Failure (Stan x Kyle) [Completed]

14

Completely out of reality as he walked out of the school, Stan was blinded by the sunlight as he attempted to run from his problems. He stumbled down the sidewalk, taking another swig of his flask as he tried to walk home.

So far from being able to see straight, Stan could barely stay on the sidewalk. Nonetheless, he pressed on, drinking more, and more as he stumbled on. His mind was empty as the sun beat down on his back, sweat beginning to form in beads on his forehead.

Stan barely noticed he had gotten to his house until his key was in the door, his hands fumbling to turn the door knob. Slamming the door as he basically fell in, Stan threw off his boots at the bottom of the stairs, not giving a shit if his mother got angry at him later.

"S-stupid fuck.." Leaning on the wall for a moment as he made his way to the kitchen, trying not to throw up, Stan muttered to himself. "fucking Kenny and-and K-Kyle. Fuck those, g-guys."

"Stanley!" Nearly jumping out of his skin, Stan saw his mother staring at him in horror from the kitchen table, dropping the cup of coffee she was holding. "Are you drunk?!"

Trying to play it off (poorly), Stan stood up straight, only to lean against the wall as the world began spinning. "Nooo..." He sniffled, pointing a rude finger. "Y-You're drunk!"

Sharon's eyes began to spill over with tears as she looked at her seventeen year old son, drunk as hell at noon, on a fucking weekday. But she had enough of feeling helpless with her son.

Sharon pulled Stan by his arm, yanking him down into a chair as she angrily poured him a cup of coffee. After he sipped it for a few minutes, his mind began to calm a little, everything coming back to him quickly. Luckily for him, Stan was good at sobering up when he really needed to.

Stan's eyes focused on his mother after a little long, and he nearly passed out from shock. "Um.. wha..?"

Rubbing her temples, Sharon sighed. "Stan, you came home drunk from school." Stan avoided her eyes as he stared at his coffee, gulping some down. "I'm at the end of my rope here. Why won't you just talk to me?"

Looking up with surprise from the lack of anger in his mother's voice, Stan mouth fell agape. "I-I don't know." There was silence before Stan forced himself to answer fully. "I'm just so miserable, but.. but I don't know why."

"You could've just told me that instead of.." She trailed off, motioning to Stan's state. "I can't see you like this anymore. Please, for your mother and your well being, get help."

"How?" Stan looked up through his heavy eyelids, his bottom lip trembling in defeat.

Sharon threw some pamphlets on the table, not saying a word as the words 'rehab', 'therapy', and 'peace' stuck out to Stan. Could this really be the answer for him?

~

After hours of discussing things with Sharon, Stan and his mother made multiple phone calls to places around the city. Something that stuck out to Stan the most from those pamphlets, was something called a day program. The 'patient' would come during the day (this program pertained to adolescents), receive therapy, addiction counseling, and communication with a psychiatrist.

Unfortunately, this meant that Stan would have to miss a lot of school. Sharon had a plan to work that out with the teachers and principal, and collect his homework every morning. The program was only for three weeks, which hopefully would be enough time for Stan to get on the right track again.

It was a difficult decision for Stan. He really didn't want to need help, but after seeing his mother's face after she saw him drunk, he knew that he couldn't put her through what Randy did.