Stan wasn't entirely certain what he'd expected when he'd asked if Richie was okay, but what he hadn't expected was for the door to swing open and to get the strangest fucking question he'd heard in a long while.
Still he paused to consider it for a moment before he lifted his shoulders. "I think it probably depends more on where you live. In Florida? I'd give you pretty good odds, in California? Not so great." He doubted very much that Richie had been in there thinking about sewer alligators though, and the look he gave Richie said as much.
"I'd say non-existent here too." He added for good measure.
Stan crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the door frame just a little bit while he took in the sight of Richie. "Do you want to talk about it?" He asked then, because he could entertain random thoughts of alligators for a bit, but there was more to it than that and maybe he wasn't exactly an expert on dealing with trauma in healthy or even non-lethal ways but he could be an ear if he needed it, or a shoulder for him to lean on. At least he'd done the worst thing he possibly could already, so that just meant he had a whole host of other options available to him now.