Chapter Text
In hindsight, Stan really should have known this was coming. Their father was stupid and was bound to die this way. Their main qualm was that it happened so soon. You would think that a father would love their kid enough to not be so stupid as to die so young, at least for the kids sake, but no.
Because on a random autumn day during freshman year Stan’s father decided to get high and go swimming. Nobody knows exactly what happened, all they know is that Randy Marsh is dead.
Not the ocean, not even from being trapped. He was just such an idiot that he decided that “Yeah, I’m just gonna die today.”
The death had ripped their family half apart. Sheley was never home, always hanging out with friends or walking around town, and their mom was practically a husk of her old self. At least they had their old house back, but it wasn’t the same.
For two months their father had been dead, for two months they has barely spoken to their family, and for two months they had fought the urge to go back to some of their fathers old ‘Coping Mechanisms’.
That was at least, until the party. Clyde had thrown a party at his house like he always did. Stan didn’t really care for partying, but they did like how it drowned out all their self hatred so that was a bonus.
Nobody around them was talking to them, Kyle was watching out for them but he got distracted by Eric starting drinking bets on the other side of the party.
They didn’t exactly blame Kyle for it, Kyle had been insistent on constantly having an eye on Eric for years now, but it still stung.
They told themself that they wouldn’t start drinking like the other kids. It was immature and they wouldn’t be able to stop if they started.
Well, they were trying not to drink, but then a few too many people gave them that look. You know the one, the look people give you when they have pity for you but don’t have the courage or mental stability to help you so they just give you a guilty look instead.
A note for the viewers at home, looking at people like that only makes them feel more alienated and separated from people. If you really want to be comforting but don’t know how to be, just treat them like normal unless they ask for sympathy.
Fourth-wall break aside, it didn’t take much social exhaustion for them to decide that maybe one shot wouldn’t hurt
They’d like to say that it was really just one shot, but that never ends up being the case.
They didn’t realize exactly when they got drunk enough to just leave the party all together in favor of standing at the old bridge on the highway.
They distantly wonder if this is any similar to how Heidi felt back in fourth grade when she quit twitter
They slowly leaned against it, feeling their stomach swoop as they looked to the river so far down below.
They stayed like that for a while, vision blurred and throat burning. They considered what it would feel like, to hit the water and finally be done. They wondered if it would be any similar to how their father felt, if it would be worth it to feel close to their father one last time.
“Whatcha doin’ there friend?” A friendly voice asked softly behind them.
If they were starting to hallucinate then they drank a lot more than they thought they did, “Having some less than welcome intrusive thoughts about death, how about you?” They said casually to the maybe hallucination behind them.
They heard a small laugh, “And why might that be?”
They smirked, “Oh it’s nothin much really, usually I’m better at controlling my thoughts but I had a couple drinks too many and a lot more than average on my mind for a fifteen year old.” They said, slowly sinking to the ground.
The hallucination came up to them, tilting their chin up with a finger, “Oh my Stanley, whatever happened to you?” The voice sounded sad.
Stan took a second to really look at the man, eyes focusing to see none other than-
“Gary?”
He smiled, “Thats me! I’m surprised you still remember me after six years apart!”
Stan sighed and put their head in their hands, “Oh so I’m hallucinating bad then huh? God I need to make Kyle promise to wack me over the head with a frying pan if I every even consider drinking again. Actually maybe Kenny would be a better choice? Or Eric, he’s morally ambiguous enough to be willing to hit me over the head with a frying pan while also caring about me enough to actually stop me from drinking.”
Gary’s expression got sad, “Oh Stan you aren’t hallucinating me, gosh we sure do need to get you away from that alcohol then, I had no idea you even drank!”
“Yeah probably, and to be clear I don’t. This is a one time consiquence of other peoples stupidity.” They knew they were lying to him, but why did it even matter? Stan rolled their head back against the rough concrete, coolness spreading throughout their scalp.
Gary crouched down to them, warm fingers brushing their hair back and resting at the point between Stan’s throat and shoulder, slightly pushing beneath his thin t-shirt, “I’m gonna be taking you home friend.” He said, kindness sparkling in his eyes.
Stan looked at Gary with a cautious look, “Nah i’m good I don’t really feel like it and plus if my mom saw me like this it’d kill her so I might just, sleep on the road or something? I don’t know anymore.” Stan’s fingers scraped uncomfortably against the concrete when they attempted to adjust themselves.
Gary pulled them into a hug, warmth spreading throughout Stan’s body and overwhelming them with the smell of sandalwood and lavender. Gary propped up both of Stan’s legs so Stan was practically straddling him when he stood up, “That’s ok, I intended on taking you back to my place instead anyway.” He patted Stan’s back as he started walking away from the bridge. They had the distant idea to protest this action, but didn’t feel like going through the effort to do anything else.
Stan blinked in and out of consciousness as they walked to Gary’s house, Gary could hear them occasionally snore when they went to sleep and felt them each time they jolted awake again.
It had been five years since he had last spoken to Stan. He long since forgave him, knowing that he was only nine and didn’t really know what he was talking about when he had insulted his religion. He had always admired him, wanting to be friends again badly, but he never approached simply because he never found the right time to.
When he had decided to take a walk that night despite the cold temperature, he had certainly not expected to see this. He suspected the whole situation was an effect of Stan’s father dying, but despite the fact that he had heard of the whole situation he didn’t think it would push Stan this far.
He approached his house, knocking on the door to be met with the face of Amanda.
“Hi Gary how- Woah who is that?” Her lively smile dropped into curiosity, pointing at Stan who was draped over his shoulder.
“Ah uh- you remember my friend Stan right? From fourth grade? Well he wasn’t doing so hot so i’m letting him rest here.” Gary smiled awkwardly, Amanda looked skeptical but let him in anyway.
Entering the living room he saw his family playing monopoly on the coffee table, they all opened their mouths to say ‘hi’ but before they could he shushed them quietly, gesturing to Stan.
His father looked at Stan curiously and whispered, “Is that your old friend Stan? What’s wrong with him?”
Gary shifted Stan in his arms slightly, “He’s been going through a lot of tough stuff at home, he got really drunk and somehow ended up at the bridge. He’s lucky that I showed up, he looked like he was about to fall off! I’m just letting him crash tonight since he can barely form a coherent sentence.” He brought up one hand to gently brush Stan’s hair out of his eyes.
His mother smiled at them both, proud that she had raised such a caring son, “Well that’s nice. Tell me in the morning if he has a hangover, I used to make hangover cures for my friends that drank all the time in high school.” She said warmly.
Gary smiled back, “Thanks mama! I’ll make sure to ask if he does! I’ll see you guys!” He waved bye to his family as they all whispered their goodbyes and continued their board game.
He gently set Stan down on his bed, deciding it would be more hospitable to let him sleep on a bed than on the floor.
Sitting down on his desk chair, he smiled at the sight of Stan in his room. Despite the tense nature of their last meeting, Stan has always been a friend he missed, it was nice finally seeming him again.
He curled up in his chair and and drifted off.