20. Roleswap AU

Holy shit this is one hell of a prompt. It is the kind of prompt that could easily spin into a full-length fic. But here’s just a ficlet instead.

Send me characters and a number and I’ll write you a ficlet!



“So, there’s a talent scout coming to your next match?” Ford asked, trying to muster up some false excitement for his twin. Stan nodded. “That’s…promising.” He and Ford were sitting on their swings, watching the sunset.

“Apparently some school wants a boxer, and they looked around and saw me, so they’re sending someone.”

“If you do well, then you’ll go to college, I suppose,” Ford said quietly. Stan shrugged.

“Haven’t decided about that part yet. I mean, we’ve almost finished up the Stan O’War, and I’ve seen what years of boxing does to your face. Can’t pick up girls with an ugly mug. Don’t have enough charm for that.”

“But college is-”

“Sixer, you know full well that I don’t like school. Why would I want to do even more of it?”

“Heh. I guess so,” Ford said, slightly assuaged.

“School’s your thing. Not mine.” Ford nodded mutely. His stomach turned over at his twin’s comment.

Then why didn’t I get scouted?

—–

Stan helped Ford get out of the car and walk up to the pawn shop. He opened the door; the bell jingled. Filbrick looked up from the antique gun he was polishing. His lips turned down in a dissatisfied sneer.

“You!” he snarled. Stan swallowed.

“Pops, I’m sorry I wasn’t-” he started.

“Not you, your twin,” Filbrick said, setting the gun down, marching over to the twins, and grabbing Ford by the shirt. Though his face was obscured by the bruises covering it, his terror shone through. “What the hell do you think you were doing, keeping Stan from his match?”

“Pops, it’s not his fault, it’s Crampelter’s,” Stan protested.

“Was I talking to you?” his father growled. Stan blanched and took an instinctive step backward.

“N-no.”

“Do you realize what this boxing match could have been for us?” Filbrick asked Ford. “We coulda been rich if Stan went on to be a professional athlete. You cost this family millions!”

“I- I didn’t mean to,” Ford said desperately. “I was on my way there to support Stan and ran into Crampelter and-”

“Made your twin miss his match because he was protecting your skinny, wimpy ass.”

“Filbrick, what’s going on?” Ma Pines asked, walking into the pawn shop.

“Getting rid of this freeloader,” Filbrick replied. He dragged Ford over to the door and shoved him roughly outside. “Don’t come back until you’ve-” Stan barreled past his father to join Ford on the steps. “Stanley, get your ass back in here.”

“No. If Ford goes, I go,” Stan said firmly. Filbrick’s face turned an inhuman shade of red. Stan struggled to not cower under his father’s disapproving gaze. A moment passed, while the three men were frozen. Finally, Filbrick slammed the door closed. Stan and Ford stared at the closed door.

“Did- did he just-” Ford started. He clamped his mouth shut when the door opened briefly. Filbrick tossed a pair of duffel bags at his sons, then closed the door again. “We’re- he-”

“He kicked us out,” Stan said in a low voice. “I didn’t think he’d actually- no, you know what? I’m not surprised. He’s been talking about putting me on the streets for years.”

“What do we do?” Ford whispered. “We’re homeless.” Stan helped Ford up and brushed dirt off him.

“Nah, not completely. We’ve got the Stanleymobile still, and the Stan O’War, too.”

“Stanley. A car and a boat do not constitute a home,” Ford said flatly.

“It’s better than nothing,” Stan replied firmly. He put an arm around Ford’s shoulders. “And we’ve got each other, so that’s pretty good. I’d hate to think of how fucked up you’d be if you were on your own out here.”

“Or you were on your own,” Ford said. Stan waved a hand.

“I think I’d be fine.” Ford chuckled weakly, but then sobered.

“Stan, I’m- I’m sorry I ruined your chance at going to a good school and getting a promising career.”

“Didn’t you listen to me the other day? I didn’t want to do it anyways. All you did is save me the trouble of dealing with turning the boxing people down.” He looked at his twin. “High six?” he said, holding up a hand. Ford smiled hesitantly.

“High six.”