Chapter Text
It all started nine days after his seventeenth birthday. Stan was sitting on the floor of his bedroom with a slice of leftover birthday cake on his lap, red velvet with cream cheese frosting. He picked at the cake with absolutely no gusto, but his mom wanted them to eat all the leftovers up before they went bad. One of the reasons for his lacking appetite was that his parents were fighting with each other downstairs. Yes, he was wearing noise cancelling headphones at the moment and the door was shut, but that didn’t mean he was oblivious to their fight. It probably was about Randy’s drinking problem again.
Sighing, he put the plate with the cake onto his bedtable and slumped facedown onto his bed. His parents had done their best to get along with each other, probably for the sake of their children. Sharon was really trying to save what was left of their dysfunctional marriage, but they couldn’t really say that about Randy. Stan needed to admit that his dad had gotten better in the past years, but he was by far not worthy of the Father of the Year – award. Though Randy may be a lot of things- childish, immature, petty, embarrassing, addicted to alcohol- he still loved his family and was trying his best to be a good father to him and Shelly. His marriage with his wife, on the other hand…
Stan turned so that he was lying on his back. He so didn’t want to think about that right now. He needed peace of mind. Slowly, he sat up in his bed and stretched his arms. A shower sounded like a good idea. Whenever he was under the shower, he could relax, wash off the stress of the day. Showering had always helped him feel like himself again, even during his depressive episodes. So he got up, put down his headphones, and left his room. He tried his best to block out the voices of his parents in the living room downstairs while he headed to the bathroom of the first floor. Hey, at least, they weren’t yelling at each other. His old therapist always told him to try see the bright side of things.
After he had locked the bathroom door behind him, he turned to the mirror over the sink and looked at himself. The same cerulean eyes, the same jet-black hair, the same bags under his eyes. Stan turned away from his reflection and started to strip down to nothing. Then, he stepped into the shower and turned on the showerhead. The lukewarm water ran down his body in streams and relieved all the tension from his neck, his muscles, his soul. He sighed happily. No matter how god-awful his day had been, the ten to fifteen minutes under the shower always made up for it. Whenever his schedule allowed it, he took hourlong baths. His wrinkly skin afterwards didn’t disturb him in the slightest.
After he had washed the lemony shampoo out of his hair, he left the shower cabin and started to rub his body dry with his favorite towel. Just when he bent down to rub his feet, he saw it. His two toes next to his biggest toe were fused together on both his feet. That was definitely new. Stan sank to the floor, eyes widened in shock. He looked down again to examine his feet. Curling and moving his toes didn’t feel that much different from before, but he was still freaked out about this. Stan ran his fingers through his wet hair. Maybe, he was just overreacting. Maybe, he was fretting over nothing. His hands were jittery with nerves when he grabbed his phone from the rim of the sink, slumped down on the floor again, leaned against the wall, and started googling symptoms like madly.
Turned out that asking the internet about his toes was a mistake. All the articles he had read so far were saying that webbed toes were in fact nothing to worry about as they were no health risk. The thing was that people were normally born with that condition; the toes didn’t just fuse seventeen years post birth. Stan quickly closed the tabs in his browser. Enough. He was not going to get worked up over that. If the internet said his toes posed no risk to his health, he was going to believe it. With everything he had, he silenced the voice that told him how alarming this was.
Nope.
He had other things to worry about - such as his Central European history essay that was due the next day. Stan sighed heavily while he wrapped his towel around his lower torso. Whether Kyle was still up? He really hoped his best friend was, he would probably be able to help him out since he had absolutely no clue what he was supposed to write about a bunch of white colonizers. When he was in his room again, Stan typed and sent a new text to his best friend.
Stan: heyyy kyle :D who’s my super best friend in the world :DD
Kyle: You want something from me, don’t you? Spit it out already
Stan needed to grin. His best friend just knew him too well.
