Stan stayed there through many classes, hiding in the stalls whenever someone came in. He couldn't face anyone, and no one should have to face him either in this state.

It wasn't until the last class that Kyle finally found him, apparently having skipped in order to hunt for his best friend.

"Stan what-?" the red head breath hitched, knelt in front of him in worry, tilting his head up as he fretted.

As he feared, Stan was a complete disaster, eyes red and raw and alcohol tainting his breath.

"What happened between you and Kenny?" he demanded, pulling Stan up to wash his face at least.

"It's our fault. He left because of us," he hiccupped, leaning heavily against Kyle.

Kyle blinked, tugging Stan closer. "Really? Are you sure?"

"It makes sense! You're paying more attention to Carman than anyone else, even me!" he sobbed, even as he punched at Kyle; missing completely.

"You two seemed to-" the red head tried to defend himself, not realizing how much he had been hurting Stan and Kenny.

"I was always trying to make sure you two wouldn't kill each other!" Stan lamented heavily and clutched weakly at Kyle.

"Oh…" the Jew hadn't seen Stan so distraught since his mother died and it really pulled at the heartstrings.

But what was he supposed to do?

Now that he thought about it, it had been several months since he had a proper conversation, before the blonde left, with him. Now Stan was a complete disaster on he had no idea how to fix it.

"Stan, let's get'cha to my place and clean you up."

"I have soccer-"

"There's no way in hell you're playing like this."

"Coach is going to kick me," he hiccupped as the tears never ceasing.

Not saying what immediately came to mind the red head clenched his jaw. "Come on."

Letting himself be man handled out of the school, using the back door of the gymnasium so no one would see Stan like this.

He's now Stan for ages, trying to figure out how he was going to save Stan from himself.

Well for one, he was going to have to have a chat with Kenny. He was both pissed and upset that neither of them had known that they were treating him like that. That he felt so ignored.

He was pissed that he sent Stan into this spiral of self-loathing. Even if Kenny was upset, he shouldn't have done that to Stan.

All three of them knew of his drinking habit.

Once he had gotten Stan back to his own house, he drug his best friend up to the bathroom. "How much did you drink?" He nearly demanded as he lifted him into the tub.

"I dunno," he whined as Kyle started to strip him, hoping a cold shower would still help sober him up.

"Ugh, not helpful," he whined in a grunt before turning on the cold water and letting it wash over the noirette who had made himself a ball in the corner of the tub already.

"I'm going to get you some clothes, try to sober up," he half demanded and went into his bedroom.

Pulling out his cellphone, he attempted to call Kenny, being denied as it went straight to voicemail.

"Hey Ken, its Kyle. Look, I know we haven't talked in a while but we need to talk asap. Stan's a mess, he got himself drunk at school and I have him in my tub now. He didn't tell me much, but look. You knew he had a problem and did this? Really? And why didn't you tell us sooner about how you were feeling? We aren't mind readers ya know?" his voice was venomous as he left this message. "I'm going to swing by once I know Stan won't do something stupid. You better be home."

Stan was lying in bed, clutching a pillow with three blankets covering him from the noise of the world. Kyle did one last check before heading out and going towards the train tracks.

His mind was whirring with what he wanted to talk to Kenny about. First thing was defiantly about how he left Stan like that. The other was why he didn't tell them. He figured the other would probably be about his vigilantly duty.

"For fucks sake, why is this happening now," he ran his fingers through his messy hair. He desperately wanted to just be home doing his homework and studying for the midterms that were fast approaching, but no, he was walking to Kennys' house about to rip him a new one for Stans' sake.

That was until he knocked on the door and Kenneth opened the door with red eyes.

Words died in his throat and now he felt bad. "Ken…" he shifted nervously as shinning purple eyes looked down at the ground.

"I know. I'm sorry," his voice was quiet. "But I'm also not sorry. I told him how I felt like I promised and it got awkward. I'm not responsible for how he reacted, but I am sorry that he chose to start drinking so heavily."

Kyle chewed his lip as he thought this over. "Why didn't you tell us how you were feeling?" He decided instead to approaching from that angel.

"I…" he bit his lip. "None of you would pay attention when I talked." His voice fading out.

Kyle let out a small sigh and scratched the back of his neck. "I'm sorry….what about your hero duties? Why are you still doing that?"

The blonde seemed to think it over for a long while. "It makes me feel powerful."

That was a valid reason he figured after how they treated him.

"I'm…I'm really sorry for treating you like that, Ken. Could…could you try to talk to Stan again? Please?" he nearly begged, maybe this would wake his best friend up.

"I'll…I'll try" his voice timid and Kyle sighed softly.

"Thank you…and you're right. It's not your fault," Kyle reached and patted his shoulder softly. "Don't blame yourself."