Failure (Stan x Kyle) [Completed]

11

Everything around Stan was completely black. He was floating on a cloud of nothingness as he felt like he was under water, he chest heavy like bricks. He couldn't form many thoughts, but he knew that he was still existent.

Without warning, he started to float up to the surface, towards a bright, white light. Stan tried to pull back, and stay in the darkness, but it was like something was dragging him out by his legs. As he resurfaced, he felt as if he was being choked by something in his throat.

As he struggled to breathe, he heard voices around him, and suddenly he could breathe again. Stan could hear people talking around him, but couldn't open his eyes, a type of tiredness he had never experienced taking over his consciousness.

What seemed like an eternity later, Stan actually opened his eyes, being met with a white ceiling, and the sound of beeping machines. He felt his stomach sink as he realized that he had failed to kill himself. He knew his mother would be devastated, and his father would be outraged. Fuck, Stan just wanted to go back to the darkness.

"Mr. Marsh?" A deep voice called from close to him, causing Stan's eyes to fly open. "Someone is here to talk with you."

Stan nodded slowly, and watched as a small woman walked in. She sat next to Stan, waiting patiently as Stan regained his focus. "Are you okay to talk right now?" Despite being tired as hell, Stan nodded slowly, feel the heavy sedation. "What prompted your attempt?"

Shrugging, as if it was no big deal, Stan chuckled dryly. "My homophobic, abusive dad. My depression. My drinking addiction. My love for my ex-best friend. Take your pick of shitty things."  

The woman looked up from writing down her notes, and looked at Stan with sympathy. "So, you feel as if everything is shit, and you have no purpose."

After a moment of thinking, Stan nodded firmly. "Yeah, that's pretty accurate."

She wrote some more things down before she grabbed Stan's hand gently. "I'm going to get you help. I won't let you drown." Stan smiled lightly at her, feeling understood for once. "Would you like to see your friends?"

Although he wasn't too sure who she was talking about, Stan nodded, feeling anxiousness wash through his beaten body. He was a bit afraid that it was going to people that just wanted to fuck with him- like Cartman and Clyde. 

Kenny walked in timidly, dark circles under his eyes. Stan smiled weakly at him, half-waving as if it was just a normal day. As he was about to start talking, Kyle walked in behind Kenny, his hands in his pockets, and his eyes glued to the floor. 

Stan frowned at the sight of Kyle, remembering their last conversation. "Ken, what's he doing here?"

Kenny sighed, walking to the side of Stan's bed. "He saved your life, Stan."

Still refusing to let Kyle be apart of his life after recent events, he shook his head at both of them. "No. He can't be here."

Kyle nodded, not looking at Stan once, and left. Kenny looked at Stan in awe, but didn't say anything to him, due to the state he was in. Moving to the side of his bed cautiously, Kenny grabbed his hand with a death grip. "I wasn't going to cut you out of my life."

Stan turned fully towards Kenny now, wincing as he did. "W-what?"

Looking down at his hands, Kenny started to cry again, his eyes raw from constantly crying the last two days. "Just because I was mad at the time of the Butters thing, doesn't mean I was going to just drop you."

As he started to fully remember the events of the last few days, Stan grabbed Kenny's hand hard back. "I'm sorry I thought that." Kenny noticed that he was trying to fight off sleep. Suddenly, Stan opened his eyes, them surprisingly filled with anger. "Tell everyone that my dad beat me to shit. He deserves to go to fucking prison for beating me.."