Satellite (Staig - Craig x Stan)

16

WARNING: BLOOD LOSS, EMOTIONAL/PHYSICAL DISTRESS

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Stan sighed as he stepped through the front door of his home, watching with sadness as Craig drove away. Hopefully by this time next year, there will be no more painful goodbyes.

They just need to be patient.

Stan shut the door and was immediately bombarded with chaos. He could hear his mom cursing out his dad in the other room again and he was, once again, off of his goddamn rocker.

It didn't take long for his dad to come around the corner, staring Stan down with anger.

"Where the fuck were you?" Randy growled. Stan rolled his eyes.

"I went to a gig. I told you about this. Or were you too drunk to remember?" Stan spoke in a flat tone, making his way towards the staircase. Randy growled, grabbing Stan by the wrist and throwing him to the ground. The action had shocked Stan enough into a state of paralysis. His dad has never done something like that.

How many drinks did he have?

"Randy, I swear to God if you touch Stan like that again-"

"Yeah yeah, you'll leave me. Never heard that one before!" He yelled back at her. She was standing in the living room behind his irate father, ready to jump in if Stan needed it. Randy turned back towards Stan with disgust.

"Lemme guess...you were with him again, weren't you?" Randy laughed meniacally, tipping his head back as he took a sizable swig of his whiskey. Stan didn't give his dad the satisfaction of arguing back. He just sat there with a cold stone glare as his dad continued ranting.

"Hah...I can't believe it. Of all the kids here in this butt-fuck town...it had to be Craig." Randy shook his head stumbling towards Stan. "I never wanted you...my only boy...to be an omega. You were supposed to be an alpha, or beta at best! But an omega?!"

That stung...it stung a lot. As much as it hurts for him to hear it, though, he stayed still and silent.

"Was this karma? Have I fucked up that badly?!"

"Randy, shut the fuck up. Don't blame Stan for you're life being a waste." Sharon spat with venom in her voice. Randy laughed again, keeping eye contact with his 'dissapointment of a son'.

"Have you been letting him fuck you? I swear if you have-"

"Randy! Stop!" Sharon ran up beside them. Stan scoffed as he slowly stood up, ignoring the excruciating pain he's in.

"So what if I have?" Stan asked flatly. He knew deep down that this was the case with his dad regarding his secondary gender ever since he presented. Randy clicked his tongue.

"Well, you're going to be homeschooled this year. At least you won't be around that Tucker kid all that much." He replied with a sinister look, taking another swig of his whiskey. "I don't want any fucked up grandkids."

Stan felt himself snap, flipping off his dumbass father before running up the stairs. Between Thomas and Randy, it's a miracle Stan hadn't just run away yet.

As soon as he slammed his bedroom door shut, he hunched over in pain. He was beginning to panic a little bit at the amount of pain he's in.

What if it's really serious? Deep down, Stan knows that something is horribly wrong. He doesn't know what it is, but his instinct is telling him to run back to his alpha. He needed comfort.

He needed peace.

Stan waited for the pain to pass, but this time, it was much more constant. It's no longer coming in waves.