((A/N: Okay this idea came to me suddenly and I just HAD to write it.
Tw: drug use, angst, so much angst…Character death maybe I he vent 's not very well edited so please excuse any mistakes in spelling or auto corrections that are in here))
Stan stormed out of his small upper floor home and out of the palm reading shop his mother owned in the lower floor. Ford rushed out after him begging him not to go, that their father was wrong and just being mean. That he was being ornery about the long day he had at work, but Stan wasn't buying a word of it. Ford felt hot tears in his eyes as he watched his twin brother storm off to his old beat up Chevy. He saw the keys were gone meaning his father had taken them as part of his "punishment."
Stan let out a loud snarl and slammed his fist to the side of the old Chevy. He stomped back up to the house but instead of going back inside like he should have and tried to reason calmly with his father or even let Ford comfort him by the water, he grabbed his red coat with the fluffy hood and trudged down the sidewalk to the only place he knew of that he could run too where no one would judge him. Rick Sanchez's house.
Stan knew the boy was a loose cannon and a terrible influence but he felt Rick was the only one who could understand -besides Ford- about how unbearable his father was. Rick had no father but he could always pretend to understand what Stan was going through and Stan gave him credit for that.
"Stan!" Ford cried, "Where are you going it's nearly midnight!"
Stan stopped halfway down the block and turned back to his brother standing at their front door, "Leave me alone sixer I'm going to Rick's!"
"Stan you know that Sanchez boy is no good!" Ford exclaims and rushes up to Stan to grab his coat sleeve firmly between his six fingers. His eyes were pleading behind his thick glasses. Stan saw the pain and desperation in his brothers eyes but he tore his arm away and continues his journey to Rick's house, leaving his brother standing in the cold.
Rick lived only a few blocks across town and Stan found the trek easy enough save for the howling cold winds burning his face. He sighed and watched a puff of white escape past his lips. He kept walking until an old collapsing building came into his view. Rick's home was in shambles because his mother worked 3 jobs and was never really home and Rick was too lazy to clean anything. Stan often found himself cleaning Rick's home when he passed out after smoking pot in his living room and watching tv. He didnt mind Rick smoking pot. Rick was always reckless and downright irresponsible. He was and little punk who shared Satan's own views on himself; he was just as useless. Stan sighed heavily trying to quiet those thoughts and his father's words that were screaming inside his head.
Stanley approached the old molded door that sealed the horrors of Rick's home from the rest of the world and he gave a heavy knock. A few moments of shuffling his feet in the snow on the stoop in an attempt to make a picture and Rick was there with the door swung open. He squinted at the streetlight outside and hisses softly as it burned his reddened eyes. Stan couldn't tell if it was from pot or just the fact he had woken Rick up.
"What is it man? Don't you know what time it is?" Where the first words out of his mouth, a reasonable greeting compared to his usual ones.
"Trying to get away from my old man. He's pissed at me again.." Stan muttered and watched Rick's face slack and a softness filled his hazy eyes. He stepped aside in a silent gesture for Stan to come inside.
Stan entered Rick's home to see it in somewhat netter condition than usual. No old food bowls, no open cans or dirty clothes lying around. It was oddly clean and even smelled like soft flowers. Odd. "Woah! What kind of magic is this!? Your house is actually clean!" Stan chided and gave a laugh. Rick rolled his eyes and grinned, "yeah yeah, my mom came home this morning early and I helped her clean up cause she didn't like her house looking like a tornado had torn through.." Rick said and made air quotes around the last but meaning it was the exact words his mother had said to him. Stan smiled softly at Rick's bitterness but he saw deep down he appreciated his mother's parental scoldings. It gave him a sense of worth to have someone chide him on menial tasks as if he were a normal boy. Rick allowed Stan to come in and he sat down on the couch. Stan watched Rick walk into the kitchen area. He came back with two beers and grinned almost devilishly and handed one to Stan. Taking the beer with a soft nod Stan opened it and took a sip of the bitter liquid. It filled his chest with a calming warmth and he smiled as it soothed some of the sting that still lingered from earlier.
"Your old man being an ass again?" Rick's voice suddenly broke through the silence that had accumulated between them.