•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••
He ended up pulling an all-nighter because of his writing block. After Kyle had chided him because of his bad time management and his procrastination, he had finally made it his mission to help Stan finish that paper over the phone. It was half past five in the morning when Stan had finally managed to throw together a half-decent essay. Maybe, he could convince Wendy or Tolkien to proofread it before he needed to hand it in. Kyle had long fallen asleep; he could hear the snores on loudspeaker. Stan smiled fondly at his display. No matter how much they got on each other’s nerves once in a while, they were always there for each other. The redhead sighed happily in his sleep and Stan’s heart was making weird somersaults. He couldn’t help but notice how cute Kyle looked while he was asleep. Okay, full stop. He was already in a happy relationship with Wendy, thoughts like those were wildly inappropriate. He loved Wendy, he definitely wasn’t swooning over his best bro.
Trying to get some sleep now was pointless so Stan ended his call with Kyle to let the other rest, closed his notebook, left his room and went down the stairs. Much to his surprise, his mother was already up. She was sitting on the barstool at the kitchen isle and staring at the newspaper with her reading glasses on her nose. Stan went over to the fridge and she looked up. The smile she offered him was kind.
“Good morning, Stanley.”
“Morning, mom.” He grabbed the milk and an apple and closed the fridge again. “Slept well?”
Sharon nodded while she took a sip of her coffee mug. “Yes, thanks. Why are you up already, sweetie?”
“I woke up early”, he lied. He didn’t want his mom to worry unnecessarily. His mom was already worrying way too much about him as it is.
The truth was that he hadn’t just procrastinated his homework. He just hadn’t found it in him to pick up the pen and start writing. He hadn’t found it in him to do anything the week he turned seventeen. All week long, that dark cloud had been hanging over his head and followed him wherever he went. He had felt the same when he had turned ten and his parents had split up temporarily. Both times, he had turned to alcohol to alleviate that feeling of emptiness. He still had his stash of liquors hidden in the back of his closet.
His mother scrutinized his face as if she tried to find the truth in his eyes. Then, she just nodded. “Don’t forget to take your pills today, okay?”
“I won’t.” He already knew that he wouldn’t take them. He hated the antidepressants his last therapist had prescribed. They weren’t helping at all, they just gave him headaches and made him moody.
After Stan had kissed her goodbye, he left the house and headed to his pickup truck. The car had been a gift to him on his sixteenth birthday. He had been among the first ones in his friend group that had obtained their driver’s license because his parents were tired of driving him and his sister to school and back to the farm every day. Actually, he and his sister were supposed to share the vintage Land Rover their parents had gotten them. But Shelly went to an out of state college a couple of years ago, so Stan got the car all to himself now.
At the time he got out of his car at South Park High’s parking lot, it was already half past seven. From where he was, he could see the goth kids next to the dumpsters that smoked weed. He shortly waved at them when Pete nodded at him and turned on his heel to go find his own friends. From afar, he saw Kenny who was leaning against the railing on top of the stairs to the main entry. A blonde, probably Bebe or Annie, was about to give him a hickey. Stan smirked at the scene and shook his head. Kenny McCormick would for sure bone anything with a pulse that crossed his way. Which was no surprise at all, especially because he had the looks and the personality to wrap everyone around his pinky finger in no time. That boy was almost seventeen years old and already had a triple digit body count. Stan had no idea whether to be impressed or worried. Probably the former.
As soon as Kenny saw the black-haired boy approach them, he excused himself from the blonde (Bebe, as it turned out). His wide toothy grin was almost infectious.
“Stan the Man has finally graced us with his presence!” He slid down the railing in a dangerously fast way and landed in front of his friend to give him a bro hug. “How is it going, bud?”
“Everything’s going great, dude.” Stan needed to grin. Kenny just knew how to cheer up people. “Have you seen Kyle around, by chance?”
Kenny shook his head. “Not yet. Oh, look, Butters is coming. Yo, Butters, over here!”
Butters was among the people that had just gotten off the bus. The light blonde’s baby blue eyes lit up when he saw Kenny wave at him enthusiastically.
