The silence was deafening, Kyle thought, as he made his way up the gravel road. But the truth was it wasn't silent; the wind howled and spit its bitter rain on his skin, the leaves rustled all around. The rocks crunched beneath his feet, in the same pattern he just couldn't bear to break. It sounded like heartbeats.

What was silent was his mind. There wasn't even white noise to buzz in his brain. The realization hadn't quite hit him yet; it left him feeling off kilter. He was waiting for the bomb to explode but the truth was it already had.

It was mid-afternoon. He and Kenny had spent the morning hours searching for Stan, calling him, texting him, but when they were given no response they took matters into their own hands. Kenny was waiting in the car; it wasn't his place to be there.

He made his way down the hill, and bunched the cuffs of his sweater in his hands. He found Stan just as he thought he would, sitting on the dock, feet in the near-frigid water, the pant legs pulled up around his calves.

"Hey," he called, stepping onto the dock. Stan didn't reply; instead he just kept his gaze on the water. He didn't expect a response. "I've been looking for you for hours."

Not that it really mattered to Stan. Kyle knew he was lost in his mind, daring himself to go to the corners of his mind he knew not to venture. Only these thoughts came beckoning on their own accord, dragging him along with them.

Kyle sat down next to him. His eyes shifted in his direction but he still said nothing. The redhead sighed heavily and clasped his hand. He squeezed the skin gently; feebly, Stan tightened his grip as well.

And so they sat, staring off passed the water, the tree line and the horizon, into nothing. Time was lost to them as they remained in the silent comfort of one another. His mind was still numb, white noise and buzzing with nothing, but with Stan near he knew he wasn't alone. He knew he was safe.

"The last thing..." Stan finally whispered with a shaky voice. He turned to Kyle, and that's when he saw it. Felt it. The ache in his heart twisted his stomach and raked his mind. He wasn't numb anymore. Everything hurt, and as he gazed into Stan's miserable eyes he realized there was nothing he could do about it. There was nothing he would be able to say to make a difference.

Nothing would bring Randy Marsh back.

"The last thing he said to me was 'don't forget to call when you're home.' Just... just a simple request. But... but I didn't." Stan's voice wavered and he wiped his eyes. They were rimmed with red. Kyle nudges his arm and the raven-haired man rests his head on his shoulder.

"Stan..." he felt him shake in his arms. His hold tightened and he closed his eyes. He almost wanted the numbness. The null feeling, that quiet buzz in his brain was far more comfort than this despair.

Randy Marsh was dead.

"I could have called. Just two minutes. I could have told him I loved him... but... now he'll never even know I got home. He'll always be wondering if I made it. I just..." a sob ripped from his throat, and he buried his face in Kyle's shoulder.

The redhead wrapped his arms around Stan and closed his eyes as he looked up to the sky. But his hold was little comfort to Stan, despite how hard Kyle tried. He was nothing more than phantom touches and a quiet whisper to attempt to calm him. But it didn't work.

And how could it? Despite Randy Marsh being... well, Randy Marsh, he was a father who cared. A father who cared deeply for his family, and put more time and effort into his children, and his kids' friends, than any of their parents. Randy supported them all through everything; he was Stan's main guide through treatment for alcoholism. He was the reason he went in the first place.

And just like that he was gone. Everything Stan worked so hard for went with it. And now here they were in the mess of everything; away from the world that wasn't even aware of another man's death. Away from the people who knew but gave little more than a second thought. It was just them, staring out into the water as if nothing ever happened.

"Stan..." Kyle trailed off, "Kenny's waiting."

He broke the man from his reverie and watched the trance-like expression fade from his face. Instead he was left in shambles, trying to make it appear like he had it all together when in fact he was nothing more than broken pieces.

"Kay..."

Kyle put his hand around Stan's waist and led him away from the pond. As they walked up the hill, slowly and silently, he glanced at Stan. His head was turned in the direction of the water, as if it was his last connection with his father.

Except when they got to the car Kenny wasn't there. It was just them now, Kyle gave a silent "thank you" to Kenny and would remember to actually say it to him later. He opened the passenger door for Stan and gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze as he curled his legs to his chest. He stared wistfully out the window, and didn't even smile when Kyle crossed his eyes and poked out his tongue in a cheap attempt at cheering him up.

The drive home was silent; no music played from the radio. Except Kyle's mind was running rampant with memories and thoughts that caused his eyes to burn. He bit his lip and sighed heavily as he turned off the car, and smiled weakly at Stan.

"Hey..." he murmured when the man next to him let out a shaky breath. Quickly he wiped the tears from his eyes and turned to the window once more.

"Dad?" His voice broke as he spoke, "I'm home."

With those three words he broke down. He buried his head in his hands and his body wracked with sobs he couldn't control. Kyle reached over and rubbed his back despite the voice in his head telling him not to touch him.

"He knows," Kyle replied, pressing a kiss to Stan's temple, "he knows, my bright eyes."