Work Text:
“You found a what?”
“The Leviathan Stanley…”
Stan pinches the bridge of his nose, giving a frustrated glare. He tightens the bandage around Ford’s torso.
He groans, giving a warning look to the grumbling man.
“And this thing is a good hundred feet in size?”
“Length, it’s an estimate. It could be even more.”
“And a nerd like you thought it’s a good idea to go up to something that can slice you in half?”
Ford grits his teeth.
“It’s a risk I took knowingly, I needed to.”
He releases the leather bag from his grip. Inhaling a large lungful of air through his teeth.
“What’s that for?”
“I managed to collect some pieces of the beast’s scales. Only small chips as getting the whole scale would cause numerous problems.” He grins tiredly.
“So you nearly get yourself killed for some cheap souvenirs?”
“Lecturing me on such things, coming from you that’s laughable.”
“Yeah, shut it Sixer.”
Ford can only respond with a quiet chuckle.
His twin turning away in frustration, he removes his hat, dropping it on the table.
Stan grumbles to himself unintelligibly as he makes his way to the kitchen.
Digging through the cabinets as well as the fridge, he grabs bottled water and an electric blanket for the idiot. Ford is supposed to be the smart twin, as everyone tells him, yet he goes and pulls stunts like this. Even he's not that stupid to pick a fight with something that huge; well, ok, maybe he's lying a bit. Just a little, he would probably fight that thing until it leaves crying or throws out his back.
He sighs, eyeing a smaller leather bag on the table among various trinkets.
“I can still make it to the deadline…”
Exhaling as he settles comfortably, he squeezes the blanket as he studies Stan’s work.
He frowns, Stan wrapped them too tight, and it’s cutting off his breathing. It’s not bad to the point where it’s suffocating him, but its pressure is getting to him.
He’ll have to loosen them by a bit.
“What are you trying to do? You want your gut to rot up?”
Stan marches in, dropping the supplies on the bedroom table.
“I need air.” Ford tugs on the bandages.
“You could have called me if you had complaints.” he sneers, forcing his brother to lie back down.
Ford avoids his gaze, his brows furrow as he turns his head away.
Stan peeks at him for only a moment before returning his focus back to fixing his bandages.
Silence fills the room, the brothers both shooting glares at each other. They find it personally better to stay quiet than blurt something they’ll regret, considering the situation they’re in.
For Stan, such a thing is normally short-lived.
He can’t keep the words in his mouth any longer.
“Why the heck did you do something so stupid, idiot idiot! Dang it, and on a day like this! Is that big brain of yours even working?”
Ford only glares at him, annoyed.
“I could have backed you up and you thought, no I rather do something stupid today and bother a guy who can crush you to dust.”
“I...I was getting a surprise for the kids.” he keeps his tone stern.
“I don’t see how bringing back your corpse is a good surprise. Hey kids, I brought back your Grunkle’s remains! You want to break our hearts?”
Ford grabs Stan by his left wrist, squeezing it tightly, keeping his serious eyes on his angered twin.
“You’re good, it’s loose enough. Now take a breath, and take a seat.”
Stan gives him a suspicious look, unamused.
“I understand.” Ford whispers.
His angered eyes soften.
“Let me speak.”
“Tell me.”
“My reason for the idiotic stunt, while part of it was for research, the true reason I wanted…the scales Stanley…I grabbed some scales for them. I thought to grab something, for when we stop by to visit.”
Stan sighs, sitting on the floor, his right hand clutching his forehead.
“And you screwed up?”
“I approached with caution. I believed a creature of that size should not notice or care for a few missing scales, especially the patch of its smallest set. It seems I misjudged and the smallest scales were in a sensitive spot. So in short, yes.”
“And yet you still tried fighting it.”
Ford remains silent.
“I expected ya to speed out of there knowing you.” Stan mutters.
“…I expected you to go straight into fighting.” Ford sounds absolutely exhausted.
“I know when to hightail it.”
He grabs the edge of Ford’s bed, lifting himself from the floor.
“Did you really need those scales?”
“Despite the size, running into it was an incredibly low chance. I thought I take this rare moment to collect some samples. The kids would have appreciated it.”
Stan pulls the sheets over Ford’s wounded body.
“You know what they’ll like more, you still breathing. We got that video call thing…something in the next two hours so get some sleep.”
“That’s all, not even ‘I’m sorry for lashing out?’”
“I will not apologize for saving your butt!”
Ford has a small smirk; Stan looks away for a brief moment in frustration. Returning his attention to his brother, he messes Ford’s hair teasingly.
“Ey, get over here.” He bear-hugs the injured man’s head.
Ford smiles, and the two shove each other.
“Heh, don’t bother getting up, I’ll set that fancy laptop over here. I know you’re going to pull dumb stunts like this as soon as you recover so don’t bother making any promises because I know you won’t. Drag me into it next time.”
“Sure.” he mutters.
Stan picks up the water bottle.
“Here’s your water.”
He tosses it over to Ford, hardly noticing it flying over to him, he reacts too late, and it lands on his bruised torso.
He winces, hacking loudly. He weakly grabs the bottle as his right hand clutches his body. Heaving as it feels like taking a punch to the gut.
“S-Stanley! Watch it, I’m still hurting!”
“It’s a water bottle, it’s nothing compared to that sea monster. If you can handle that, you can handle a piece of plastic.”
“That hit a tender spot…”
“Sleep it off.”
“Again, it’s Piedmont?”
“Yeah that’s the place.”
He hands the leather sack over to her.
“But how will she know where to get this?”
“She’ll know, there’s only one bay area near them, their parents will be making a stop near it. You can’t miss her. Adorable and wears sweaters, and look for a socially awkward kid near her.”
“Will do sir.”
He grins.
“So I get the honor of ‘sir’ do I?”
“Yeah, don’t let it get it to your head. Anyway I’ll take off now.”
A voice shouts from within the boat.
“Stan they’re on, what are you doing?”
“I’m busy! Be there in a sec!”
He turns back to the merwoman.
“Right, tell them Stan sent you.”
“Sure thing, farewell.”
And she dives back into the sea.
Stan sighs and gets to his feet, staring at the starry night sky, his body easing, at peace with himself while the cold air nips at him. He grins, laughing quietly to himself as he throws his head back and closes his eyes.
Upon exhaling, he opens his eyes and trudges off inside the boat.
The kids are probably asking Ford all sorts of questions of why he’s wrapped up and in bed.
True, Ford's injured, but he’ll be safe; he’ll back up Ford to let them know he’s alright. Can’t make them worry.
And he can’t wait to see those kids’ faces again.