When Ford woke up in the morning, Stan was making breakfast in the kitchen.

For a moment, he just stared at his brother. "Wha…" Finally, words leaked out.

Stan looked up. "Hey, Sixer." He turned back to the stove and flipped another Stancake.

"Wha-what are you doing here?" Ford stammered out. It was too early for him to have been allowed out of the hospital.

"Making breakfast. What's it look like?" Stan threw him an incredulous look.

"But you're supposed to be in the hospital." He hissed, grabbing at his hair.

"I was going to be released later anyway. And hospital security is terrible in the early hours of the morning." Stan shrugged. "Don't worry; I'll let the kids handle the tours and Shack, so technically I'm gonna be resting."

"Why are you cooking breakfast?" Ford gestured, because while he could understand that his brother had escaped from the hospital, it didn't make sense for him to be cooking as soon as he gained his freedom.

"Because people will be hungry and unless your cooking skills have vastly improved since the last time I got a good look at them," Stan sent him a significant look, "it's probably better for everyone that I cook. I know Abuelita sent over supper for the last two nights, but I'd prefer not to rely on her for decent, non-glittery food."

Ford tried to ignore the ways his cheeks began to flush. His skills when it came to cooking, though slightly better than when they were teenagers and he managed to melt through a frying pan, were still not stellar. In that regard, maybe it would be better that Stan cooked.

Still…

"You're supposed to eat healthy food." Ford crossed his arms as he reminded him.

"Well, there currently aren't many things in the fridge that would meet your and the doctor's standards of healthy I think. Stancakes will do until I can send Soos to the store." Stan poured the last of the batter into the pan after slipping the freshly made Stancakes onto a heaping plate next to him.

"But you have to follow the doctor's orders this time, Stanley!" Ford snapped. "It's clear you didn't after you had a stroke, and that probably put you at risk for this! You clearly have no idea how to take care of yourself, so just – " Ford cut himself off as he realized what he had said.

He wasn't supposed to know that Stan had had a stroke. He wasn't supposed to know that his brother had apparently torn himself to pieces over the years they'd been apart, leading his brother to need a hearing aid and dentures. He wasn't supposed to know what was in his brother's medical records.

In his justified anger, he'd revealed that he had looked through them.

Ford braced himself for an angry tirade. Back in the day, he and Stan had rules about looking through each other's stuff. And now he realized that Strange had been right in her anger over him stealing the files. He'd broken the Twin Code.

However, all Stan did was sigh and check on the food. "I knew I should have burned those files the moment you got back."

Ford blinked.

This was… unexpected.

"What?"

"And did you really think I didn't notice you taking my records back there?" Stan rolled his eyes before glancing over. "It's pretty hard to steal from a thief. Gideon only succeeded that one time because that thing was keeping me asleep while he set the charges."

"Uh…" Ford wasn't quite sure what to make of this information. Stan noticing wasn't surprising, but the follow-up information was. He did recall mentions of this Gideon fellow stealing the Shack in his journal, but he had no clue what else Stan meant.

"Not surprised though. Always did feel a need to stick your nose where it doesn't belong when you don't know something." Stan continued as he flipped the Stancakes over.

Well, Ford found he couldn't argue against that. It was how he got into that entire mess with Bill in the first place thirty years ago.

Still…

"Stan," Ford said hesitantly, "we need to talk."

Stan sighed again. "I know." He took the last of the Stancakes off the heat. "Kids!" He bellowed, making Ford jump at the sudden change in volume, "Breakfast."

Within seconds, Ford heard the muffled sounds of Dipper and Mabel running down the stairs. He turned to Stan, because he had thought things were going differently.

"Later." Stan firmly said as he carried the Stancakes over to the already set table.

Ford opened his mouth to protest when Mabel and Dipper burst into the room.

"Grunkle Stan!" The two of them yelled as they raced to embrace their grunkle.

"You're home!" Mabel yelled.

