Italicized lines are direct quotes taken from the show.

Glass Shard Beach, NJ
April 24, 1970

Getting a call from Principal Cosmo Harper on a Friday afternoon is, unfortunately, nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, it would be closer to the truth to call it a bimonthly tradition. There's a certain amount of familiarity and routine to the whole thing by this point.

"Pines twins to the Principal's Office. Pines twins to the Principal's Office," the secretary's voice crackles from the school's PA system as the pawnshop owner and his wife settle into the chairs provided on the visitor's side of the desk.

Filbrick studies the other man across the desk from himself. They'd all given up on filling the tedious seconds by exchanging equally tedious small talk long ago. There will be no talking until whichever of the twins is in trouble this time enters the office. Or both of them do. In which case, Filbrick will stand to allow one of his boys the seat he's currently using and instead take the opportunity to loom menacingly over his troublemaking sons.

The school administrator doesn't seem quite so agitated as he normally is when Filbrick sees him. Perhaps this meeting is only for something minor, then, and he won't need to yell at his youngest sons for more knuckleheaded behavior. And perhaps Filbrick's own mother will catch a flying pig and decide to make it into bacon for him and his family.

Filbrick ruthlessly squashes his desire to snort derisively at his own thoughts.

He's a bit surprised when Stanford enters the office, though he makes sure to keep his impassive mask in place. Honestly, he'd been expecting Stanley to be the first - and likely only - one to come through the door. Stanford hasn't gotten into mischief in nearly a year now. Filbrick had been hoping it was a sign of maturity but it looks like he may have judged too quickly.

The teenager warily takes the remaining chair between his parents and the meeting begins in short order.

"Now, Mister Pines I'd like to speak with you very frankly if I may," Principal Harper says as an opener.

"Very frankly is the only way I speak," Filbrick replies, vaguely torn between wondering about the other man's intelligence and assuming his words were meant to be something of a joke. He's certainly met with the other man enough times for that much to be readily apparent.

Principal Harper states plainly, "You have two sons." Filbrick bites down on the urge to snap that he has three sons. Sherman is MIA, but that doesn't mean he's dead. There's still hope for his eldest. Regardless, the principal has only two Pines attending his school; why should he care about sons he's never met? "One of them is incredibly gifted," he continues, "The other one is standing outside of this room and his name's Stanley."

Safely hidden behind his sunglasses, Filbrick glances toward the ceiling and wonders why Jersey is full of so many idiots. If he actually cared about Harper's opinion, he might have found the man's comment offensive. The implications are clear enough, after all. As it stands, he is clearly only slightly more mature than the teenagers he's charged with educating and lacks any concept of professionalism.

Maude speaks up and the unease in her voice is hard to miss as she asks, "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying your son Stanford is a genius!" Harper exclaims, warming to the true topic of their latest meeting, "All his teachers are going bananas over his science fair experiment! You ever heard of West Coast Tech? Best college in the country! Their graduates turn science fiction into science fact! The admissions team is visiting tomorrow to check out Stanford's experiment. Your son may be a future millionaire, Mister Pines."

Filbrick feels his facade slip, eyebrows lifting in interest, but he can't be bothered to care much at the moment. His boy is that smart? Stanford gets straight A's in all of his classes - Not counting PE, and, frankly, he doesn't. - and has right from the beginning. The boy can be found regularly with a book in hand or else elbow deep in an experiment or project of some kind. The teenager already has a vocabulary chock-full of long words that have never been in Filbrick's own, and yet more seem to be added daily. He's never doubted that his son had intelligence to spare, but a genius? And a genius with enough brains to catch the attention of the best in the country with some cheaply-made science fair project, at that? Well, there's only one thing to say to that, and he does so with a smile, "I'm impressed." The suggestion of money to be made, and lots of it, certainly doesn't hurt.

"But what about our little free spirit Stanley?" Maude questions and Filbrick very deliberately doesn't introduce his own face to the nearest hard surface.

