When Shermie got to his parent's house after work that night to pick up his son, he found Ford sitting on the front step holding Isaac.

"Ford?"

Ford looked up, looking like he hadn't slept in days. He had looked just fine that morning. Better than fine, he had been really excited about his presentation for West Coast Tech. There was no need to ask how that had gone, was there?

"He just fell asleep," Ford told him vaguely.

Shermie bent down to take the baby. "Why are you out here?"

Ford jerked his head toward the house. "It's too loud in there. He wouldn't stop crying."

Isaac was not all that fussy of a baby. He'd been known to sleep through the vacuum before. He wondered just what was going on in there that Ford felt he had to take the baby outside.

"Well thanks for bringing him out here," he said. "I know that you don't always have a lot of time to take away from your studies."

Ford let out a sound that might have been a laugh or a sob.

Now he was getting concerned. "Ford?"

"I don't think I'd get anything done tonight anyway."

"What's going on?" Shermie asked, an anxious feeling forming in the pit of his stomach.

"I…" Ford trailed off, shaking his head. "I just…"

It was clear that Ford wasn't going to be able to get the words out easily and Shermie decided not to force it out of him.

"I'm going to go get Isaac's things, maybe talk to Mom and Dad," Shermie told him.

At last, Ford stood up. "You'd better give me Isaac back, then. It took forever for him to fall asleep and you're not going to want to bring a screaming baby in there, trust me."

Shermie handed his son back and, bracing himself, entered the house.

"-please! He had this coming for years! Just because he was always your favorite doesn't mean that he wasn't dragging this family down from the moment the doctors told us you still had one more to go!" his father was shouting.

"Why don't you tell me why you had his goddamn bag packed? None of us knew that was going to happen!" his mother screamed back.

The thing was, Shermie's parents did argue. They argued an awful lot sometimes and they never seemed to have a problem doing it in front of their children. But something about this felt different. Something about this felt like something he didn't really want to get in the middle of but he needed Isaac's things and if something had happened that was so bad it through his family into disarray then at some point he was going to have to face it.

Shermie spied Isaac's bag, already packed, and picked it up before following the sounds of his parents' fight.

They were in the kitchen and his mother was holding a steak knife, not that this seemed to make his father uncomfortable in any way.

"He could be dead for all you know!"

"It's been two hours. He's fine," his father said dismissively.

"Mom, Dad," Shermie said loudly.

They turned towards him as one.

"Oh, Shermie," his mother said, sounding flustered. "I see you found the bag. Isaac is…he's…"

"Ford has him outside," Shermie assured her. "Why don't you tell me what's going on?"

"Your father," his mother said with an angry look in his father's direction, "has thrown your brother out to die on the streets."

Shermie felt his blood run cold. He had thought it was unusual that Ford had been the one to take Isaac and flee outside while Stan was nowhere to be seen. He had thought maybe Stan just hadn't been home.

"Stanley?"

"He is no longer welcome in my house," his father said coldly. "And it is my house paid for with my money."

"You're not the only one who makes money around here," his mother retorted.

"Why? What happened?" Shermie asked, trying to keep them on track. It didn't make sense. This morning, when he dropped Isaac off, his father had been so happy, actually smiling for once. The words 'I'm impressed' had left his lips multiple times! The only times Shermie had ever heard his father say those words before was when he graduated college with honors and then when Isaac was born. And sure Stan had been a little quiet but not looking as if he were in any danger of being kicked out!

"Your brother's project didn't work," his father said curtly. "It stopped moving and he isn't going to be able to go to West Coast Tech like we'd hoped. This severely reduces his chances of making millions one day."

Of course with his father it all came back to money. Shermie closed his eyes briefly to try and hold back a powerful urge to deck his father. Ford lost his dream – no wonder he looked so out of it outside – and now he'd lost his twin, too. There was no more future millions so somehow Stanley was cast out.

"What does that have to do with Stan?" Shermie asked, as calmly as he was able.

"It turns out that that knucklehead sabotaged his project," his father said.

Shermie couldn't believe his ears. "No. He wouldn't."

"He did," his father confirmed. "He didn't even deny it and Ford found one of those stupid toffee peanut bags he's always eating right by it. I guess he was jealous of Ford's success and trying to drag him back down to his level. He's always been pulling him down. I've put up with that for as long as I could, on account of him being family, but I will not stand for him sabotaging this family's future. If he can somehow bring us millions of dollars then I'll welcome him back and even apologize. Until then, I am washing my hands of this whole sorry state of affairs."

"He's your son!" his mother cried.

"I never wanted twins." With that, he turned to go.

