbing finality, he punched it. He didn’t do any damage, but he felt as if he needed to do it. He stood up.
“Stan- Stan deserved more than this. You always thought that I was the one who was going to change the world. Well, I didn’t, but guess what? Stan saved it. He- at the risk of his own life, his memories, he saved us all. And I couldn’t. And I’m okay with that. I blamed him for so long, but I never realized that me leaving meant that one of the only people who supported him would be gone from his life. Looking back on it, I believe him. It was an accident and he didn’t know how to reach out. He wasn’t angry, he was scared. So you kicked him out while I watched. I’m not okay with that. Not anymore. I’m trying to make amends now, and how I wish you felt guilty for hurting him.”
At this point, he took a deep breath, before continuing, “ You? You didn’t deserve him. We didn’t deserve him. But. I’m going to try. I’m going to make myself worthy of him. Worthy enough to stand with him, instead of behind him or ahead of him. So that I don’t feel guilty whenever I see him. You never got the chance to, and you don’t deserve it. Frankly? I’m not sure if I do either. But since he’s giving me the chance, I’ll take it. He wants to get better, and he wants to repair what broke between us. And I’ll be there, and I hope I can stand with him. He’s told me that it’s alright, that apologizing was enough, that I wasn’t to blame. I still feel guilty, but more than that, I feel ashamed. At the both of us. I won’t return here. Goodbye, fath-” No, not anymore. This man wasn’t his father.
He went back to the airport, not once looking back.