Stan smiled as he hugged them back and ruffled their hair. "Sure am, pumpkin."

"Wait, is it okay that you left already?" Dipper worriedly asked as he drew back.

"If I was still there by the time Doc got in there this morning, I'm pretty sure she'd have been disappointed." Stan said, straightening up. "Now who wants Stancakes?"

As the younger twins cheered, Ford couldn't help but wonder if Stan's timing had just been a delaying tactic. Still, with the two there, Ford couldn't help but agree with him.

They'd talk later.

Stan hated talking about stuff. Their father had always made it clear that real men did not talk about things. However, it was a lack of communication that had always caused problems between them. How many times had he seen Dipper and Mabel work out their issues through talking and felt a slight sting of jealousy?

That did not mean he didn't want to delay it for as long as possible.

Old habits die hard.

And all it really made him do was wish that he had broken into Dr. Strange's office during those first couple days and burned the darned files. He had really debated it; after all, it wouldn't do for his brother to see how much of a screw-up he was. Plus, erasing his medical history would open up a few other… avenues for him to pursue once the summer was over.

Upon thinking this, Stan realized that Strange really had a point about renewing his prescription.

Still, Stan managed to hold off on talking to Ford until the Shack had opened, guaranteeing that the kids along with Wendy and Soos would not be bothering them. Though he would have preferred to have the talk in a more private place, the kids had insisted on him resting in his armchair so he had the TV available to him and could easily be assisted if he needed something.

Stan was flipping through channels when Ford walked into the room.

The elder of the two frowned at the television. "Stanley." Ford chided as Stan finally settled on some boxing re-runs. "We need to – "

"With this on, it'll be harder for the kids to hear what we're talking about." Stan pointed out, putting the remote on the skull next to him.

"Ah." Ford blinked in realization. "Yes, that is a good idea."

"You admitted that I had a good idea." Stan sarcastically said. "Really wish I'd recorded that."

Ford pursed his lips at that, and Stan took a tiny bit of pleasure at aggravating his brother. He knew he was being difficult, but if it put things off just a bit longer…

Stan watched as his brother drew in a huge breath and slowly let it out. "So," Ford finally said when he calmed down, "I'll admit that I read through your medical records."

"I think we already established that." Stan drawled, sitting back in his chair. Noting the way that Ford was fidgeting with his smallest fingers, a habit from when they were younger, he couldn't help but roll his eyes. "If you've got questions, just spit them out, Poindexter."

"Well," Ford hesitated, "you've had a stroke before."

"Yeah, it really sucked. I take it that's not what's bothering you the most." Stan studied his brother, knowing he'd hit the nail on the head. Ford's normal attitude of firing a million questions per minute was surprisingly absent. Stan sighed. "How far back did you even get?"

Ford couldn't look him in the eye. "I noticed a prescription I didn't recognize, and though the pill has changed over the years, it seemed to originate in a prison psychology report."

"Ah…" Stan rubbed at his head, knowing exactly what he was talking about. "Did you read it?"

"No." Ford said and Stan was the one blinking at him now. "Your doctor showed up right then," he explained.

Stan chuckled. "She always has had great timing."

"So what…" Ford stood there awkwardly, unable to finish his question, but Stan got the gist of it.

"Actually, sit down, Ford, you look awkward like that." Stan removed the remote from on top of the skull and patted it. Having to look up at his brother was giving him a crick in the neck and he had a feeling that Ford was going to want to sit down through the rest of this conversation.

"Right." Ford perched himself on the skull with a look of distaste. Clearly, he was still not happy how Stan had converted some of his science stuff.

"Okay. So before anything else, you should know that anything you read in my file is just stuff that I actually got caught with. As in, one way or another I got dragged to hospital."

"There's more?!" Ford looked aghast.

