Chapter Text
Despite his exhaustion, Stan couldn't help but double over in laughter over his friends' antics.
After baseball practice the four of them, Stan, Kyle, Cartman, and Kenny, had decided to try and sneak into City Wok and steal some food from the new salad bar they had recently installed. Kenny, with his expert work experience at the Chinese restaurant was able to grab a basket of breadsticks and a tray of black olives, balancing them precariously in his arms, but Cartman just had to draw attention to them by knocking into the bar and smashing a few glass plates on the ground.
Stan had figured that Kenny would've dropped all the food on their way out of the building with how fast they all sprinted out of there, laughing their heads off as they tossed the food they had grabbed and ran into the woods, but to his surprise, on their way back to the baseball field, Kenny had quietly pulled a large breadstick out of his parka and started munching on it, nearly choking when Kyle and Cartman, both too caught up in arguing over whose fault it was that they nearly got caught, tripped over a tree root and ate shit, tumbling over each other.
"You guys are idiots," Stan wheezed out, gripping the puffy fabric of Kenny's sleeve as the two of them fought for breath.
"This is exactly why we nearly got caught! Kahl's heavy Jewish feet were making everyone stare at us!" Cartman shouted, moving to sit up. He shrieked as Kyle tackled him back to the ground.
"I thought you said my people were sneaky!"
"Well you're clearly the exception- AH KAHL!"
Stan's knees buckled as he laughed even harder, watching as Kyle stuffed snow down the back of Cartman's coat, making the bigger boy flail.
Kenny's steady arm kept Stan on his feet as the two of them laughed.
"Come on guys," he chuckled out, "we're almost back to the field. Quit horsing around."
Stan heard Kenny zip his parka back up over his mouth once he finished his breadstick, slowly calming down from his own giggles as Kyle and Cartman got off the ground, still shoving each other.
"Do you think anyone would be down for a snowball fight?" Kyle asked, stuffing his curls neatly back into his hat and smoothly elbowing Cartman in the gut when the other tried to yank a side of it.
"Butters'll wanna hang with us." Kenny said, his voice muffled behind his coat.
The four of them started making their way down to the baseball field as they talked. The field had become the perfect place for them to play during the slightly warmer months in the wintery tundra that was South Park, and since they all had just finished one of their games a couple hours before, Stan knew that the majority of their friends were likely free and bored out of their minds.
"Plus, Clyde’ll come if we can get Tolkien to." Kenny added.
They finally made their way out of the woods and could see the old wire fence around the baseball field, blocking the back of the bleachers from the tree line.
Finding their usual entry point, Stan lifted the bottom of the wire out of the way, allowing the others to duck under the fence and make their way under the bleachers.
"I can text Tolkien and Wendy. I’m sure Wenz could get some of the girls to join." Stan said, following them into the dark space as Kyle held the metal out of the way.
"Aw weak, man." Cartman groaned.
"You can just go home if you don't want to play with the girls Fatass." Kyle said, tossing his backpack full of his diabetes supplies that his mom made him bring onto the ground. He crossed his arms and glared over at Cartman who was squinting out through the slats between the bleachers.
"Not that you pissy bitch. Look."
Kyle furrowed his brow and glanced at Stan before walking up to where Cartman was peaking out into the baseball field. Stan and Kenny followed.
Stan squinted and pressed his forehead against the cold metal, his heart sinking at the sight of his father dancing around with a beer in his hand surrounded by the other fathers of South Park.
"Shouldn't they have left by now?" Kyle asked.
Stan sighed and closed his eyes, thumping his head against the bleachers in defeat as his dad yanked off his shirt and spun it over his head.
"Yeah. But I bet my dad already had his fuckin’ base ball bag stuffed full of beer before the game even started."
Stan grimaced as he heard his friends all groan and sit down in the dirt, sad to see their plans get ruined. He followed their lead, not even trying to hide his pout and he rested his cheek in his hand.
"I’m sure it wasn't just your dad, Stan," Kyle said, leaning his shoulder into Stan's.
"Mine probably did too," Kenny agreed.
"Adults are so fucking annoying," Cartman grumbled, drawing in a patch of dirt with a stick.
"You're telling me," Stan sighed.
It honestly felt like his dad was doing it on purpose. Every time Stan tried to do anything, his dad would be there to fuck it up.