Why does she always do this? He simply doesn't understand Maude's insistence on dragging either twin into issues that should be solely about their brother. Or the rest of the world's tendency to do the same, for that matter. This conversation is specifically about Stanford's potential, Stanford's opportunities, and Stanford's future. What need is there to bring Stanley up at all? Stanley has different potential, other opportunities, and his own future ahead of him. Filbrick can see no conceivable reason to pull Stanley into the conversation they're having but that's exactly what Maude's just done.

"That clown?" Principal Harper asks, words and tone openly scornful. Filbrick can't even fault the man for his opinion. He and Maude had been in these same seats three weeks ago after Stanley had gotten caught breaking into the man's car for no other reason than to see if he could. Or so the boy had claimed. Filbrick suspects there was either a bet or a dare that had instigated the whole misadventure. Long story short, Stanley has more than earned his principal's disdain. "At this rate, he'll be lucky to graduate high school." Filbrick suppresses a scoff at the principal's hyperbole. Stanley would graduate if Filbrick had to beat the boy over the head with his own textbooks. He might have to suffer through summer school - it wouldn't be the first time with Stanley - and possibly even repeat his senior year if it came to that, but the boy would graduate eventually. A whole year of school where he wasn't able to copy off his twin might even be good for him. "Look, there's a salt water taffy store on the dock, and somebody's got to get paid to scrape the barnacles off of it. Stanford's going places. But, hey, look on the bright side. At least you'll have one son here in New Jersey forever."

It's time to shut this line of discussion down before it can slide any further into Harper's petty grudges, or better yet, the entire meeting. Maude is obviously upset as it is. "What time did you say that admissions board was going to be here?" Filbrick asks. A few other direct, to-the-point questions ensures they have all the relevant information Principal Harper has to give them. The pawnshop owner wraps up the farwells as quickly as he can, herds Maude and Stanford through the door, and collects Stanley on their way out of the building.

This 'West Coast Tech' sounds too good to be true, which means there are strings he hasn't been made aware of yet and he needs to research the place for himself. He'll take Stanford with him while he has Stanley take Maude home and run the shop until closing time. It only makes sense. Stanford will want to know more about the college anyway, and it isn't some taffy store that Filbrick is hoping Stanley will develop a longterm interest in.

April 25, 1970

"Can you explain what this was doing next to my broken project?" Stanford's raised voice echoes down the stairs to the back room of the pawnshop where Filbrick is attempting to repair some small trinket he's hoping will fetch a pretty penny once it's in working order. The man scowls at the noise, not yet fully grasping the significance of his son's words.

Stanley says something in response, but it isn't loud enough for Filbrick to decipher the words. Still, it's clear enough that the twins are fighting. Again. Best to go find out what it's about this time and shut it down before they distress their mother too much. Maude hates watching the boys bicker.

Stanford is easily the most sensitive of his sons, but Filbrick hasn't heard him sounding this upset in years. "This was no accident, Stan! You did this!" Filbrick stops halfway up the staircase. That doesn't sound good. He rubs at his left temple. He can already feel a headache building. "You did this because you couldn't handle me going to college on my own!" So, Stanford hadn't secured a scholarship to that fancy school. That's unfortunate, though it at least explains the upset if not why it's directed at Stanl- Wait. Stanford had said his project was broken. Is Stanley responsible for breaking it? No. No, the knucklehead makes some dumb decisions, regularly, but he wouldn't jeopardize -

"Look, it was a mistake!" That's an admission of guilt if Filbrick has ever heard one. What had that idiot been doing anywhere near the school? Filbrick had personally escorted him out of the school Friday. It's Saturday! When would he have even - The man feels every muscle in his body lock up as he realizes the truth. Stanley had destroyed his brother's experiment on purpose. "Although, if you think about it, maybe there's a silver lining! Huh? Treasure hunting?" Filbrick's blood boils in his veins, propelling him back into motion. It's high time this self-centered leech learn that there are consequences for poor choices, and attacking Stanford's chance at a life-changing scholarship is one of the worst choices anyone could have ever made as far as Filbrick is concerned.

