Kyle's P.O.V.

I arrived at Stan's house as his request for a chat, and knocked on the door.

I stood there for one and a half minutes, and knew he was on the other side of the door and hesitated to let me in, I could hear him on the other side.

Soon, he opened the door. He stood aside and let me in, but I noticed in his eyes he was tired. They were badly bloodshot.

The room was sort of foggy but smelled like fresh laundry? It lost me. Was he ironing clothing? I couldn't tell. Instead of questioning Stan's sanity, I sat on the chair next to the couch.

I noticed Ms. Marsh wasn't there because of the absent snorring inside of the household so I assumed it was just Stan alone.

Needing company? I didn't know.

Stan began to lighly cough his way to the couch and sit down. I could tell he was uncomfortable by his lack of communication, so I broke the silence.

"What's on your mind, man?" I questioned. Stan looked like he didn't want to say, but forced himself to anyways. "Kyle, uhmm.. I kinda have what you would call issues." He began.

What could he be talking about? Being absent from school?

"Being absent from school, staying up playing Call of Duty isn't issues, man-" I stated. He shook his head in disagreement. "It's not that-" Stan stared at me. He pointed at his eyes "This.. isn't from staying up late."

"I'm so scared to tell you, because I know you'll judge me and hate me.. but.. I've hid this for far too long." Stan stated sheepishly. "Stan, I would never hate y-" "I'm doing drugs, Kyle. And I've gotten very suicidal." He explained.

I felt tears start to form up. I felt so bad. I didn't hate him. I just felt very disappointed that he didn't tell me. "St-Stan.." I stuttered.

"I know you'll hate me. And I'm sorry."

I stood and sat on the couch beside him. I gripped his wrist, causing him to wince and I knew why. I stared at his faded blue bloodshot eyes. He had a difficult time looking back, but he tried. I could tell.

"I don't hate you, so shut up."

I started to look down at my legs that began to shake due to sadness.

"I'm disappointed-"
"Isn't that the same thing?" He questioned, due to lack of knowledge.

I shook my head instead of using a negative verbal response.

"I'm disappointed you didn't tell me." I explained. Stan's eyes began to tear up. I reached my arms out and wrapped him in a warm embrace.

God, I forgot how much I missed Stan. And being away from him too long led him to this. It was all my fault.

Stan hugged me back and started to cry into my shoulder. I ran my fingers through his dark raven hair and whispered comforting, yet simple sentences into his ear.

This brought back so many memories. Three years ago, before I drifted from the friend on my arms. Back when... I actually had some sort of intense feelings for him.

I never told him, because I was scared we would be more distant than we are now. That it held the future our friendship in a certain place.

And I still won't tell him. Even if the feelings return. "Thanks, Kyle.." Stan spoke, breaking me from my thoughts. His crying hitched his voice. But he managed to stop crying.

"Of course. Anything for my super best friend." I said soothingly into his ear. Stan smiled into my shoulder and back off of me.

We made a peaceful eye contact and I gave him a warm smile. "You know, I love you, right dude?" Why did I just-

"I love ya too, Kyle. Thank you for being here for me." He began, smiling at the floor beneath his feet.

"Of course.." I said, as I placed my hand on his shoulder. "But you know that means I'm always going to be here to help you stay away, right?" I explained. He laughed lightly.

"I'm not joking, Stan. I'm legit gonna help you, dude." I frowned. "I know, I know," Stan said, still laughing.

Him laughing, made me start to do the same. I began to laugh at how silly he was being and snapped out of it, and he did the same.

"How bad is it?.." I asked, referring to his cuts. "What?" Stan asked, confused. I pointed at his forearm. "Oh.. yeah... Pretty fucking bad."

"Let me see." I grabbed his hand and without permission, pulled his sleeve up, causing Stan to glance away. I was astonished.. I began to tear up again.

Stan looked at me when he realized I had yet to speak and pulled down his sleeve and wiped my beginning tears with his sleeve.

I quickly turned off my water fosset in my eyes and stood up. I began to walk to his bathroom where I was sure he had some sort of first aid. "K-Kyle, where are you going?" Stan traced my footsteps into the bathroom.

I started to rummage through his cabinet for cotton balls and medical alcohol. I found the items I were looking for along with some razor blades.

I pocketed the razor blades that I found. Traced with a hint of blood. "H-Hey, don't take it yet.." Stan begged. "And why not?" I asked, with a tang of sass to my voice. "I-" Stan began to speak but couldn't find the right words.

"Exactly."

I gripped Stan's hand and made him follow me back to the couch we were originally at. I yanked up his sleeve, causing him to wince at the pain of fabric scraping the cuts.

I opened the alcohol, and dabbed the cotton ball to the top of the bottle and tilted it lightly.

"This is gonna hurt," I warned him. "Well no shit, sherlock." Stan said sarcastically which led me to add more alcohol than planned.

I applied the cotton ball to his skin and rubbed over it, recieving a yelp from Stan. "Shh!!" I hushed him. I added three more coats of alcohol. "YOU THINK THAT'S ENOUGH?! THAT FUCKIN' HURTS!!" He whined.

"No shit, sherlock-" I gave him a smirk and stopped with the cotton ball. "You little shit." he remarked.

I stood and walked to the kitchen to discard the chemically-exposed cotton ball and walked back to the couch.

"I guess it looks like I'm staying the night." I dramatically sighed. "Your choice, not mine." Stan said, glancing at me.

I looked at my phone and realized it was already 5:30 P.M.. I remembered Stan's mom's schedule from staying over so much in the 8th grade before we all distanced.

I realized she arrives home in about thirty minutes.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. So what do you wanna do?" I asked him. Stan stood up and picked up a case. A movie? We usually play video games.

I noticed his XBox One that we always play on was gone. And his PlayStation 4 Slim was gone too. Did he sell it for money? I decided not to ask to avoid making him uncomfortable.

"What's the movie?" I asked. "Zombieland-" He replied, putting the movie in. Stan threw himself on the couch on me.

"Dude, get offfff meeeee!!" I joked and pushed him slightly off of me while laughing. Stan laughed in return and moved farthest away from me on the couch.

"Aww, did wittle Stanley get butthurt?" I teased him and pouted.

"Aww, could wittle Kyle not handle affection?" He mocked me right back.

I threw the pillow I was holding at him, but not too hard. Stan threw it right back at me.

I gripped the pillow tight and pouted. Making fake whimpers. "Owwie~"

"Aww, stop acting so babey." Stan joked and giggled.

We stopped clowning around and watch the movie until Stan's mom came barging through the door.

"Hey, Stan. Hi, Kyle." Ms. Marsh said, stumbling towards her room. She stopped in her place and turned around. "Wait.. Kyle?! It's been forever since you've been over! How are you?" She desperately asked, with worry to her tone.

I smiled at her care and replied. "I've been good, Ms. Marsh. How've you been?" I reflected back. "Eh. Working 24/7." She explained. "Anyways, if you boys need anything, help yourselves. I'll be resting-" She smiled, tiredly.

"Thank you. Rest well." I kindly promoted. "Thanks, Mom." Stan said quickly after. She put her hand up in an exiting style.

Stan and I continued to watch the movie until it finished.