#rockabilysplit

A big point of group therapy, particularly with families, was to provide a safe space to observe and mediate interactions between members. However, with the Smith family, it was very clear to Dr. Wong that neither Beth nor Rick would feel safe in such a setting. Instead, she decided to talking to them alone, away from any need to prove things to others they cared about. 

Her opening question, very much despite Rick’s efforts, told her a lot about where and how this session was probably going to go. It was a challenge for her honestly – many of the usual rules didn’t seem to apply here, especially when Rick genuinely seemed more comfortable making this into a fight than a symbiotic session. In particular, the fact that Rick called her ‘parasitic’  told her that he not only viewed needing help as a sign of weakness, but the act of offering it as an inherent challenge. 

“Rick” she replied calmly. “I’m not here to undermine or attack you in any way. I know the very idea of asking for help from someone you see as inferior to yourself is revolting for you, and understandably so. I have no intention of holding your hand through anything – it’s clear you do not need nor desire that.”

“Statistically speaking, yes. Y-Y-You do know that lie detectors exist, right? Not that I –uuRRP–need one. Your face does that thing when you lie. Micro expressions tell a whole different story, Pines.”

“My face does not “do that thing” when I lie. And I’m not lying this time. Honest.” He was totally lying. It was very seldom Stan didn’t lie about anything and everything.

Time to switch tactics. Distraction!

At first Ford didn’t answer back, lightly wondering if he was actually getting a real apology or not. But eventually he conceded, “…thanks. I shouldn’t have pushed you to get to that point anyway..”

To be fair, he could barely remember what part of the heated argument had set the other off. But he would admit…horrible form or not that punch had hurt pretty damn good.

And his aim had been good enough to catch him in the lips, thankfully not higher, and he had been sitting with a cloth pressed firm against the bottom-most lip for a while, apparently the fight-and him clearly losing-had settled things.

“I’m sorry for hitting back too…I didn’t actually hit anything though..did I?” The thought of him flailing and horrible attempting to do so drew something of a snort out of him.

“Well you know how my mom is, she wouldn’t excatly let me go to a party, let alone one that is going to be till midnight.” Beth turned to her friend, shrugging her shoulders a bit as she adjusted her backpack. “I mean...I want to go but I don’t know?” 

“Well I heard that Brad is going to be going and that he broke up with Cindy so I mean...If you really, really don’t think you can go that’s alright but I think you should sneak out, it will be tons of fun Beth.” Her friend pushed a bit more, attempting to get Beth to go even though the blonde showed a bit of discontent about going. Truth be told, Lillian just didn’t want to go alone herself. 

“Brad’s going?” Beth looked away, blushing a bit as she adjusted her backpack once more. Truth be told, Beth had a crush on Brad and now she had a slight urge to go, if she had it was possible her and Brad could ‘get to know’ one another. Finals had been tomorrow, and sneaking out had meant she had to get passed her father who sometimes stayed up till the sun rose. Beth knew it would be easy to get past her mother because she went to bed so early. “I...I guess I might go, just..Just throw a rock at my window before you head there and I will decide then, okay?” Beth forced a smile as she stood in front of her house. 

“You wont regret it, trust meee~!” called out Lillian before giving Beth a small hug and heading to her own house.

With a nod Beth entered her house and kicked off her shoes as she walked farther inside. In the dinning room she’d take off her jacket and throw her backpack on a spare chair before wandering to the garage, knocking on it before opening the door. 

Rick remained both physically and mentally unmoved from his position; half sprawled across the couch, taking up every pillow as well as forming Stan’s own lap into a suitable leg rest. The normalcy came as a surprisingly satisfying change to interdimensional life. That, and wafer cookies. You just couldn’t get them quite as good on any other planet. After a rather underwhelming scene of returning to the shack in his usual fashion, Rick had set himself about a nosy display of rifling through the kitchen,  helping himself to whatever he pleased before settling down to quite literally put his feet up.

“Aw, c–c'mon Stan. Y–Y-You can drop the irritable housewife act, you can’t bullshit —uuuRRp– me.”

Soon enough things would be back to normal. An interesting anecdote or souvenir was sure to soften the edges of the man he’d left behind so easily. Instinctively Rick’s hand dipped to the flask in his pocket, only to result in a frown touching upon his features.

“Hey – do– do –Euuugh– you have any scotch? My flask is empty.”

Stan continued to give Rick a half-hearted glare of a look. Truth be told, he was happy to see his old friend in one piece. It had been a long time. Too long. It was nice not having to wonder if he was still alive or in trouble somewhere. 

“I ain’t no housewife, especially not yours. Did those wafers come from the kitchen? I don’t care if you are a stick; you better hand some over. Can’t go eating another man’s cookies and not give him any.” Stan held out a hand expectantly.

Stan was not often in a good mood. A lot of times he could pretend to be in a good mood, especially when he was trying to convince people to buy his cheap junk. But genuinely, he tended to be pretty miserable, and well, alone. Not today, though. One of his scams had managed to go off better than he expected it would. He imagined maybe it would be a day or few before people caught on, and he’d have to get out of dodge, but until then, he was enjoying his success. He had made a pretty penny for himself and had celebrated by buying a clean pair of clothes and cheap cologne (there was really no helping the fact that he still didn’t have access to a shower, but he figured, hey, maybe he smelled... passable. Barely). 

He even bought himself a decent meal at a cheap fast food joint. Having food in his belly always gave him a bit of a mood boost. So, of course, riding high on his success, he couldn’t help but think maybe his luck was finally turning around. That’s probably why he found himself in front of a casino, grinning broadly at the flashing neon lights and practically strutting on through the door. 

As tempting as the slot machines were, Stan figured his best bets were at the game table because he had all the things he needed to cheat with. Cards up his sleeve, loaded dice, the works. In fact, the first game table he sat at, he managed to quickly rack up some winnings by virtue of cheating his way to victory. And thanks to dexterous hands and experience and a little luck, nobody was the wiser. 

Heck, he might actually be able to afford a room at a hotel for a month if he kept this up. He was trying to decide which table to gravitate to next when he heard a bit of commotion. He could see some people getting up and leaving, frustrated and mopey. There was a guy with, er, interesting hair, raking in a huge pile of winnings and gloating a bit. Slurring his words.

Stan figured he had probably gotten really lucky. Stan lingered about a moment longer, watching as a few people started to sit down at the table. He started sizing up the other people. Guy with tattoos... probably knew what he was doing. But wobbling. So... also drunk. Fresh-faced guy, kind of young-looking, wearing a shirt with a university logo on it. So, probably, naive. Easy to take advantage of. 

Stan had seen enough and figured he better grab himself a seat before somebody else did. Drunk. Drunk. Naive. And then, there was the old lady. She could be a problem, but he was willing to bet those old eyes of hers weren’t as sharp as they used to be. He had to resist the urge to rub his hands together outright. 

This was going to be like taking ice cream from a toddler, which was technically something he had done once in one of his lower moments and wasn’t exactly proud to admit, but that was besides the point. 

I’m happy to be part of it if you ever start one up? You’re always free to just prod me about things on discord too.

I totally wasn't responsible for spamming you with Pokemon for this XD