Universal Inconstants

Chapter 12

Meanwhile, a certain curly, red haired boy sat worriedly in the hospital beside Stan's bed as he waited for his super best friend to awake. It'd been almost three hours since the other had fallen asleep, afraid but in good hands, and Kyle couldn't help but be impatient. He stared down at Stan's sleeping face silently. 

Five minutes passed. 

Ten. 

Twenty. He kept staring.

Until finally the unconscious boy stirred, and Stan's eyes slowly and heavily opened. 

Kyle instantly sat up in his chair, gaze fixed on Stan as he took in his surroundings. He moved his head to the side and made eye contact with the taller boy as he realized where he was. 

"K-Kyle, why am I in the hospital? What happened?"

Kyle blinked at him. "You don't remember? You had a stroke, Stan," he said bluntly. "You could have died."

Stan's eyes widened as he struggled to remember. "I-I did?"

"Yeah dude, at Stark's Pond. We were talking about the crab people, remember?"

"... no," Stan responded upsetly, looking away from Kyle.

Kyle reached and settled a hand on Stan's shoulder reassuringly. "It's okay Stan. Maybe it's best that you don't remember. It was terrifying," he admitted quietly.

Stan looked back at the other, tears pricking his eyes. "I-I'm sorry Kyle," he whispered, "I'm sorry."

Kyle's expression was compassionate as he spoke. "Stan... It's okay. I promise you it's okay. It's not your fault," he said, moving his hand to rest on the other's.

Stan seemed slightly comforted by the gesture, but very quickly his face contorted in terror. "K-Kyle, I... I can't move my arm. Kyle it won't move, I-" Tears poured down his face as he was brought into an embrace by the other, terrified sobs pouring out of him. 

Kyle rubbed his back as he cried, comforting him as he let all the built up emotions pour out. 

A few minutes after Stan had calmed, Kyle let the boy go gently and sat back down, keeping his hand on top of the other's. He picked up Stan's hand and massaged it lightly.

"Do you feel this?" He asked.

Stan shook his head. "N-no... not really," he responded, voice cracking. Kyle continued to hold Stan's hand in one of his own, reaching the other up to rub his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him.

"It'll be okay, Stan. They said this is normal. They said it will most likely wear off. Just breathe, okay? Just keep breathing," he said with a gentle smile.

Stan just looked at him and nodded, still panic stricken but trying to calm himself. After a few moments, he asked, "Kyle... did they say what caused it?"

Kyle nodded solemnly. "They said it was most likely caused by your drinking."

"... oh." Stan sniffled and wiped some of the tears off his face with his left arm, the one that worked. He stared at the ceiling as he pondered on and on about his problem. He thought about everything that had caused it in the first place, the variety of events that spiraled him further and further toward this point. 

It was a long process.

But it still ended up with him in here in the first place.

His parents were the first major contributing factor. In 4th grade they'd split up, and Randy moved out of the house. His outlook on life from that point on delved into oblivion. Even after his parents got back together, and even after him and Wendy overcame their differences and came together again... after he'd thought he'd gotten over the problem, it just got worse.