Failure (Stan x Kyle) [Completed]

10

Trigger warning: Physical Abuse & a Suicide attempt. (Tbh this chapter is very intense, I am SO sorry)

Stan was completely distraught as he climbed in the back of his mom's car, his mom in the front yelling nonsense at him. He couldn't care though, he knew that he had fucked up everything with Kenny and Butters, but he was doing what he truly thought was right.

Whether he was wrong or not, he sure as hell was miserable. Kenny had never been so mad at him before, and Stan was sure that he wasn't going to get him back for a long time. The first thought that crossed his mind as soon as Kenny left, was that he needed a drink. Still with drinking thoughts in his head, Stan played with the chip in his pocket as he drifted off to sleep, ignoring his mother's words.

Just as soon as he fell asleep, his mom was waking him up again, a weird look on her face. Stan sat up quickly, and saw his father leaning against the door frame of the front door. He glared at his sad excuse for a father in the dark, not wanting to deal with him after the day he's had.

Despite Stan not wanting to see Randy, he got out of the car anyways, and walked towards him. He really didn't understand why he was there though, he didn't have visitation rights because of how violent he would get during court hearings, but yet - there he was. 

"Hey." Stan said casually as he stood in front of his dad, his hands tingling as he felt the need to punch Randy, but he held back, his hands already fucking wrecked. 

Randy walked passed him, caring a bag behind him. "You're staying with me for a few days."

Stan shook his head, looking between his mother and father. "What the hell are you talking about?"

As Sharon started to explain, Randy cut her off with his hand, looking impatiently at Stan. "With what happened today with your friend, Butters, I'm giving your mother a break from you."

Looking towards his mother again, Sharon shook her head, but motioned that he go with Randy. Obviously, something else was going on, but Stan knew better than to get in the middle of that shit show.

Randy got in Stan's truck as Stan hugged his mother tightly, a few slipping out of his eyes and onto his hands. He climbed into the truck, throwing his shit in the back roughly, not caring if he upset his stupid father. 

The ride was tense the entire way to Randy's apartment, on the opposite side of town. Randy was obviously mad about something, while Stan was just fed up with the existence of his father, as horrible as it sounds. Stan wasn't afraid of Randy anymore like he used to be when he was younger, but he still didn't have to gut to ask him what was really happening.

As they parked the truck, Randy motioned for Stan to follow him up to the room. As soon as they were in the room, Randy threw Stan's bag across the room, shattering a lamp into pieces.

"Dad, what the fuck?" Stan yelled, his mouth agape as he looked at the lamp.

Randy pushed Stan up against the wall, his forearm pressing into his throat. Stan could smell the alcohol on his breath as he began to speak. "Why'd you protect that little faggot, Butters?"

Stan coughed slightly as he tried to catch his breath enough to speak, glaring at Randy. "He's my friend, and my best friend's boyfriend."

Knowing that it was a mistake, Stan held his breath as Randy threw him to the ground. "You think being a faggot is okay? It's fucking disgusting!"

Although he was already in a brutal amount of pain, Stan chuckled up at him. "Guess I'm half disgusting then."

Surprisingly, Randy understood what Stan was saying, and picked him up by his shirt collar. "Guess I'll have to beat it out of you, huh?"