Work Text:
You could do it.
Stan had hit another roadblock in his secret work in the basement; wrong, wrong, all of it was going wrong, and he seemed no closer to getting the dang thing fixed.
You’re just messing it up anyway.
He might not even be still alive anymore.
No, he couldn’t afford to think like that. His brother had to be okay, he-
You’ve taken too long. All you’ve ever done to him is create one disaster after another. You’ll never find him and you know it.
You could do it.
Stan stared at the thing in his hand.
It’d be quick. You wouldn’t even be in pain, probably. Not for long, anyway.
And yeah, there'd be a mess to clean up afterwards, but it's not like you'd have to do it.
It’d be ages before anyone even found you.
It’s not like there’s anyone who would care, anyway.
I-I can’t. I gotta keep tryin’ ta find Ford. I got a job ta do.
But it would be so easy. Think about it. No more pain, no more being a failure, no more-
“Mr. Pines?”
Stan jumped a mile, spinning around in his chair to see Soos in the doorway of his office, toolbox in hand, staring at him with an expression somewhere between bewilderment and a hint of fright.
A fantasy floated into his thoughts of the fifteen-year-old strolling in to work, thinking it would be just another normal day, coming innocently into the office to find out what his boss wanted done today, and finding-
With a small shudder, Stan put on his best Mr. Mystery smile.
“Hey, Soos. You done for the day?”
The boy’s eyes didn’t lose their troubled frown.
“Yeah, I finished putting those adjustments on the Bicyclops like you said.” He was still staring at the gun in Stan’s hand.
Quickly Stan lowered it. “I was just thinking about a possible new exhibit.”
Yeah, the Headless Corpse.
“Thinking a giant robot or something, covered in those guns that when you pull the trigger it shoots out a little flag that has “Bang” written on it, and strings attached for people to pull on them. Might be good for a few laughs, and it’s okay for kids to play with. Probably.”
He slid the gun back into his desk drawer and walked Soos to the Shack’s entrance, letting his mouth make up ideas for the exhibit as he went.