Stan wanted to learn how to skateboard? Obviously his dad would take up roller blading and break four lamps and the oven door, making his mom ban any and all forms of skating in their family. Stan wanted to buy a record of his favorite album? Of course his dad would get into mixing music that week and somehow figure out how to accidently record over it with his own shit. Stan wanted to hang out with his friends at the baseball park? It only made sense for his dad to get drunk with all of his friends' dads that same night, celebrating a game that their kids didn't even fucking win.
Stan cringed, hunching his shoulders, as he listened to the drunk men across the field cheer over something, hooting and hollering like a bunch of giant idiots.
"God. Just listen to them," he grumbled against his knees. Cold and spindly fingers of resentment clawed at his organs, making him hug his knees tighter. He made sure to keep his eyes planted firmly on the ground, but he could still feel the curious gazes of his friends turning towards him.
He sighed. "I never want to end up like them."
He felt Kyle's gloved hand against his back. "Don't worry Stan. I'm sure we won't end up like them. Maybe we'll end up more like our moms."
"WHAT?"
"Absolutely not!"
Stan and Kyle looked up at Cartman and Kenny's outbursts.
"I do NOT want to end up like my ma!" Kenny shouted, his southern accent bleeding into his surprisingly clear voice behind his hood as he stood up and stomped his boot.
"I would rather kill myself!" Cartman agreed.
Kyle rolled his eyes. "Well, I don't really want to be like my mother either, but given the choice between-"
"No guys, that’s not what I meant." Stan looked around at each of his friends. Kenny stood with his arms crossed defensively and his eyebrows pinched, Cartman sitting next to his feet with a scowl on his face. Kyle sat next to Stan, leaning forward with his palms on his knees as he sat criss-cross. "I meant them. Our parents. All of them. They suck. They're dumb and annoying and boring and just, everything that we aren't. I’m tired of them."
Stan watched as the looks on each of his friend's faces smoothed slightly.
"I don't want to grow up and be like them."
"Technically, we don't have to be like them..." Kyle said, his voice quiet as it drifted off. He looked away from Stan and picked at a lone piece of grass next to his shoe, like he didn't believe in his own words.
"Yeah, and I'm gonna become a millionaire driving NASCAR." Kenny scoffed, plopping himself back onto the ground.
"Ha! I’m shocked you're poor ass could even say that word. Did it taste deliciously rich on your poor lips, Kenny?" Cartman teased, ducking when Kenny tried to swat him in the back of the head.
"If any of us were going to become some old bum by age twenty, it would be the fatass." Kyle grumbled, rolling his eyes.
"Ay! I'm not going to become some loser like those assholes."
"I mean, you're already halfway there."
"You shut your mouth you ginger!"
Stan ignored his friend's bickering, using his finger to trace circles in the sand. Both of his parents were constantly at odds. Arguing and disagreements were normal with them. It was weird to think that they were actually as happy together as they always claimed to be. Stan could never imagine living a life like that.
"What if we tried to make sure it didn't happen to us?" he mumbled.
Kenny, Kyle and Cartman all looked over at him.
"How would we do that?" Kenny asked.
"Well," Stan awkwardly shifted in his spot, feeling his ass falling asleep from the cold ground. "What's the one thing our parents don't have that we still do?"
The three of them glanced at each other before tossing out different answers.
"Talent?"
"Dreams?"
"Sex appeal?"
Stan blinked. "What? No. Us. They don't have friends like we do."
"My parents have friends," Kyle scoffs.
"Aunts and Uncles don't count."
Kyle opened his mouth.
"My dad doesn't count either."
Stan watches Kyle's smile fall, his brow furrowing.
"We can keep each other in check. You know? We can make sure that none of us become boring old men who hate their lives."
"How do you suppose we do that, Hippie? We gonna do gay little weekly checklists or something?" Cartman huffed.
Stan pursed his lips.
How would they make sure of it? It probably wasn't easy to tell when you were becoming boring and miserable. All of their parents likely fell into the habits that led them to where they were now without even thinking about it.
"How about, when we're grown ups, we make a plan to go on a trip together? Like a checkpoint in a videogame," he suggested.
"Where to?" Kyle asked.
"Anywhere we want," Stan answered, feeling his confidence grow as he started picturing it. "We just need to make sure we all get out of this stupid town. We'll party and go on adventures. Maybe we could go and see the ocean."
"I've never thought about seeing the ocean before," Kenny mumbled.
"So, a road trip?" Cartman asked, squinting his eyes at Stan.
"I guess so. We could go see the Grand Canyon or something."
Kyle shook his head and wrinkled his nose. "Absolutely not. I do not want to spend hours crawling around on rocks and getting all sweaty and gross to look at a hole."