"Yeah," Stan sighed, "He keeps saying I'll never live up to anything if I don't fix myself. That I should live my life like Ford. 'Why can't you be like your brother!?' He's such an ass."
Stan frowned into the rim of his bottle. He heard his father's words in his ears like soft whispers from hell. He hated his father. He hated how his father loved Ford, but he couldn't seem to find himself hating Ford. He couldn't, even if he had all the reasons in the world to and honestly he kinda did sometimes. He loved his brother more than anything. Some would argue it was unhealthy how close they were but Stan always chopped it up to the fact they were twins and twins always share a stronger bond than normal siblings. He always tried to discourage his love for Ford showing but Ford was a smart kid. His and Stan's emotions were synced. They always knew what the other was thinking or feeling. They knew everything that happened to one another because they were never apart. Even in times that they were apart they always told the other what they were doing. They were closer than close and they both knew nothing could separate them. That was one reason Stan didn't just run away lick Rick had suggested he do so many times. He couldn't leave his brother, even if it meant dealing with his overbearing father, he'd do it, all for Ford.
"E-Earth to buggh- S-stan!" Rick calls in Stan's general direction and waved a pale hand in front of his dark brown eyes.
"H-huh..?" Stan asked and looked to Rick.
"You were t-t-totally in la la land over there pal~" Rick teased and gave a soft chuckle.
"Oh…Sorry I was just thinking…"
"You need to stop that shit man…" Rick was given a confused look from Stan and he continued, "You need to stop thinking so much and just let go man!"
Stan huffed bitterly, "Yeah right…I'll never be able to do that…"
"Yeah you can, if you focus hard enough.." Rick replied with a loud burp at the end.
"Isn't that defeating the purpose not to think? Why would I want to focus if I'm supposed to relax and forget?" Stan replied with a smile.
"You see it's shit like that that can get you killed out here Stan!" Rick exclaimed and rolled his already empty beer bottle for emphasis.
"No it'll get me out of sticky situations! I'm a good bullshitter don't you know?" Stan teased earning an eye roll from Rick
"But seriously…Stan you gotta stop thinking so much about your dad. The old bastard ain't gonna change, m-might as well accept it and just leave him to have his perfect little family with your brother and run away. You can run with me! We're almost free don't you know? WE could leave anytime we want! We could get away from a-all these fucking people and just rough it out on our own!" Rick has a soft glint of longing in his eyes as he blabbered on about his preferred life where he didn't have to deal with his problems and could just live like he wanted. Stan knew it was too good of an idea to ever work. It would get them killed.
"That's not smart Rick.." He says softly and as his father must have witnessed, he watched the glint of joy evaporate from Rick's soft blue eyes.
"Buzz-kill….you sounded just like Ford there a second~" Rick gave a soft laugh.
"R-Really?" Stan asked almost immediately. He didn't know why but saying he sounded like someone as perfect and intelligent as Ford made his hear soar. Rick was no idiot himself, Stan would even argue he was almost as smart as Ford but he hid it under a cloud of mind numbing drugs and alcohol.
"Yeah.." He said and smiled warmly. His eyes suddenly darted away and an obvious moment of deep thought was upon the smaller man.
"What's up?" Stan asked, cursed his good sense of others' emotions.
"Well. I mean you complain so much about not being able to let go so…I wanna try something." Rick said and looked up into Stan's eyes with a sense of shyness.
Stan couldn't help the heat rising in his cheeks not understanding what it was Rick was hinting at. Could he possibly mean something romantic or even sexual? Stan wasn't really the one to get nasty with someone like Rick. He never really got sexual with anyone. No one really stuck around in his life long enough for them to get to that point.
"What are you implying Rick..?" He asked in a shaky rasp of a breath.
Rick didn't reply. He simply stood and walked over to one of the large china cupboards across the living room that held ancient porcelain that looked like it hadn't been touche din years. Rick fished around a few delicate eatery items before drawing out a black drawstring bag. He turned around and smiled at Stan mischievously before he ushered him to follow him upstairs to his train wreck of a bedroom. Stan obliged and followed Rick to his room. With eat step up the staircase his heart raced faster and faster. What did Rick have in store for him? He didn't know. Rick was unpredictable and always had some new trick up his sleeve.