The moment he left the room, all the fight seemed to drain out of his mother. She dropped the knife on the counter and broke down crying.

Shermie wasn't really sure what to do. The news that his seventeen-year-old brother had been thrown away like so much garbage and that something had happened to Ford's project was hitting him hard, too. And he had never seen his mother cry before.

But what else could he do but hold her?

Eventually, she calmed down and assured him that she was fine and was just going off to bed. Given that his parents shared a bedroom he wasn't so sure of that but she insisted and what else was he supposed to do? Stand here all night?

Reluctantly, he went back outside.

Ford was still holding his sleeping nephew and looking like the sky had fallen.

"I told you," Ford said listlessly.

"I can't believe any of it," Shermie said, shaking his head. "I mean, I knew that Dad wasn't too thrilled about having twins and you know all the effort he put into your guy's names. But still, to just…Stan. I am never going to forgive him for this."

"He'll be okay," Ford said but he sounded as though he was trying to convince himself.

"I know he will be," Shermie agreed.

Ford looked up at him, surprise in his eyes.

"I have to go," Shermie said gently. "You should get some sleep."

Ford nodded vaguely in a way that made it clear he probably wasn't going to get a wink of it before handing Isaac back.

Shermie drove home as quickly as he felt comfortable, explained the situation to Rachel, and left again to find his brother.

He had no idea where a distraught Stan might flee to and could only hope he wasn't going to do something drastic. Being kicked out of the house before you even graduated high school would be upsetting for anyone, never mind someone who valued family as much as Stanley. And if there was any truth to the idea that he had had something to do with Ford's project breaking it would be worse. Ford might know but the last thing Shermie wanted to do right now was ask him something like that. If he couldn't find him by morning then he'd talk to Ford about it when he dropped Isaac off but he hoped it wouldn't come to that.

He didn't want his little brother to have to spend the night in his car.

It took nearly two hours of driving around before Shermie finally spotted Stan's car parked by the beach. He had never been so relieved to see anything in his life.

He made what could charitably be called the worst parking job of his life before jumping out of the car and racing forward.

There he was, sitting on a swing with his head hunched forward.

Shermie was so relieved he couldn't even move for a second before suddenly springing back into action.

"Stan!" he cried out, running towards his brother.

Stan looked up, blinking confusedly at him. Had he been crying? "Shermie? What are you doing here? "

"I've been looking for you for hours!"

"For me? Why?" Stan asked blankly.

That stopped Shermie up short. How could he even ask that? "Because you're my brother and I heard what happened. Why wouldn't I be here?"

"Ford's not here."

Shermie dropped down on the unoccupied swing. "He's really upset. So is Mom."

"Ma, maybe," Stan conceded. "But I was begging Ford to back me up, to stop Dad from tossing me out and he just closed the curtain and turned his back on me."

Oh, Ford.

"Our parents were having a huge screaming fight when I got there, Stanley. Ford had to take Isaac outside," Shermie said. "Mom was really not happy with what happened. And if she couldn't stop Dad, do you really think it's fair to expect Ford to have been able to?"

Stan sighed heavily and looked down. "It's not like I thought he'd be able to stop it. I just didn't expect him to turn away when I needed him."

"Well, he shouldn't have done that, I agree," Shermie said.

"You do?" Stan asked, surprised.

"Why is it so surprising I'm against my seventeen-year-old brother being thrown out?" Shermie asked the world at large.

"You said they told you what happened," Stan said hesitantly.

"Some of it, yeah, but it doesn't-"

"I didn't mean to break it," Stan interrupted. "It's just…they called him down to the principal's office yesterday. Well, no, they called both of us only to tell us when we got there they only wanted Ford. Mom and Dad were there. I could hear them through the door. He went on about what a genius Ford was and West Coast Tech and Dad even said he was impressed!"

He looked beseechingly at Shermie who nodded. He knew what a big deal that was.

"Then Ma asked about me and the principal said I was lucky if I even graduated. Apparently I'm an idiot, even more when compared to Ford's brilliance."

"Oh, that is absolutely not true," Shermie argued.

Stan laughed harshly. "Sure it is. I wouldn't have even made it this far if I hadn't been able to copy off of Ford since the seventh grade."

"Okay, well, you may have gotten better grades copying off of Ford but that's really no way to learn yourself," Shermie said. "But not listening in class or doing the work doesn't make you stupid."

"Does ruining everything for everyone make me stupid then?"

"Why don't you tell me what happened," Shermie suggested. "You didn't want Ford to move to the other side of the country, right?"

"It's just so far away!" Stan burst out. "We've never been apart before. And maybe that couldn't last forever but…it's the other side of the country! I'd go from seeing him every day to seeing him on Thanksgiving or something. And he didn't even seem to care."

