Ford breaks down on the third day of amnesia Stan and goes to his room, crying and hugging him. Telling him over and over again that he's sorry, begging Stan to forgive him, and to please, please, 'please' come back. Stan's just confused because he doesn't understand why Ford is acting like this, but is trying to comfort him anyway.
Oops, this turned into a little drabble. I’m not sure if it’s exactly what you were going for, but hopefully you still find it enjoyable.
’Unkept, shaggy grey hair, large nose, a sharp jawline, five-a-clock shadow, brown eyes…’ Stan listed, half-heartedly observing the features of the stranger staring back at him from the window’s reflection.
This was him. His face. It blinked when he blinked. It moved when he moved. He knew this was… his own face.
But he didn’t feel like it really belonged to him. It belonged to that… what was it, ‘Stanley’, right? Yeah. That ‘Stanley guy’ who the others kept going on about. The man who would sometimes spark up within him like a wildfire and take charge of his words and actions, who would make his heart ache whenever he saw the looks of concerned distress etched into the faces of those around him. The man who had names and memories attached to all these people and places, who would wake him in the middle of the night with dreams that may or may not have been recollections, and who would leave him with odd feelings of wistful longing that he couldn’t find the root of whenever he picked up or passed by certain objects. The man who would often just…fade away into the blank white space that made up most of his mind, leaving him empty, distant, and untroubled.
He wasn’t sure if he liked this ‘Stanley’, he seemed more trouble than he was worth.