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Ford woke up with a cry, sitting up quickly, gripping his chest and hyperventilating. He couldn’t breathe, where was he? He glanced around rapidly, not able to make much out in the darkness. He knew he was moving though but, that's it. He was panicking, that's for damn sure. One of his hands gripped his hair, pulling at it as a sense of grounding. It wasn’t working. Was it a nightmare? It felt so real-
There was shuffling from across the room, of course, he didn’t notice it in his panic. “Ford-?” A tired grumble said, he could barely make it out though, and of course, he didn’t respond, more focused on trying to actually breathe.
More shuffling, and he soon felt a hand on his shoulder, “Nother nightmare?” He heard, and he finally processed it as his brother, Stanley.
Ford gave a quick nod, his face felt wet, and it didn’t take him long to process that he was crying. Why did this upset him so much? He didn’t have much longer to think on it though, before being pulled into a hug. “S’its alright sixer, deep breaths, ok?” Stanley muttered besides him, who soon started to breathe in deeply, before breathing out, trying to get Ford to do the same.
With the reassurance of his brother, plus the movement from him, Ford started to, shakily follow after him in the deep breathing.
“Whatever the dream was about, it aint real, it won’t hurt you or anyone else. You are here on the Stan o War II with me, your brother Stanley Pines.” Stanley began to say once Ford started the deep breathing, “Your name is Stanford Pines, and whatever happened, didn’t. You are safe.”
Ford forgot how calming his brother could be, and, his anxiety levels soon died down.
He let out a soft sigh, wiping his face some, partly to get the sleep out of his eyes, and the tears off his face. “Sorry about waking you.” He muttered, looking at his brother in the dark.
“You’re fine Poindexter, I would rather much help you than to have you suffer alone.” Stanley chuckled slightly, before getting up and stretching, and looking at his watch. He scratched the back of his neck some before going over to a light and turning it on, he had a feeling the two would be up for a decent bit.
“Do you wanna talks about the nightmare?” He asked, looking over at Ford who was, still sitting in bed, clearly still waking up a smidge.
It took ford, a long while to respond, chewing on his lip nervously as he thought.
“I- it was just Bill. Again, hes, its, always him.” He sighed, voice cracking some.
“Bill is long gone Ford, remember? He can’t hurt you or anyone really.” Stan tried to comfort, walking back over to sit on the bed next to him.
“I know. But, what if he isn’t? What if, somehow he survived and-”
“But he isn’t. There has been nothing to prove that he is still alive.” Stan interjected, not letting his brother finish his thought. He knew how Ford could get, and how easily he could spiral.
“I-” Ford sighed, before putting his face in his hands and tried to get his breathing under control again.
“It was just a dream, it wasn’t real.” Stan once again tried to comfort, pulling Ford into a side hug.
Ford didn’t move for, a long time, just, trying to stay calm and not have another breakdown, he was way to tired for that currently, plus he didn’t want to make his brother watch that again, or be forced to comfort him.
Meanwhile, Stan just stayed quiet the whole time, keeping Ford in a hug. He wanted to let him have time to calm down, even if that meant sitting here for awhile.
After a bit, Ford finally took a breath before pulling away from Stanley some, fiddling with the hem of his own sleeves. “Sorry about that, you're, you're right. It was just a dream. There has been no physical and definite proof that Bill is back.” He was trying to use facts to combat the, irrational part of his brain. Nothing has proved that Bill is back, and there never will be. He's gone.
Stan tried to give a reassuring smile, patting his back some. “Think you wanna go back to sleep or-?” He tried to leave the question opened ended, incase Ford had any other ideas.
“I, I think I will just get started for the day. You can, go back to bed yourself.” Ford responded tiredly, he just didn’t want to deal with anymore nightmares, he could just drink coffee.
“I’ll get up with you then.” Stan smiled, even though he really, wanted to go back to bed. But, that didn’t matter, his brother was more important.