#stadley

You held Stan gently in his hand, cradling him in the crook of your palm. Stan was looking worse for wear—his Mr. Mystery outfit was in tatters. His bat was held in his hand, and he had it in a limp grip. His chest was rising and falling in quick bursts. His eyes were drooping from exhaustion, but you could still see them darting around, scanning for threats that you made sure wouldn’t be here.

Sweat poured down his temple. There were splatters of blood on his usually crisp white shirt, and you had to fight the urge to touch them—you still weren’t used to your current size, and the last thing you wanted to do was hurt him. After a few moments, he leaned back from his sitting position to look up at you. “Where the hell have you been?”.

You felt there was more to that statement. You recognized the stubborn maneuvering around the subject of his feelings. The tone, dancing around saying the real thing, one you were familiar with for a long time. “I ran into some issues after the whole bloody sky turned red. Glad I saw you in time to give those eyebats a proper smacking.”

Calling them “issues” was an understatement; if there was one thing that hadn’t changed about Billy, it was the fact that he always knew how to make a mess out of things. Keeping the glamour on was taking more of a toll than it should be, especially now that you had enlarged yourself. It was strange (heh) to see Stan so small. Did he also adore peering down at you the way you were, holding the center of your multiverse in the palm of your hand?

Stan leaned against one of the fingers at his back. You carefully bent your index finger towards his face. He held it, hesitantly at first before he let go of his facade and allowed himself to be known by you. “I thought I lost ya, Tad,” he murmured. “Or that you left to...y’know.”

You did. Even now, even when you were pass the point of no return, a part of you still denied this was all the Billy you knew. When he extended his hand to you, a part of you wanted to take it. A part of you wanted to keep this shard of your past, of the sweet moments of childhood innocence and hope for the future. Of the kid with the bright eye who loved the stars so much he would wave his tiny hands towards them and babble for hours. Of the kid who loved the silly straws and just wanted to play and was endlessly curious, who cried when he broke things by accident and always begged for forgiveness. Of the sweet voice that called for “Taddy”, that said you were his best friend and begged you to always be around him.

But this was not that. Bill had burned their home and laughed when you begged him to stop. He had dragged the stars down and crashed them into planets, shattering them all in a fiery blaze of chaos and heat. He had become a black hole, destroying anything near and dear to him to feed his madness.

Billy was gone the moment he started the fire.

But Stan had stayed the same, despite everything. Always present, always fighting to keep his family together. Always grinning when he pulled off a con, always working hard, always bragging about his wonderful niece and nephew and the Pines family name. Always there those nights your mind drifted into the void, when you craved warmth and comfort and familiarity. Always keeping you in his hands as if you were the most precious thing he’d ever held. Always making sure you came back, failing to hide the worry every time you were gone just a little bit longer than usual.

“And let go of our tax benefits? Never.”

Stan chuckled weakly. “Yeah.” He sighed, and let the bat fall onto your palm.

“Come on, then. You’re still looking for the kids, right?”

He nodded tiredly. “Just ran into some trouble when ya found me. Nothing I couldn’t take care of, y’know.”

You nodded as if in agreement. No point in pointing out how terrible of a liar he was. “I’ll give you a lift. Lucky for you, it’s free of charge for handsome con men.”

He laughed then, and you remembered, as you always did, how much you would do to keep that laugh in your life.