Cartman grinned. "Finally, something I can agree with the ginger on."
Kyle rolled his eyes but didn't protest.
"When would we go?" Kenny asked, tilting his head.
"Um..." Stan pressed his lips. "When do you think our parent's lives started falling apart?"
"I don't think my mom's ever tried to get hers together." Cartman complained.
"Probably when my mom got pregnant with Kevin."
"How old was she?" Kyle asked.
Kenny hummed and looked up as he thought it over.
"Probably like, nineteen."
"That doesn't seem adulty enough," Stan sighed.
"My parents moved to South Park when they were like twenty-four," Kyle suggested.
Stan took a deep breath, thinking it over.
"My parents had me around that age."
"Sounds like that's the age old people start making dumb, life-changing choices," Cartman said.
Stan, Kyle and Kenny all nodded in agreement.
"We need to make sure none of us start doing that." Stan said. Wiping away the doodles he made in the sand, he started making a list of places. "How about, on the first day of summer, before any of us turn twenty-four, we all meet up?"
"Where?" Kyle asked.
"Somewhere outside of South Park."
"How about Denver?" Cartman suggested.
Stan raised a brow at the boy.
"Like, it's out of South Park, and the poor boy can still get there by bus if he needs to."
"Fuck you." Kenny grumbled, flipping the other off.
Stan shrugged, writing Denver down in the sand.
"Okay. We'll all meet up in Denver. We'll go up to California to see the ocean."
Kenny suddenly lit up, leaning into Stan's space.
"Could we go to Vegas too?" he asked, excitedly.
"Now that sounds like a fun idea," Cartman said.
"Sure," Stan agreed, adding it to a spot in the list with a smile.
Slowly, Stan forgot all about his drunk dad being an embarrassing mess across the field. Their group worked hard to make one of the most detailed plans they have ever produced in their nine long years of life, filled with all the things they couldn’t wait until they were adults to do.
"What if we all got an apartment together?" Stan suggested.
"Fuck no," Kyle declined. "Sharing a toilet with Cartman is asking for death."
"Screw you Kahl! I'm gonna break into your house and shit in your toilet anyway."
"Like hell you are!"
Kenny snorted from his spot laying in the sand, staring up at the bottom of the bleachers. "Eric Shartman."
Stan grinned as Kyle burst into laughter and Cartman squawked in protest.
Their plan wasn't finished until the sun had long gone down and their dads had all gone home. Kyle stood above them, balancing his phone in the bleachers so that his flashlight lit up their plan as they each read through it.
"How's it look?" Stan asked. He wasn't sure why, but he felt a little nervous about this whole thing. It was like some kind of dread had sunk to the bottom of his stomach. He'd never really put this much thought into his future like this before.
"Looks kind of expensive..." Kenny sighed.
Stan frowned and Kyle opened his mouth to speak, but Cartman beat them both to it.
"Don't worry about it, Poor Boy. Just bring your gameboy on the trip and I’ll cover your portion with my mom’s card."
Kenny defensively crossed his arms. "You just wanna steal my gameboy!"
"Kenny, you don't have to bring anything. Just chip in where you can. I'm sure we'll be able to cover you. My dad's going to help me get a paid internship during law school so it should be fine." Kyle offered.
“Plus we’ll be taking my car since I’m going to buy one as soon as I get my licence.” Stan would be damned if he got stuck sharing a vehicle with Shelly or, God forbid, his dad.
Kenny pressed his lips, clearly still uncomfortable with the idea.
Stan glanced at Cartman when Kenny turned his gaze back to the boy, spotting him mouthing the words "game boy" to him while rubbing his index and middle fingers against his thumbs. Stan rolled his eyes, standing up from the ground and stretching his arms high above his head.
The plan seemed pretty solid. They'd make a round trip from Denver to California and back. They'd prove to themselves that they weren't becoming their parents.
It was kind of nice.
Stan found it comforting to know that he had a group of friends who would always be there for him. He wouldn’t be alone. For the first time in a while, growing up didn't sound so terrifying.
"You all should come to my house for a sleepover tonight." Cartman announced. "We can set up a theater in my basement and my mom'll make popcorn."
"I'll have to stop at home and-"
"Yeah, yeah, get your meds or whatever. Kahl's on board, how about you Kinny?"
Stan smiled to himself as he aimed his phone at their plan, snapping a photo as Kenny gave his muffled agreement.
"What about you, Hippie?"
Stan turned to look at his friends, squinting to see them in the darkness. He grinned, his breath fogging in front of him as he replied.