"Well, yeah. I wasn't going to pay some quack for every little thing. It's just sometimes I wouldn't be given much of a choice." Stan shrugged. "Anyway, so onto the prison report, I got caught doing something and they set the shrinks on me. They gave me treatment which I really don't want to get into, but when I left they started me on meds. I've been on and off of similar stuff ever since."

Ford was just staring at him. Stan knew he had gone through that a bit quickly but he really didn't want to get into all that much. He really preferred to not think about that time of his life. Especially since that was the first time he'd been caught doing… that by authorities. It wasn't the first time he'd attempted it, but at least the people who'd caught him doing it wouldn't send him to the loony bin like the shrink did.

As Stan watched Ford's face turned thoughtful. He was clearly filing the new information away into his nerd system.

"Why didn't you mention it to me?" Ford asked.

Stan startled a bit, not expecting the question. "Uh, what do you mean?"

"Well, I asked the children about any medications you were taking, and they clearly were aware of you taking them. However, you made no signs of mentioning it to me." Ford's brow was furrowed as he collected his thoughts.

"Oh." Stan really didn't want to explain why he hadn't, so he went with the simplified version. "The kids noticed me taking them, and it's quite common nowadays anyway. I didn't see the point in bothering you though."

"What?" Ford asked. "Why would knowing about this be bothering me?"

"Uh, it's not your problem." Stan thought it was kind of obvious.

"How can it not be? You're my brother!" Ford gave him an indignant look.

Stan threw him the most skeptical look in his arsenal. After all, even Ford should have enough self-awareness to know that he certainly hadn't acted like it. Heck, their conversation when he got back was enough evidence for that.

Ford winced in response. "All right, maybe that wasn't the best way to put it." He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"Really?" Stan rolled his eyes. "In any case, since I'm leaving at the end of summer, it's not like it would be your problem for long anyway."

"What? You're leaving at the end of summer?" Ford asked.

Stan stared at him. "You're the one who asked me to leave, Ford."

"No, I didn't."

"You told me I could stay until the end of summer to take care of the kids. That implies that I'm supposed to leave then." Stan pointed out.

"Ah – but – I – " Ford spluttered. "That's not what I meant!"

"Then what did you mean?" He crossed his arms.

"I just – " Ford groaned, running his hand down his face. "I was angry then."

"And you're not now?"

"No. But you don't know the circumstances I was in!" Ford protested.

"Then tell me." Stan said, stopping Ford in his tracks. "For once, actually explain what's going on with you. You wanted to talk, so talk. I've done my bit." Admittedly, Stan hadn't done that very well, giving only the most basic and vaguest of information, but he'd still done it.

Ford hesitated, and Stan couldn't blame him. After all, if anything, Ford was even worse about talking about things than he was. But then, he actually relented.

Stan knew he still wasn't being told everything, but finding out that he had interrupted his brother in the middle of some sort of Planet Wars-esque final battle helped understand his ire when he had brought him back. He wondered who he'd been fighting, because Ford was extremely cagey about it.

After that, they were both talked out for a while and by silent mutual agreement, they decided to just watch TV. Mabel was thrilled when she found them at lunch time. Her piercing shriek jolted both of them out of their relaxed state though.

It was a start, Stan would admit. It wasn't much of one, but it was a start.

If this heart attack helped repair his relationship with his brother even a little bit though, it was totally worth it.

It was still worth it when Dr. Strange dropped by later to give him a scolding, but that was a different story.

AN: So that's it for Heart Beats. FYI, Planet Wars was what I called this universe's version of Star Wars since all evidence of this place seems to have similar sounding but different franchise names. Then of course back in Stanuary, I decided that Star Wars is multi-universal and they'd have that in this universe. But I don't feel like changing it while posting it here so there you go.

I thought about splitting this apart, but eventually decided to go for it all in one shot. The Stans have talked a bit though not everything's fixed. Weirdmaggedon would probably still happen (right about the time Stan would be off his 2 week bedrest if I'm calculating right). And who knows how things would turn out even if they have start communicating.

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it.