"I'm sure that's not true," Shermie said. "He probably just got caught up in how excited he was about the school and didn't think about what he'd be leaving behind. And for him, leaving everything behind would at least be compensated by his exciting new school. You would just lose him and not get anything from it."

"Yeah, exactly!" Stan exclaimed. "He did say I could come visit him but…it's a really long way away. But I didn't mean to ruin this for him."

"I know you didn't." And Shermie did know. This was Stan. He may not always think his actions through but he would never have hurt Ford on purpose. Never.

"I went back to the gym. I knew it was a bad idea but I just had to. I found his project and I just got so mad that I…" he trailed off, shaking his head. "I didn't touch the project. I didn't try to break it. But I just hit the table it was on and one of the pieces popped off. I tried to put it back! It was still moving and everything when I left. I knew I should have told him but I thought he'd get mad at me for messing with it. I really didn't think anyone would notice. Now the joke's on me. If I had told him then maybe he could have fixed it. Now he doesn't get to go to West Coast Tech and I lost him anyway."

Shermie was at a loss for words. He wanted to tell Stanley that everything was going to be alright, that of course Ford was going to forgive him. From the looks of it, their mother didn't need to and something told him he shouldn't even bother counting on their father. And, logically, it made sense. Ford wasn't going to spend the next fifty years refusing to get over this. But maybe he would. These things happened sometimes, didn't they? And if Ford forgave him in a year it wouldn't help him now.

"It was an accident," he said helplessly.

"That's what I tried to tell him," Stan said. "But he accused me of ruining his chances on purpose. And then Dad threw me out before I could explain and said not to come back until I have millions. So that's what I'm doing now. Sitting here and trying to figure out the best way to do that."

"Stan, I've come to take you home with me."

Stan's mouth dropped open. "W-what? But Dad said-"

"Dad can kick you out of his house if he wants to," Shermie interrupted. "I'm not sure how legally he can do it since you're only seventeen but then I'm not a lawyer. I don't know. He can't kick you out of my house and, frankly, I'd like to see him try."

Stan continued to stare at him for a second before shaking himself. "What, you don't think I can make it on my own? I don't need your pity."

Did Shermie think that Stan could have a good life suddenly abandoned with no notice at seventeen with no real money and no diploma? Probably not. But that had nothing to do with Stan himself and everything to do with the ridiculous situation their father had put him in.

But that wasn't what Stan needed to hear.

"I'm sure you could," Shermie said soothingly. "But think about me."

"You?"

"How am I supposed to keep going to work and living my life knowing that you're out there and not knowing what's going on with you? I'm sure if you're off, um, treasure hunting or whatever you wouldn't have a lot of time to call your big brother. Maybe you wouldn't even have a phone. You know I've become a much bigger worrier since I became a father."

Stan snorted. "That's definitely true."

"Come on, Stan," Shermie pleaded. "I know I can't force you but I've been really worried tonight, even though you were fine over here. Can you just humor me and come home with me?"

"I guess I could stay the night," Stan said reluctantly. "Try and plan out my next moves a little better."

"Or you can stay until you graduate from high school and either go to college or get a job," Shermie countered.

Stan's fingers tightened on the swing rope. "You can't expect me to go back there."

"Why not?" Shermie asked. "You're seventeen, Stanley. You're a senior in high school. You went to school today, didn't you?"

"That was before all this happened!" Stan said, gesturing wildly.

"And not everything's changed," Shermie said. "School hasn't."

"But I ruined Ford's project."

"And I'm pretty sure they won't expel you for that. If they even know and if they can even prove it," Shermie said. "I don't think Ford would report you to the school. This is…enough. It's too much, really, and you don't need more."

"Ford doesn't expect me to ever come back to school," Stan insisted. "Which I'm not, by the way."

"Why not?"

"How am I going to pass anything? I only ever passed because I was copying off of Ford for years! Dad…Dad was right about me."

"He was not," Shermie said sharply. "I mean, I'm not saying it's going to be easy. You'll probably be confused about the material at first and your grades will go down and you might need to ask the teachers for extra help. But I'm going to be here to help you with anything you need and so will Rachel. And she's a nurse so you know she's a smart lady."

"I can't ask you for that," Stan protested.

"You're going to be begging us to stop tutoring you."

"How am I going to walk in there tomorrow and the day after and the day after until I graduate and see Ford in all of my classes?" Stan demanded. "He just stood there and let Dad kick me out! And I took away his stupid school."

"And it will be hard," Shermie admitted. "But it will be hard for him, too. And you won't even have to talk to him. Do you think he's going to go and yell at you in front of everyone at school?"

