Work Text:
*beep*
Another year. Just as pathetic as last year.
*beep*
Stan didn't even know why he did this.
*beep*
That was a lie, he knew. It was -
*beep*
Punishment.
*beep*
He messed up and never could make it right.
*beep*
That wasn't what he did. He -
*beep*
*bruuuuummm*
Seriously, it was kind of hazard.
*bruuuummm*
What if they checked his phone records or something -
*bruuuummm*
Putting his brother in danger -
"Hello?" Ford's voice never changed. Always the same damn pitch, the same - the same -
"Hello?" The second one always got a little annoyed, of course it did. Ford's time was valuable - priceless. Stan felt his hand begin to protest how damn hard he was gripping the damn -
"…" Then the silence. It always just dragged out - like Ford thought he could stare down the enemy or that someone would just break if he held on long enough -
It worked, always, Stan couldn't - he never -
"… wait," Stan almost slammed the receiver down, like he always did, but Ford's voice stopped him, "please, wait… Stanley." This wasn't what happened, this never happened, "Stanley, please don't hang up. I -" He heard Ford sigh on the other end, "I just… Could - could we talk?"
Stanley leaned his head against the wall by the phone. Wasn't this what he wanted? Yes, no, he just needed to hear Ford. Know that Ford was still there, that he was - he was -
"You don’t have to - I mean," a harsh exhale crackled from the phone, "I would like us to … speak," calm, measured, this was a stressed-to-high-hell Ford trying to keep his cool, "in person, that is. If…" then the voice broke again and Stan wanted to punch something, "if you're … amendable."
"… Amendable," Stan muttered into the phone, "fuck's sake, Ford, trying to sound like a total dweeb?" He swallowed, throat way too damn dry, "… yeah, I'm … amendable." He cast his mind out and remembered the trouble he was in, here. "You got a place?"
"Yes," that was too fast, like Ford was holding it in, "yes, I'm in Gravity Falls, Oregon - it's out of the way, but not too much, just a little off the Interstate."
Like 'out of the way' would stop Stan from seeing his brother - it hadn't stopped him from checking on Ford when he was in college, "just tell me - hold on, I need -" he groped blindly for paper and a pen.
Ford's voice was halting, switching between nervous and excited and he kept tripping over his words and changed his recommendations three times. But as he put the phone back in its cradle, it occurred to Stan that he was smiling so hard his bottom lip cracked and he had his brother's home address.
But, more importantly, that his brother had given him the address.
His brother wanted to see him and that was -
More than he deserved, wasn't it?