From The Real Lee is here: "I was just thinking of Soos in Not What He Seems, and how he says he wants to be legally adopted by Stan and be called Stan Jr, then by the end tackling his father figure to protect the twins. It just really hammered in that Stan served as Soos's father figure in his life, and I really want to see fatherly Stan supporting Soos as a kid, and Soos feeling conflicted tackling Stan in zero gravity."

Aw, you guys seem to love the feels... especially in that last episode, damn. I'll give this a go! Enjoy!

Get It Right

The kid was an odd one. Stan had only really hired him because he seemed like he was good with tools (better than the last handyman, anyway). Despite being young as he was, the kid wasn't that bad at it either. He was clumsy but he always managed to fix whatever he'd broken. The older man grudgingly admitted a few weeks back that the boy was good with that screwdriver of his, and the look on his face... well, it was weird and he told the boy to stop making it.

It was obvious the boy had some sort of attachment to Stan and he wasn't sure how he felt about it. He was a little uneasy, wondering why the kid always looked at him like some sort of role model (he snorted aloud at that; his brother would have gotten a kick outta that). Then again, the boy wasn't doing anything creepy about it, so he supposed it was alright and for now, he let it slide.

It was two weeks later and the Mystery Shack was nearly empty, despite it being their usual rush hour time. Stan was bored and it was clear that things weren't going to get any busier. They had only had about twenty people come in so far and it was already past lunchtime.

He sighed from where he stood in the entranceway to the kitchen, glancing over to see how the kid was holding up. Much to his surprise, the boy was resting his chin on his arms on the counter. It was weird to see him look so glum. Was it from the lack of excitement?

Probably not, given that the last time they had had barely any customers the boy still was grinning widely at everyone.

Stan vaguely wondered if he should do anything about it.

The boy (who's name he suddenly realized he didn't know... he hadn't paid much attention to when the kid was introducing himself) sighed sadly and stared at the floor. Something about his expression was tearing at Stan's heart and he hated it.

Okay, maybe just asking the preteen what was wrong would cheer him up.

Stan hesitantly walked over to where he sat and leaned against the counter awkwardly. The kid didn't even blink. It was so strange to see him not smiling up at the old man immediately.

"Uh, you okay there, kid?"

It was admittedly a little funny to watch the boy jump and his head snapped up to meet Stan's gaze. He turned a little red and looked away. Still no smile.

"Y-Yeah, Mr. Pines. Why - Why wouldn't I be okay? Ha..."

Something was definitely off. The kid's voice was nearly emotionless and the melancholy look in his eyes was making Stan's heart ache again.

He sighed and sat himself down on the stool beside the kid, wincing at the sharp pain in his back. Oh, he was getting too old for this.

"Listen, kid. If something's bothering you, you don't have to pretend it's all okay. I can tell when somebody's lying."

The boy bit his lip at that and linked his fingers together on the counter, watching them clasp each other firmly. For a minute, Stan was not sure if the boy would respond and they simply sat in an awkward silence.

"W-Well... since you asked..." The boy met his eyes and it stunned the older male to see tears in the usually enthusiastic kid's eyes.

"To-Today is my thirteenth birthday a-and I didn't even get a postcard from my dad this year. N-Not like I need one since...I know he won't make it anyway. H-He never... He never d-d-does."

Stan found himself staring at the kid as he spoke. Of all the things to make him upset, he'd never expected a deadbeat dad. And while he couldn't imagine living without his own father when he was younger, he could definitely relate to the boy's pain at least a little. His father had never bothered to go to the twins' birthday parties, always too busy with his work. Sure, he would wish them a happy birthday and give the twins their gifts but he had never actually gone to one of their parties.

"I... I just - " a sniff from the kid brought Stan out of his unpleasant memories. "I just hate my birthday sometimes. I know he'll never b-be there and I just... I want him here."

Stan unconsciously laid a hand on the kid's shoulder, lowering his gaze as he thought to himself. He was probably going to regret this but...

"Look... uh, I know how you feel. Heck, my pop never made it to any of my parties either. But you can still have fun without your dad here. And when was the last time you saw him anyways?"

"Uh..." The kid rubbed his tear-filled eyes. "I don't know. When I was a baby, I guess."

He suddenly had the urge to punch something (namely a certain adult).

"If he hasn't been around since then, he's not worth your time. I mean, just my opinion, but anyone who doesn't bother showing up for their kid when they most certainly can...they're a loser in my book. It's like lying to someone for over a decade, telling them you'll come for them."

The young boy looked up at him, eyes wide. The start of that familiar adoration crept back into his large eyes and a smile twitched at the edge of both males' lips unconsciously.

"Y-you think so? I-I mean, I don't hate him o-or anything, but - "

"I'm not asking you to hate your father. I'm just saying that you shouldn't hate your birthday because some deadbeat never comes. You can be sad, yeah, but don't hate yourself for being born on a particular day or whatever."

The boy smiled softly, something akin to gratitude and that familiar happiness in his eyes. Something about it warmed Stan's heart.

The door to the Shack opened and an older woman walked in carrying a large present. She smiled and walked over to the counter with it.

"Happy birthday, my little teenager! I thought I would come to you since you're working today."

The boy blushed but took the gift. "Abuelita..."

Yet another thing he hadn't known about the boy. He definitely recognized the grandma now that he looked harder at her. She was always in the grocery store, usually buying cereal. Now he knew who she was buying it for.

The grandma met his gaze and her soft gaze hardened slightly. "Hello, Mr. Pines. How are you?"

"Uh, I'm good. Getting old, breathing, the usual." He wasn't good talking with women. He glanced at the boy who was now opening his present, and he bit his lip as an idea came to mind.

No. No, he wouldn't.

No, he could almost hear his twin brother scold him.

"Say, uh, kid... since it's your birthday and it's not like the Shack is busy... why don't you take the day off?"

The boy froze and looked up sharply. The shock on his face was almost comical.

"Wh-Really, Mr. Pines?"

"Yeah, why not?" Stan tried to look nonchalant, as if he didn't care about whether or not the kid was currently smiling at him in adoration. Geez, this kid's face must hurt a lot from all the smiling he did.

"Th-Thank you!" Without any warning, the boy hugged him and it was the old man's turn to freeze in astonishment. The grandma gave him an amused but grateful smile as the boy hesitantly let go.

"Come along, Soos. I've got dinosaur-shaped cookies to make!"

The boy (Soos, what a weird name. Must be a nickname) grabbed his gift, beamed at Stan one last time and hurried out after her. Stan felt something odd flutter in his chest and quickly coughed to make it go away.

Right. That was weird. He wasn't ever going to do that again.

GETITRIGHTGETITRIGHTGETITRIGHTGETITRIGHTGETITRIGHTGETITRIGHT

Soos tackled the old man as he spotted Stan trying to make his way toward Mabel. A small voice in his head, the small innocent child-like part of him that had never gone away, screamed at him to let Mr. Pines go. What are you doing? He's practically your dad!

As Stan tried to protest and shove him aside, he clung on tightly, fighting back the wave of sadness washing over him. Something the man had once told him came to mind: It's like lying to someone for over a decade, telling them you'll come for them.

Tears sprang to his eyes as he said aloud, "Sorry, Mr. Pines (if that even is your real name), but I've got a new mission now. Protecting these kids!"

I'm sorry. I don't know what to believe anymore, Dad.

Okay...I need to go sit in the corner and think about what I've just written.

(I'm not crying, you're crying)