Once at the boys bedroom Stan entered with Rick and shut the door behind himself. Rick walked paste a pile of trash and dirty clothes to plop down onto his dingy mattress with no covers, just one blanket and a sole flattened out pillow. Stan felt a tinge of sorrow nag at his heart for Rick's poor living conditions. After this night Stan vowed to invite Rick over more often.
Stan ran a hand through his longer brown hair and sat beside Rick. His hair was really growing out. Almost down to his shoulders now. Ever since he graduated high school a few months ago he wanted to grow it out and grow it did.
Rick looked to him and slowly opened the bag. Stan watched with a sense of anxiety as to what Rick you possibly pull out of the bag. What Rick did pull out shocked Stan to silence. A needle. Rick pulled out a small needle filled with a clear liquid. It was so odd to see one of those outside a hospital and Stan sat silently as he watched Rick also pull out a small elastic band. He looked up to Stan and waited a moment for Stan to just take his next breath because he seemed to be holding it in.
Stan shook out of his shock and looked to Rick in confusion, "What is that…?" He asked. He knew what it was. He knew it was stupid to ask Rick of all people why he had a needle filled with mystery liquid in his home. He knew it was some sort of drug. Stan would be lying if he said he'd never smoked pot with Rick before or drank himself into a slurring and stumbling mess but this…this was new and uncharted territory for him.
"Here..don't be a pus. I heard this stuff is real good for anxiety and all that good stuff!" Rick said and reached up removing Stan's jacket with his pale bony fingers.
Stan let Rick strip him of his jacket and he offered to remove his own shirt. He watched Rick with cautious eyes as he strapped the band of elastic around his arm. It was so weird. He couldn't believe he was letting Rick to do this. He tried to reason with himself that this was bad, that this couldn't end good for him. He wanted to get up and walk away so much but the pain in his chest was too much to just handle with a little beer and a back alley fist fight with a local kid. So he let Rick continue.
He watched as rick pooped the lid off the syringe once he had the band tied around Stan's upper arm. Stan felt his heart race a million miles an hour inside his chest. He heart the blood coursing through his veins. His ears echoed with the faint thumping of his heart as he watched Rick squirt out some of the liquid inside to clear the air bubbles. Sooner than Stan expected, he felt a stinging in his arm and watched as the needle went right into a plump blue vein. His air stopped and he watched with a he;d breath as rick injected some of the liquid into him then remove it and repeat the same action on himself. Once the liquid was gone, Rick placed the needle back into the back and pulled Stan down to flop onto his back on the bed. Stan allowed himself to lye back when the drugs began kicking in and his head swam in a sea of bliss and awkward spinning.
Stan smiled faintly as the memories of his father's words fade from his mind. His brothers image faded into nothing but a whisper of a memory and even his mother's beautiful face evaporated from his thoughts. Stan yawned after a few minutes of just feeling the drug work on his system before he felt a sudden drowsiness fill his body. It lurked up from his feet then to his stomach where if curled and rested before finally making its way to Stan's brain. He couldn't fight it and it took over him. With a final though of Ford's sweet smile on his mind he faded into a dark abyss that was sleep.
Rick awoke the next morning sore and drowsy. He groaned as his head throbbed inside his skull. He wanted to crawl into a dark hole and just sleep forever but he knew he had to get up and get Stan home before Ford worried too much and his folks called the cops.
Rick groaned as he sat up and stretched his back with a satisfying pop to his spine. He looked over to a sound asleep Stanley and sighed. Reaching over he shook Stan lightly. Stan didn't budge.
"Stan, get the fuck up! We have to get you home!" Rick groaned.
He watched Stan remain still and quiet. For a moment he felt his heart race and panic filled every fiber of his being. He swallowed down a hot ball of pure fear and tried shaking Stan more but to no use, Stan was lifeless as ever. He leaned down to listen to Stan's heart and he heart no sign of any life but the dwindling thump of Stan's heart. He backpedaled off the bed and into the floor with pure fear and terror in his teary eyes.
"Oh god.." Rick whispered in barely an audible sound.