"Can we order pizza, too?"
…
Ten years.
It had been ten years since he’d seen any of them.
Stan brought his clasped hands to his lips and took a deep breath, closing his eyes. The old cafe’s outdoor chair creaked as he bounced his knee. How were they supposed to know that this place, which had once been the trendiest coffee shop in all of Denver, would become a desolate crap hole, one wrong review from getting shut down.
Hearing footsteps approaching, Stan looked up, feeling his heart jump in his chest. He relaxed at the sight of the elderly waiter topping off his coffee. Although, it didn’t really need topping off.
Stan couldn’t bring himself to drink it. Not only did it taste like shit, but his stomach was a twist of nerves as he sat in wait.
This was so fucking stupid. There was no way any of them were going to show. Not after how he left.
God, why was he such a piece of shit?
He still found himself often staring at Kyle’s Instagram page, his thumb hovering over the message button, willing himself to just send something. Anything. But, he could never bring himself to do it. You would think that it would be easy to push down the urge since Kyle wouldn’t post anything for months at a time, his Instagram a much cleaner space than the long history of messages their private texts held, but it honestly made it harder. Stan had no idea how Kyle was doing. Had he already graduated from Columbia? Was he dating anyone? Did he go drinking on weekends or was he still a nerdy shut in? Did he make any new friends? Did he even think about Stan anymore?
He longed for the days when Kyle would still try and get in contact with him. Desperately blowing up his phone with messages and notifications from any app with the ability to message. Kyle had even called his mother, and their new house phone when he figured it out, on multiple occasions.
Stan had ignored him. Every. Single. Time.
It had been years since Kyle had last tried to contact him.
It was a little easier with Kenny. Kenny never tried to drag anything out of him.
While Kyle had been blowing up his messages with question after question, Kenny had realized almost immediately that Stan wasn’t going to give them any answers. Stan had nearly cried when he finally opened Kenny’s messages, finding only memes and tiktok videos sent to him with no pressure to respond. It was so much easier to heart a video every few weeks than to acknowledge his old life. If it upset Kenny in any way, he hadn’t said anything about it.
Kenny was smart. He probably found himself a good job by now. Maybe in construction or machinery. Hell, maybe he ended up going to college for all Stan knew.
Cartman was probably out running some huge underground pyramid scheme that would either end with him as a multi-millionaire or behind bars. Either way, he probably wouldn’t be able to make it to the meet up.
Pulling his hands away from his face, Stan wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. He almost regretted what he chose to wear. He had dialed back how ‘goth’ he was during his little phase back in elementary school, but the style had stuck with him in high school. He also just preferred to wear darker clothes and ripped jeans since they were the easiest things to throw on without much thought. He made sure to choose some plain black ball-stud earrings and only put on a little bit of eyeliner, hoping that it was simple enough to not be off putting.
God, what the hell was he doing?
He didn’t live too far outside of Denver, as he had been staying with his mom for the past couple years, so the drive wasn’t too terrible, but still, this was a good few hours he would never get back. He could be doing something productive like, restocking the fridge, or job searching or playing Balder’s Gate III, but no. He was at some dumb meeting place with nothing but a bunch of bags, a fueled up car and some false hope that he’d see the people he had abandoned nearly a decade ago.
He rested his elbows on the table and dropped his head into his hands, tugging on his hair. The ends still felt tacky from being bleached to hell and back. “Shit.” He grumbled.
“Stan?”
Jerking his head up, Stan looked towards the sound of his name with wide eyes. His mouth immediately went dry and his heart raced in his chest.
“K-Kyle? Hey. What’s up, man?” Stan quickly fixed his hair and stood up from his seat, moving to hug Kyle on instinct, but before he could take a step he stopped, awkwardly letting his arms fall to his side.
“Hey Stan.”
Kyle’s voice was so much deeper than he remembered, but it still had that familiar frey to it, almost crackling at the edge of his words. Stan knew he probably looked dumb with the shock that was coursing through him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
Kyle looked so… different. His wild curls weren’t shoved into a hat like he had done their entire childhood. Instead, he had them cropped just below his ears, free to frizz in the sun and frame his face. And, even though he shouldn’t be surprised by this, Kyle’s jaw was sharp and his eyes worn. He looked older.
He was older.
They had grown up.
“Look at you! You're taller than me now!” Stan said, gesturing to all of Kyle.
Kyle chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck with a half smile. “Yeah. Had a pretty big growth spurt in middle school.”
“That’s when you started basketball right?”
