For the "take one" that matches this chapter, check out Rue What You Ruin.
Dimension 297B
Glass Shard Beach, NJ
April 25, 1970
"And until you make us a fortune, you're not -" the man cuts himself off abruptly and goes stock still.
Stanley watches his father with an ever increasing fear as the man fails to do anything other than stare at him. He knows how to deal with yelling. This isn't the first time he's done something that's caused his father to lose his temper, though he's pretty sure this is the worst he's ever seen the older man lose it. This sudden stillness is new (wrong) and it frankly scares him more than the screaming ever could have.
The teenager shifts uneasily. "Pops?" he asks, hesitant to break the ringing silence.
Filbrick visibly shudders. "Get back in the house," the man says, voice strained, "Go to your room. Don't come back out until I come to get you."
Stanley shrinks into himself for a second before slowly forcing himself to his feet. He hugs the duffel bag tight to his chest as he makes his way back toward the front door and his father. At this point, he's officially terrified.
Filbrick holds the door open for him, moving far enough out of the way to allow the younger Pines into the building. He all but slams the door closed as soon as his son shuffles around him. His fingers fumble over the lock before succeeding in turning the little switch on the door handle and moving on to the larger one for the deadbolt.
Stan hovers indecisively next to the stairs until Filbrick catches sight of him again. "Go," the older man snaps, making a jerky motion with one arm. His hand is shaking. His face is pale. Stan nods hurriedly and dashes up the staircase. Filbrick doesn't follow him immediately.
"Ma," Stan says as soon as he's reached the second-floor apartment, "Ma, something's wrong with Dad. I, I think he might be havin' a heart attack, or, or, I don't know! But somethin's wrong with him!"
Maude's face pinches further than it already was with yet more worry. "Take the baby," she instructs and then calls for his twin, "Stanford? There's a bottle in the fridge for Rachel. Go fetch it for your brother." Stanley slips the duffel bag's strap over his shoulder and accepts his small niece from his mother's arms.
Ford passes them on his way into the kitchen without even looking at Stan. "Yes, Ma."
"Go on, Stanley," Ma tells him, "Your father won't react well if he catches you out of your room."
"Yes, Ma," Stan echoes his brother's earlier words. He makes it into his room just as he hears Filbrick's heavy tread on the stairs.
"Filbrick?" he hears Ma ask as he tries unsuccessfully to calm Rachel.
There's a pause before the man speaks. "Maude," Filbrick's voice breaks as he says his wife's name and suddenly Rachel isn't the only one filling the apartment with the sound of crying.
"F-Fil? Honey, what's wrong? What happened?"
Ford enters the room at a near run and wastes no time shutting the door behind him like there's a monster on the other side. His eyes are wide and he looks almost as afraid as Stan feels as he numbly passes over the bottle of baby formula.
The bottle works to appease Rachel's loud complaints. Stan wishes it hadn't. Without the baby's crying there's nothing to obscure Filbrick's own weeping. It's the most unsettling thing he's ever heard and he has no idea what caused it.
Nobody in their tiny apartment sleeps well that night.
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