𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘽𝙚𝙩 || 𝙎𝙩𝙖𝙣 𝙭 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙭 𝙆𝙮𝙡𝙚 ||

〚4〛I love you, I hate you

〚Your P.o.v〛

"(Y/n)..." Stan sobbed.

"Yes? Can you cry a little quieter, it's kind of hard to sleep," I said unapologetically.

"I'm sorry...! I'm sorry for everything! I shouldn't even be here! Since you've known me, all I've done is give you problems,"

I sighed, and turned around to face him in my bed, "Yeah, so shut the fuck up, the least you can do is be quiet so I can rest," I said annoyedly.

"Okay..." He shut his eyes, still facing me. I could see tears seep through his eyes. His lips trembled as he tried to sleep. Was I too mean? No, I don't think so. He kept crying quietly, as he tried to 'sleep'.

I sighed audibly, in annoyance, pinching the bridge of my nose. I saw his eyes open, and he immediately started apologizing, "I'm sorry (Y/n) *hic* I—"

I pulled him into my arms and seemed surprised by this. I thought Clyde was a crybaby, always needing me to pick him up when he's upset or being dramatic, but this Stan guy is so much worse. He barely even has his shit together.

"There, there, it's okay, I let out flatly.

Stan started to cry into my chest, as I ran my fingers through his hair. "Talk to me," I continued. He moved his face up from my chest, resting as he spoke, "I'm sorry (Y/n),"

"Be as sorry as you want, that's not what I'm asking. What I'm asking is for you to tell me what's wrong. Tell me everything,"

I spoke to him as if he were a child who had difficulty with directions.

"Everything?"

"Why you get drunk all the time, why you're always apologizing, why you're a complete mess! When I say everything. I mean it. Tell me everything,"

"Well I... uh, at first... everything seemed so shitty. It felt like everything sucked, and I couldn't do anything about it. Everything felt meaningless, and... sort of numb.  It happened so suddenly, I... I think it was because something inside me changed, and I became worse and worse; my habits, my personality... because of how bad I became, I lost people, people important to me. People like Kyle, and Wendy, sometimes they came back, sometimes they didn't... I... I'm just scared, scared of everything. I'm afraid of losing myself, losing everyone I love.... I lost Wendy, I lost Kyle, and now there's no one left who cares about me. I have nothing left to lose, and I... I don't know how to cope, so I cope the only way I've learned to..."

"That's nonsense Stan, lots of people care about you, Kenny, my brother—"

"They'll abandon me too one day because I'm a wreck. I'm broken,"

I silenced myself. I didn't know what to tell him. That he was right? Because he is. But if knows, why doesn't he change?

"You know what Wendy told me before she left me? She said, 'I can't fix you'" Stan said heartbrokenly. I ran my fingers through his hair, seeming at a loss for words.

For once, I don't know how to comfort someone properly. I've always been the designated caretaker when it came to breakdowns and life problems of friends. I should know what to do. I was given that role without even wanting it. But you have me stumped Stan. I don't know how I can help you.

"She can't fix you Stan," I spoke without thinking.

"You can?" He asked in almost a hopeful tone.

"No, Stan. No one can fix you, but you. You're the only one who can take control of your life, and live it the way you want to... This here? Me holding you, and comforting you is simply temporary relief. You have to be brave and make changes on your own. Whether you like it or not, you're going to lose people along the way. All that you can do is be thankful for those who stay. You don't need things like whiskey, because those are simply poor forms of temporary relief. You're already addicted as it is," I said firmly.