“Heya, fellas”, he greeted the duo even though Stan got the feeling he only had eyes for Kenny. He couldn’t help but feel sorry for the shorter blonde, though. Kenny was a player that couldn’t be tamed while Butters was the type of person that longed for a committed relationship. As much as Stan loved Kenny, he was one hundred percent sure he would break poor Butters’ heart if they ever started something with each other.
Butters’ cheeks reddened when Kenny gave him the same hug as Stan. “Hi, Buttercup”, he purred flirtatiously. “I missed you.”
Stan facepalmed. It was no good idea to lead the meek blonde on, he deserved better. Just when he was about to call out his friend, someone punched him in the shoulder from behind. He turned his head and came face to face with a certain ginger-haired boy, his emerald eyes were narrowed at…him?
“Ky, there you are. I already wondered where you were.”
“Oh, shut the fuck up, Stanley. Don’t pretend you aren’t in deep shit for not letting me sleep last night.”
Kenny, the salacious bastard, cocked his right eyebrow suggestively. “Excuse me, what was that? Did the two of you finally dance the devil’s tango?”
Kyle’s face quickly turned the same red shade as his hair. “Of course, we did not! Jesus fucking Christ, Kenny. Get your head out of the gutter, you creep. You should definitely stop sleeping around so much, your horniness is affecting your braincells.”
“Hey, leave my sex life out of this! My lifestyle keeps me fit and healthy; you could take a leaf out of my book.”
The Jewish boy wrinkled his nose in disgust. “I would rather not. My love life is already fulfilled enough, thank you very much.”
Unconvinced, Kenny cocked his other eyebrow. “Which love life exactly?”
“I’m going to kill you, Kenneth. Don’t stick your nose into my affairs”, Kyle just said tightly instead of answering the blonde’s question.
Kenny shook his head, amused with Kyle’s reaction. He linked arms with Butters next to him. “You’re such a buzzkill, Kylie. Let’s go, Leo. At least, you understand my delightful sense of humor.”
“I sure do, Ken”, answered Butters, almost awestruck. They went inside, leaving Stan and Kyle behind.
Kyle cocked his head to the side when he looked after the two blondes. “Kenny will never notice that Butters is hopelessly in love with him, right?”
“That’s what I was thinking too!”, Stan laughed. “And I always thought that Kenny was smart.”
At that moment, the schoolbell rang and the two boys exchanged surprised glances. Time had passed by way too quickly for their taste. Before they were headed to their respective classes, Kyle asked: “You wanna hang out with me at my place after school? Just the two of us and the Switch.”
A warm feeling was spreading in Stan’s stomach. He smiled. “Dude, that would be awesome.”
•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••
The schoolday was as monotonous and boring as ever, but the prospect of chilling with Kyle after school was motivation enough for Stan to power through the day. When his football training was over, he was about to head to his car, but someone else was already waiting for him in front of the boys’ locker room: Wendy Testaburger.
Shit.
He had totally forgotten about her. Awesome, he was being the worldbest boyfriend now. Wendy was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. Her waist length black hair was tied to a ponytail, she wore a chic trenchcoat over her purple turtleneck dress. When she spotted him at the doorway, she came rushing over to him and kissed him shortly on the cheek.
“You didn’t call me back.”
Stan rubbed his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry about that.”
Wendy didn’t look mad about that, though. There was nothing but worry in her pretty hazel eyes. “Is everything okay, Stan?”
No, nothing was okay. He kept telling himself that the issue with his toes was nothing to worry about and that he shouldn’t make a mountain out of a molehill. But something told him that this was just the beginning, the quiet before the storm. Instead of saying that, Stan forced a smile.
“I’m fine, Wends. Everything is fine.”
His girlfriend just sighed resignedly. “Okay. I will just believe you. But please know that you can tell me everything. I want to be there for you no matter what.”
“I know. You’re the best girlfriend I could ever wish for.”