"No," Stan said. "But I don't want him to ignore me."

"I know, Stan, I know," Shermie said gently, patting him a little awkwardly on the shoulder. "But look at it this way. If you just drive off into the night and only keep in contact with me and Mom – and she is going to want to hear from you – then what chance do you ever have to start talking again? If you never see each other, it would be too easy to just…not talk. And then before you know it it's been a year or two or five and then you'll spend the rest of your life never talking to each other again."

"I don't think we're literally never going to talk to each other again," Stan said skeptically.

"Great! So you're optimistic," Shermie said brightly. "Might as well get all the initial awkwardness out of the way now and make sure that Ford can't just decide you're not a part of his life anymore. Because, like it or not, you're going to be his classmate for the rest of the year."

Stan scowled. "I never agreed to nothing! I don't even talk to anyone besides him! I can't just go to school and not talk to anyone all day. I can't."

If Stan didn't talk to anyone else, chances were that Ford didn't either. He was still so sensitive about that extra finger, and not always without cause.

"What about Carla?" Shermie asked reasonably. "Doesn't she go to your school?"

"Well, yeah," Stan admitted. "But she's got her own friends."

"Try talking to them sometime," Shermie suggested. "I've spent loads of time with Rachel's friends and she's hung out a bunch with mine. I'm not saying you have to follow her around school – you probably shouldn't do that – but it'll give you a starting off point. You just need more practice having friends who aren't your brother."

"I'm not very good at only having my brother as my friend," Stan said glumly.

"Well…just don't accidentally sabotage their science fair projects and you should be good!"

Stan let out a startled laugh. "Shermie, that is not funny."

"Agree to disagree," Shermie said breezily.

Stan looked at him for a moment, his resolve clearly weakening. "Can't I just skip the rest of the week and go back on Monday?"

Shermie shook his head. "I know it might seem like it would be easier but you don't want to get into the habit of hiding from your problems, Stan. And you don't want the school to call Mom and Dad or make people think that something's wrong. And just because Ford's mad at you right now and might be mad for a long time doesn't mean he's going to want to not know what happened to you after you drove off into the night."

"He wouldn't worry," Stan insisted.

"We won't have to find out."

"You really don't mind?" Stan asked, almost too quietly for Shermie to hear.

"No, of course not. You're my brother and I'm not just going to let you live in your car," Shermie said. "I talked to Rachel about it and she informed me we were taking you in even before I could suggest it to her."

"But you two are trying to save money," Stan protested. "That's why you're both working and why Mom looks after Isaac."

"As far as us both working goes, Rachel loves her job and I could suddenly inherit twenty million dollars and she'd still want to keep her job. Plus, it's not like you're going to have a ton of expenses," Shermie said. "I mean, you don't eat that much and, I don't know, maybe clothes eventually or something. It'll be fine. It's not like we'll have to pay more rent or anything. And maybe you could get a job on the weekends or something, I don't know. We'll figure it out."

"Dad was pretty mad, though."

"Good for him," Shermie said, unimpressed. "I'm pretty mad at him myself."

"What if he won't let Mom look after Isaac because you took me in?" Stan asked, worried.

"It's really none of his business where you go after he kicked you out," Shermie said. "I don't think that Mom's going to give in on helping me with Isaac, not after she couldn't stop you from getting kicked out. And even if that does happen, we'll work something out. We could probably get Rachel's sister to look after him or something."

"I could-"

"No."

"You didn't even hear what I was going to say!" Stan protested.

"You can feel free to watch Isaac when you get home from school or on the weekends," Shermie said. "But you're not leaving school to be our babysitter. An education is too important."

Stan rolled his eyes disgustedly. "You sound like Ford."

"I sound like someone who understands the power of knowledge."

"How can you even say crap like 'the power of knowledge' with a straight face?" Stan asked. "You know I'm never going to be a nerd like you two."

"I'm not a nerd," Shermie protested. "I just went to college. And you don't have to be. You don't even have to go to college – though, seriously, consider it – but you're almost done with high school. At least stick that out."

Stan shook his head and stood up. "Boy, you do not believe in doing something for nothing, do you?"

"It's for your own good!" Shermie insisted, standing up as well.

Stan started to walk back to the cars.

Shermie tried and probably failed to hide his relief at Stan agreeing to come with him. He wasn't sure what he was going to do if Stan insisted on trying his boneheaded make it on his own plan. Yes, that was what their father had left him to do but, fortunately, Stan had other family who clearly cared far more about him than their father did.

"Hey, Shermie?" Stan asked quietly once they had reached the cars. He wasn't looking at him.

"Yeah?"

"I just…thanks."