#drunkle-stan

He really didn’t know what had caused it, but one second he was leaning back against the counter, a fresh cup of coffee in hand, teasing Stan about some tv show or cartoon he had caught the other watching long after the kids had left the shack for California, when his stomach gave an uncertain lurch, washing itself over with nausea and then…he was blearily opening his eyes, the side of his face stinging and everything in a familiar blur that his eyes naturally adjusted to once glasses were gone.

((I’m super cool with it! Wendigo!AU is good with me.))

He should have known better than to open the door, in all honesty he had forgotten that he had at one point tried to get back in touch with his twin. Then…the forest happened and with the small amount of vision he had…it took him time to realize just why that voice had left so many bells ringing in his head.

It left him gawking, well the best he could. Throat suddenly very dry and mind trying to work out how to respond. This wasn’t what he had wanted when he had reached out…how many months ago was that?

Horribly curved nails kept their hold on the doorknob, gaze settled blurred onto a figure large enough to be his brother…but…he could feel his stomach practically vibrate in anticipation…closing the door would be better after all.

{From the Nightmares Starter Prompts;}

@drunkle-stan 

How many times had Stanford been awoken now by the concerned shakes of his brother? Or by his own screams from the dreams that haunted his every sleep? He had lost count.

It didn't matter, Ford’s answer was always the same: “Go back to sleep, Stanley.” Though this time, exhausted, he tacked on “I don't expect anything from you,” before he turned away from his brother, rolling back over in his bunk. Ford attempted to keep his composure, and if the lighting in the room were any brighter it would be clear how pale he was. How damp from the sweat his skin was. He couldn't stop himself from shaking however, no matter how much Stanford quickly wanted to forget what he'd just seen. The images wouldn't escape his mind, and involuntarily he was whispering ‘go away, go away,’ over and over again. It wasn't even directed at his brother.