“Mhm. Your hair’s different.” came Kyle’s quick and stiff reply.
Stan stuttered a bit and ran a hand through his hair, realizing that Kyle had no reason to know about how he went full blonde a few years before and had been trying to grow it back out ever since, nor would he know how he tried to pierce his own ears on his own at the farm when he was seventeen since his dad wanted to go into South Park to sell some of his weed and Stan refused to go with him. He had impulsively found anything he could do to distract himself from thinking of his past life in the little town. In the end his ears were a bloody mess and his mother had to take him to get his ears taken care of by a professional once he was back with her.
He had much better luck giving himself snakebites when he was nineteen, the kids he hung around at his new school having been well versed in the practice.
“Oh, yeah! Bleached it all on my own a while back. Just… uh wanted a change.”
“Cool.”
Stan nodded, unsure how to proceed with the line of conversation. He felt slightly panicked as he realized that he had no idea what else to say.
Never in his life did Stan Marsh think that he wouldn’t have anything to talk about with Kyle Broflovski. His Super Best Friend. They used to be the kings of spewing bullshit and gossip to each other. It made his chest ache.
His eyes flicked around as he tried to force something to come out of his mouth other than nervous vomit. Kyle had a couple bags next to him as he shifted on his feet, reminding Stan of why they were here in the first place.
“So, uh… how have you been?” Kyle asked.
Stan shrugged. “Good. Yeah, things have been pretty uh… good. Yeah. How about you?”
“Same here I suppose,” Kyle said with a stiff nod.
Stan found himself copying the other, giving a tentative nod of his own.
It slowly grew quiet between them.
“No way! Is it really you guys?” Another achingly familiar voice shouted.
Kyle and Stan turned and found a grinning Kenny waving at them as he walked over, a simple backpack over his shoulder. It was both surprising and not surprising at all to see the man dressed in a huge puffy orange parka that went down to his knees, obviously not the same one from their childhood, but it was a pretty close replica.
“Hey, Kenny!”
“Hey, Dude!”
Stan and Kyle greeted Kenny with grins on their faces, allowing Kenny to pull them each into a hug. It was a little awkward, Kenny only giving Stan a quick squeeze before quickly backing away, but it was something.
“I thought I’d be the only one to show up. I’m impressed.” Kenny looked Stan up and down, taking in his appearance. “You look cool, by the way.”
Stan chuckled. “Thanks. And yeah, I think the owner of this place would’ve threatened to kick me out by now if I wasn’t his only customer.”
Kyle glanced at the shop with a grimace. “I kind of thought this place would’ve been a little more…”
“Poppin’?” Kenny offered.
“Yeah.”
Stan nodded in agreement.
“Uh, you guys want me to order you anything? The coffee’s shit but they might have something edible. I didn’t really look.” Stan shoved his hands in his pockets, rocking on his feet.
Kyle and Kenny declined, Kenny making some dirty joke about coffee that made Stan and Kyle laugh.
Stan almost felt dizzy with all the nostalgia hitting him in the face.
Kenny had grown quite a bit too, managing to be just slightly taller than him.
Stan pointed it out and Kenny had laughed, showing off his platformed boots that gave him the couple extra inches, revealing that he was actually shorter than Stan. His hair went down to about his shoulders and was a wild mess from being in his hood. His cheeks had a smattering of freckles and there was a pale streak down the left side of one of them. A scar from something. With how many precarious situations Stan remembered Kenny getting into when they were younger, it wasn’t too surprising. He was pretty sure Kenny also had a scar on the back of his right thigh from when he got pushed off the monkey bars when they were seven. That was the first time any of them had seen stitches.
Stan found himself just staring at his old friends. He wished that he could just tell them everything. Apologize for abandoning them, explain why he grew distant, tell them about all he’d gone through since leaving South Park… but he couldn’t.
There was a rift between them all.
One that Stan had made himself.
His eyes caught on something moving behind Kenny and he leaned to the side to take a look. His eyes widened at the sight of Eric Cartman, texting on his phone and grumbling as he hauled a few duffle bags across the parking lot. Kenny and Kyle must’ve noticed Stan’s staring, because the two of them quickly whipped around to see what he was looking at.
They all watched as Cartman finally looked up from his phone, his feet stuttering as he stopped and stared back at them.
“Oh, wow. You guys actually…”
Kenny gave a shy little wave and Cartman swiftly schooled his features, adjusting one of the large bags in his arms and walking over to them.
He cleared his throat. “So, we doing this or what?”