She pulled him in a tight hug. “Never ignore my calls ever again, Stan”, she said pleadingly after they had pulled away from each other. “You had me worried.”
He watched her how she turned around and walked to the exit. Wendy was so good to him, even when he was a depressed mess. He had no idea how he deserved her. Or whether he deserved to be with her at all.
•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••
Kyle had already made them popcorn and other snacks when Stan entered the Casa di Broflovski. The buttery scent made Stan’s stomach rumble loudly.
The redhead laughed. “Someone’s hungry.”
Stan blamed his athlete metabolism for his appetite. He put off his jacket and followed Kyle into the kitchen to help him carry the bowls of popcorn, Pretzel bites, celery sticks and potato chips into the living room. Since Gerald had to work, Sheila went shopping with her girlfriends, and Ike had karate, the boys had the entire house to themselves. On their way, they went past the aquarium the Broflovskis had gotten a couple of months ago. One of the three goldfish was staring up to the two boys with its big eyes before it flicked its tail and went hiding behind a small rock on the bottom.
Stan put down the bowls and went back to the aquarium to greet the goldfish. Kyle laughed. “I told mom and dad that we should get a proper pet, but Ike insisted that we got those useless fish. He tried teaching them some tricks, but fish are stupid as hell. And don’t get me started on keeping that aquarium clean. What a waste of money.”
“Pets are never a waste of money”, Stan corrected him while he knocked against the glass softly to get the fish's attention. He had always been the animal lover and activist among them four. Cartman once called him a tree hugger because of his fondness for animals of all kinds. Except for polar bears. Those creatures always gave him the heebie-jeebies.
Kyle rolled his eyes. “Yeah, if you say so. Turn the Switch on, I need to pee.”
When Kyle had left the room, Stan turned back to the aquarium again. Goldfish number two was still staring at him while the others were toying around in the background. He wondered what the fish was thinking of him. All of a sudden, something overcame him. Before he knew it, Stan had reached into the water, grabbed the goldfish, and stuffed it into his mouth. He only registered what he had done when he had chewed and swallowed the fish.
What the actual fuck.
He just ate a living raw goldfish. And he … didn’t hate it?
Stan suddenly felt sick to the stomach and needed to hold on to the cabinet behind him. He was a vegetarian, for god’s sake! What sick psycho ate living fish voluntarily and even liked it? What the hell had gotten into him?
“Stan? You okay, dude? You look like shit.” Meanwhile, Kyle had returned from the bathroom. He gave his best friend a worried look. “What happened? Why is your right arm so wet? What-”
In the next moment, Stan stormed past him and to the toilet where he puked his guts out. Kyle’s eyes had widened in shock, but he quickly rushed to his friend to pat his back and offer him silent comfort. When Stan was done throwing up, Kyle handed him a paper towel so that he could clean his mouth.
“Are you okay now?”, he asked him, full of worry.
“I think so. Thanks.”
They were both sitting on the floor next to the toilet. Kyle got up and left the bathroom. Soon after, he returned with a glass of icecold water. “Here, drink. You need electrolytes now, dude.”
Stan gratefully accepted the glass and drank greedily.
“Do you want to talk about it?”, Kyle asked tentatively.
Definitely not.
“Maybe, I’ve got food poisoning from the caf”, Stan tried to talk himself out of it.
“No way, man”, Kyle answered immediately. “We all ate the same stuff and I still feel good. Besides, lunch was hours ago.” He took Stan’s hands into his own to squeeze them softly. “You know you can talk to me, right? I mean, we are Stan and Kyle, our broship conquers all.”
Stan looked into Kyle’s warm eyes that urged him to confide in him. But somehow, the words refused to come out of his mouth. Instead, he let go of Kyle’s hands, albeit reluctantly. Kyle’s face fell, and seeing Kyle like that broke his heart. But still...
“I- I need to go.” Stan jumped to his feet and rushed out of the bathroom.
"Stan, wait!", his best friend called after him, but he kept running. The way Kyle looked after him would haunt him in his sleep.