A Friend (Stanford Pines x Reader)

The Truth

It didn't take long for Ford to fall into the depths of madness. Gone was the eager, determined man you had grown to love, replaced by a paranoid, skittish ghost of who he used to be. He had confined himself to his lab, working tirelessly to destroy the portal, muttering incomprehensible things under his breath as he worked. His habit of forgoing sleep only increased. Truthfully, you couldn't remember when the last time he slept even was. Any attempt you made of coaxing him into bed was futile. 

You too were experiencing the effects. While you hadn't been dragged to border-line insanity, you were crushed by guilt day in and day out. You couldn't help but blame yourself for Fiddleford's insanity. You hadn't seen or heard from your former partner in days. He swiftly packed up his belongings, tossed them into his car, and sped away as fast as he could. You could only hope that he was doing somewhat okay, wherever he may have wound up. 

The guilt made it difficult for you to function. Clutter quickly accumulated throughout the house. The lights were almost always off, casting the once warm and inviting cabin into darkness. Today was one of the days where you were able to make dinner, as even that was becoming draining. You couldn't bring yourself do anything extravagant, so grilled chicken, canned corn, and mashed potatoes would have to suffice. In search of the can, you found a bag of unopened jelly beans in the pantry. You grabbed it, hoping Ford would appreciate the gesture. His words still hurt, yes, but you realized that he was angry, and when people are angry, they normally acted without thinking. Slowly, you opened the door to the basement and made your way down the stairs. 

Once you got to the bottom, you scanned the room for Ford. In typical fashion, he was kneeling beside one of the machines, dismantling it rather aggressively. You hesitated for a moment, then decided to announce your presence before you came any closer. "Ford," You said gently, "I made dinner."

Ford turned his head to face you. He stared at you for a moment, as though he didn't recognize you, then jumped up. "Y/N, you shouldn't be down here." You frowned, not making any movement to leave. "I just came to tell you that dinner's ready."

"Don't come any closer!" he said with more force, not exactly a shout, but that of a parent who was trying to get the attention of a child about to run into the street. You tensed, taking a step back. His expression softened, and he sighed. "I'll come up, Y/N, just please, don't come down here." Ford's body was thinner than usual, a confirmation that he hadn't been eating regularly. His face was paler than you had ever seen it before. In his baggy eyes you could see nothing but concern and the slightest bit of fear. "Promise you'll come up as soon as I do?" you asked. 

"Right after you," Ford assured. You sighed, and reluctantly, retraced your way up the stairs. 

True to his word, Ford came up after you. You placed his plate at his usual spot at the table, moving away some of the empty coffee mugs to make space. 

"Do you want to explain what that was?" you asked. Ford looked up at you and sighed. He brought his hands up and slowly rubbed at his eyes, more than likely trying to alleviate a headache. "I know that I shouldn't have raised my voice like that, but after... after what happened to McGucket... I can't bear the thought of you getting hurt, Y/N. I dragged you into this, and I don't want you getting wrapped up in the consequences. If you were to ever get hurt, or even worse, because of me, I will never be able to live with myself. I love you too much to lose you,"

You extended your hand across the table and took his, giving it a squeeze as you spoke. "Ford, look at me." When his eyes met yours, though, you didn't know what to say. What could you say? There was nothing you could say or do that would change the circumstances you were in. You couldn't rejuvenate him--not immediately, anyway. Deciding to stop thinking, you let your emotions take over to guide the words. You needed to be totally upfront. Honesty and compassion was the only way to get through this.