HAT: This is gonna get weird, but I'd like to point out that this won't be Stancest at all. As interesting as the art and some of the stories may be, I don't do that. Just brotherly fluff that may border on awkward now and then... like now. Why does awkward look like it's spelled wrong to me right now? *shrugs* Oh, well, it'll get better sooner or later.
Disclaimer: If they kill Stanley in the show, you're gonna wish I owned Gravity Falls... aka: I don't own it, just the plot.
Stanley groans when his stomach demands food; it feels like his stomach is trying to fight him. He gets up and knows that this is going to be difficult because his body already wants to lie back down. Despite his body's wants he needs food so he wraps his blanket around himself and shuffles all the way to the kitchen.
His stomach doesn't care what he wants so he decides that some ramen noodles will be fine until he remembers that every time he's sick, it's ramen noodles that he throws up if it's the first heavy meal he eats so he puts the ramen back and looks for something else to eat. The most appealing thing that he finds to eat are apples and the saltine crackers so he gorges himself on that and then goes to sit on the recliner to regain his energy.
"Stanley?!"
"Here," Stanley calls, but coughs almost immediately.
There are rapid footsteps and then Stanley's doppelgänger pokes his head into the living room. "What're you doing out here? You're supposed to be resting in your room!"
"Got hungry, acme out here to eat."
Stanford walks over and then jump back while covering his nose. "You stink!"
"I haven't taken a shower in two days, poindexter," he snaps before grabbing a tissue and blowing his nose.
"C'mon, you're getting a shower," Stanford grunts while taking Stanley's arm and pulling him to a standing position.
Being too weak to fight his brother he instead goes for verbally resisting. "I'm too weak to take a shower, can't you just let me rest until tomorrow or something?"
"No, you're getting clean even if I have to scrub you down myself."
"Noooooo!" Stanley whines.
Stanford won't hear it and keeps dragging Stanley to the bathroom. He turns on the water and full the tub with steaming water and then for the next five minutes Stanley struggles to keep his warm blanket, but ultimately loses and ends up hugging himself for warmth in his wife beater and boxers while glaring at his twin.
"Strip."
The larger twin's eyes widen and he backs away from his brother. "No! I'm going back to bed."
A sigh. "Looks like we're doing this the hard way."
"What're you- ah! No, stop!"
Stanley knees his bother in the stomach to keep him from taking off his wife beater, but Stanford is persistent and manages to get the wife beater off. After that Stanley realizes that he's fighting a losing battle and instead gets un the tub and sulks.
(A/N: You can pretty much ignore the rest of this, it kinda gets off track (It's three in the morning and I'm about to go to sleep, leave me alone)
"Stop pouting," Stanford grunts as he rolls his sleeves up and sits on a stool beside the tub.
"I can wash myself," Stanley insists, though his body protest from moving.
"Yeah... I don't believe you. Just cooperate with me, please."
Stanley grudgingly accepts being bathed by his bother, however uncomfortable it is. Stanford dips a washcloth in the water and puts soap in it before scrubbing Stanley's back. It feels weird, but not having to exert energy to wash himself is something he'd grateful for- rest assured, he'll never admit it. Stanley feels embarrassed to have to be washed by someone else. He figured he'd die before he reached that point- or at least he was hoping- but being sick and old doesn't help him at all in avoiding this.
After a few minutes Stanley manages to get some strength in his limbs and grabs the washcloth. "I've got the rest of this."
Stanford shows the palm of his hands and backs away. "No problem there."
Stanley washes the rest of his body in peace and once he's out of the tub and drying off he realizes what clothes he's left and he nearly runs out to yell at his bother if it weren't for the fact that Mabel lives in the house and Wendy comes and goes when she pleases most of the time.
"Damn it, 'Ford," Stanley growls and first puts on his boxers and then contemplates walking around shirtless, but decides against it and puts on the pink pajamas with rainbows on them. He shuffles into his room and finds Mabel there with a camera. "Mabel!"
"I never miss a scrapbookertunity! Look, we match!"
He can't stay mad at her- he doesn't even have the energy to glare- so instead he gets into bed. "How late is it?"
"About two in the morning. I couldn't sleep so I came in here."
"What if I came in naked?"
She pales. "Please don't even mention that."
With a roll of his eyes he takes off his glasses and puts them on the night stand. "Aren't you afraid of getting sick or something?"
She shrugs. "I wanted a slumber party with my grunkle."
He smiles regretfully. "How about we have a slumber party after I get better?"
"Okay. Goodnight, Grunkle Stan," she says while kissing his temple and then runs out of the room.
I love that kid, but sometimes she's too weird, even for me, he thinks fondly and then takes his medicine that's laid out for him before before he goes to sleep.
HAT: ... Told you that it got weird. *yawns and sits only to fall into a black hole*
Stanford: *runs over and peaks into black hole* Does this happen a lot?
Mabel: *nonchalantly picks up a blanket, a paper, and a crochet hook* Get ready for a big explosion.
Stanford: *frowns* None of that can make an explosion.
Mabel: You'd be surprised. *jumps into the black hole with a battle cry*
Stanford: Review! *jumps in after Mabel*
HAT: HALP!