"Are you kidding me? Why would I want to do anything with the person who sabotaged my entire future?" The man reaches the landing just in time to watch as Stanford pushes his twin away and Stanley falls back into the couch.

"You did what, you knucklehead?" Filbrick growls, grabbing a fistful of white cotton and hauling Stanley up from the cushions to face him. Fear washes over the boy's face, and, under normal circumstances, Filbrick would take that as his cue to back off some and calm down. This time, he doesn't.

Maude finally arrives to the scene, Rachel crying in her arms. "Stanley? What's going on in here?" she asks.

"Wait, no! I can explain! It was a mistake!" The words are desperate and the excuse is one of the flimsiest Filbrick has ever heard from Stanley's mouth.

Looking back, he never should have let it get this far. Filbrick had seen the warning signs and he'd ignored them. He should have stepped in to put a stop to the building feud between the boys before it spiralled so far out of control instead of waiting for the twins to figure it out for themselves. Well, he's going to do something about it right now!

"You ignoramus! Your brother was going to be our ticket out of this dump! All you ever do is lie, and cheat, and ride on your brother's coattails. Well, this time, you cost our family potential millions." He only wishes he was exaggerating about the cost of that damned college. He's done the math. Between the price of tuition, books, other school supplies, living arrangements, food, and various utilities, the cost of a four-year degree is close to a million dollars. Let alone the academic ambitions Stanford had voiced on Friday. Filbrick doubts anyone who doesn't have a substantial scholarship, government backing, or a filthy rich family ever goes to West Coast Tech. "And until you make us a fortune, you're not welcome in this household!"

He throws the front door open and tosses Stanley from the building. The boy catches himself on his elbows, staring up at Filbrick in disbelief.

"What?" Stanley squawks as Filbrick stalks back into the building to the closet under the staircase and yanks the duffel bag with the boy's name from the pile of similar bags. He chucks the bag out after his son and slams the door shut with enough force to shake several of the more precariously balanced items in the shop. "Stanford! Tell him he's being crazy!" An uncertain pause. "Stanford? Don't leave me hanging. High six?" Fool. Did he really expect forgiveness to come so effortlessly? So soon? While his brother was still tending to the metaphorical wounds Stanley, himself, had inflicted. "Fine! I can make it on my own! I don't need you! I don't need anyone! I'll make millions and you'll rue the day you turned your back on me!" Filbrick's scoff is lost under the screech of tires.

Time Goes On

He doesn't expect Stanley to make millions. Almost eighteen years old and his youngest has just proven that he is still little more than a petulant child. No. He expects the boy to return with his tail tucked between his legs in a matter of days. He expects him to beg to be allowed back home. He expects to bluster and lecture to make sure the lesson sticks this time and send the boy straight into Maude's coddling arms. He expects the twins to settle their differences, though probably not without several more arguments first. Hopefully helped by a fair amount a distance as Stanford attends whatever college will grant him a full ride and Stanley repeats his last year of high school. He expects life to return to normal.

It doesn't happen.

And On

Years later, after having found and buried one son, and now laying his wife to rest, Filbrick is more than a little disturbed when he realizes that the wrong twin has made the trip from Oregon. After a childhood spent attempting to pull off this same, exact stunt, Filbrick has difficulty believing that Stanley actually thinks it's working. He says nothing. He's too afraid to ask, too afraid of what it means for Stanford, too afraid of what fault he may have in it coming to pass. Those fears will likely haunt his nightmares, later. For a moment, however, Filbrick allows himself to focus solely on the one thing he's certain of with Stanley's abrupt reappearance.

"It's good to have you home, Son."

Think Filbrick could do any better if he was given a second chance at it? I've decided to explore that idea in Off Script. Hope to see you there!

Read the entire Dimension 297 series on AO3: archiveofourown dot org slash series slash 457846