[For a guy who couldn't be fucked to bring any of his own stuff, but tenderly scooped up a toddler and ran with her, Stanley appears, at least outwardly, completely unaffected by witnessing this moment of vulnerability from Stephanie. Instead, he cants his head to the side slightly, pops another bit of licorice into his mouth, and considers her for a long moment.]

Yeah, you would. I don't think you will. Not over nothing. And that's kinda all I ever do, so I guess we'll be fine. But if you needed to, you would. Right?

[It's in that same eerily casual tone that he usually uses, even when discussing violent and horrible things. Some sort of emotional wall, slapped up every time things seem like they might become dicey. An analytical approach, sharp and aware in ways that he generally isn't, as a rule. Problem solving mode. Remove yourself from the situation, examine, and move forward, whatever that takes. Almost like a separate facet of his personality, something most likely developed as a defense mechanism.

Peace pushes her car up his arm, making the fine blond hairs there stand on end, but provoking no reaction more than a curious glance and an absent head pat from him. He's still focused on Stephanie.]

But I don't believe in vampires, or werewolves, or aliens, or any of this shit, anyway. Shows what I know.