Author's Note: The idea for this one just came for me at the dinner table. Okay, I was eating in front of my laptop; don't judge me. Final chapter as I've decided that this is just better as a two-shot. And it ended up being a darker Ford then I had originally planned, but protective and/or dark Ford holds a special place in my heart. Beginning to work on a Feral Ford fic with the completion of this one, so I hope you'll check that one out when it's posted! Thanks for reading and sorry for the delay better the chapters!
The sleep that they both so peacefully fell into really didn't last long; it ended abruptly with Stan gasping out in his sleep and suddenly twisting around. Almost like to escape something. That motion had Ford up within seconds and ready to act or destroy whatever had come his way while he was resting. His heart raced and it took him a few moments to realize that it was just Stanley crying in his sleep.
That thought made his heart twist at the mumbled no's coming from his twin's mouth and he had to shake him awake. There were tears that just became stronger as he woke up and flinched from the feeling of a hand on him. The old man looked wrecked and Ford wondered if the illusion was over; just how much did he remember? Then Stanley began to talk and Ford wanted to rip the past apart to stop it from ever happening.
"You weren't there, and I was alone. Without as much as a coat. Was it real; how long were we apart?" Ford was more tired now than when he went to sleep what had probably been only a couple hours ago. His mind caught up with exactly what to say quickly enough though. "It was about me going to college, we had a big fight and it took a few years to reacquaint." Was there really that much difference between a few and a lot? Ford was too tired to think about it.
"It was so cold and I felt lost, no purpose and no direction. No means of landing on my feet, I made everything difficult. I, I let men touch me and felt filthy. I remember that laying down for the, sometime more than one at once and hoping with this I would forget about things. Sometimes it was for money and sometimes it was just because they paid for a room for a night." Stanley cried through his words, and Ford thought he might vomit.
He had thought about Stan after Dad had kicked him out, had pictured him going and working on a ship like he had always wanted, or working construction because he had the body type for it. Now he could only picture him cold and alone, unable to get a job do to how young he was. He pictured the first time selling himself would be to an old man, similar to their age now; with a more perverted taste. Ready to break an already damaged soul and drag him down to his lowest. It was hard to swallow and suddenly Ford felt like he should join in on crying. He couldn't though; Stanley needed him at this moment and while he hadn't been there for his brother in the past, he could be there for him now.
Paint an image and go with it. Ford tugged his brother close to him and squeezed tightly; those tears were breaking his heart every time one fell. "That was a rough time in our life, I went to college and you disappeared. I missed you so much and eventually found a trace of where you were." This was absolutely a lie now, but Ford needed to say this. It would be better to be a fraudulent hero then a traitorous stranger. The story that wasn't even true just kept spilling out of his lips. "You were in the back of a bar that night I finally tracked you down, giving head to some stranger while people sneered around you. I pulled you out of that godforsaken place and threw punches at anyone who was in my way. I didn't even say anything to you as I shoved you into my car, I'm not even sure if you knew it was mean because I had changed so much in our years apart."
Stan clung to him and shook with despair in the air. "I don't remember. Just remember feeling lost and having a raw throat and the filthy feeling that I got when other guys touched me." This was much too real and Ford was destroying things with lies, but the chances of Stanley ever getting his memory back instead of a few flash back was next to impossible.
"That life is long over, we've been here safe and happy for so long together. You've always been safe hear with me. Stan you might not remember but I can still remember you shaking and afraid when I got you into that car; when I stripped your clothes off and threw you into the shower. When I finally spoke up and you looked up because you recognized my voice and we both ended up crying on the shower floor because of everything that had happened between us." That was it, the lies were strapped in and Ford had no way of backing out. Not that he wanted to in the slightest, because Stanley curled close to him and looked into his eyes with trust and love that hadn't been there since they were just children.
That look was empowering and truth be told; Ford was the older sibling and should have done a much better looking out for him. How could he let so much wrong happen to the one who followed him screaming into this world? Stan, who used to hold his hand when the other children called him a freak and even took the blame so that their father never so much as raised an eyebrow at him. The same brother that he had kissed the bruise of and later on moped up blood for. Stanley was undoubtedly his to take care of and it was about time he started doing a better job.
He hugged Stanley close and kissed the top of his head defiantly. Ford took in his twin's swallowed breath and drug his lips down Stan's cheek next. The other was still, but didn't pull away in the slightest. "This feels familiar, do we always do this?" Stan murmured and leaned farther into Ford, like he was holding onto a lifeline.
A lump formed in Ford's throat that was quickly swallowed and not so easily digested. Just who had Stan been with in this vulnerable position, and why weren't they still around? No, Stan was his and his alone. They had always done this, been this close; cuddled together, kissed each other. Now that Ford was back home, they would never have to be apart again.
Stan didn't kiss him back the first time their lips met, but on the second persistent pull from Ford, he relented and opened his mouth to the older twin. It was heaven to kiss Stan, just as Ford had pictured for years. They molded together like they had come out of the same package, just like Ford had always known they would. He pulled back to smile at Stanley, and let him catch his breath. They were both tired and old, this would have to continue when they had more energy. Like in the morning after they woke up in each other's arms, tangled so much you couldn't tell one from the other. That didn't stop Ford from pulling his yawning twin in for another kiss and then dragging his lips back up to rest on the others forehead. "Get some sleep Stan, we can talk more in the morning." He explained tiredly.
Stan pouted a bit, but listened to Ford's wise words like he should and settled back down to sleep. "And if in the morning I want to do something more than talk? You know, to jog my memory." Stan spluttered out nervously.
Ford grinned at him and kissed the tip of his nose. His brother certainly was perfect in every way, and besides doing things that had been done thousands of times before was good for jogging memory. He could wait to remind him just how healthy their sexual relationship had been and all the things that Stan had never been able to get enough of. First things first though, sleep.