LEARNING TO HEAL
May 11th
Stan could not recall having such a difficult time resting in a hospital bed before. He had thought the worst time was indeed after he had been rescued from his cave-in with his friends when he was nine. Yes, that was quite the story- four boys survive cave-in for four days! But at least there were times he was left alone. Hours after the rescues when his parents were driving up to meet him at the hospital. And after they saw that he would be fit enough to return home in a day, they left him alone to rest. Now however… there was always someone there. His parents, friends, doctors, and a slew of media people with their stupid cameras and notepads in hand. How was he to rest with any of that?
Of course it was hard to do so with his body the way it was. Since he had been brought into the hospital the night before he had been examined and poked and prodded and looked over countless times. It was all to be expected in his mind but it didn't make any of this easier. The worst of it happened early that morning. The doctor in charge of his care, Dr. Captole, had walked into his room along with another doctor when the sun had barely come up. His parents had fallen asleep at their son's bedside but awoke when the man stepped in with another doctor.
"Is something wrong?" Sharon looked at the man with wide worried eyes.
"I just wanted to ask Stan here a few questions. Is that okay with you Stan?"
Stan sighed and shrugged a shoulder; he could still barely talk so didn't see the point. Dr. Captole seemed to take this as a yes and nodded to the kind older lady doctor next to him. "Stan, I'd like to introduce you to Dr. Whitman. She's a special kind of doctor. I'll allow her to take over."
Sharon and Randy looked nervous as they watched the woman approach their son, a faceless doll in her hand. She took out a hand to shake the boy's limp hand. "Good morning Stan. My name is Dr. Trish Whitman but you can call me Trish if you'd like. I wanted to ask you a few questions concerning Perry Ryland. Now these questions might be of a tough subject matter so would you feel more comfortable if Mom and Dad were here with you?"
At this Randy got to his feet. "Now hold up a second, are you suggesting that"-
"Please, it is mandatory we find out everything that happened during the 43 days that he was held captive," Dr. Captole held out a hand.
"But, but he wasn't… right?" Sharon squeezed her son's hand.
"We have to ask," Dr. Whitman spoke again.
Stan hadn't said anything throughout this. Again, the doctors took this as a sign that he didn't mind if his parents were there.
"Now Stanley, during your time with Mr. Ryland, did he ever touch you in any way that made you uncomfortable?"
Stan's eyes burned at the mere thought such a thing took place. "No," he rasped.
"Okay. Did he ever touch you here? Or here?" she gestured to a few spots on the doll.
Stan's chest burned as he forcefully spat out, "No."
"Okay. Did Mr. Ryland ever treat you differently than the other children in class? Perhaps he gave you special attention, or maybe gave you a gift?"
"No."
Dr. Whitman nodded. "It's okay to feel scared Stan. If Mr. Ryland told you not to tell anyone a secret he told you then"-
"N-nothing. Like that happened," Stan barely got out. This caused the machines that were monitoring his vitals to start beeping. Sharon and Randy grew upset at this and Dr. Captole, alarmed, signaled the interview was now over.
This happened four hours ago. Stan knew the doctors had every right to ask such things but it still made him angry they had asked those questions. He was telling the truth, nothing like that took place in the basement. But as he had just been rescued not even a day ago, people were still trying to piece together just what went on under the eye of Perry Ryland. Mr. Ryland wasn't saying much of anything at the police station and Stan could hardly talk without feeling as if his lungs were about to burst. Again, he didn't feel up to going into detail about things either way. It not as if he felt ashamed about what happened, he just didn't want to think about the dark thoughts he had had the past month and a half. He finally had his mother and father there by his side and that's all he needed at the moment. Well, that and a bath and his teeth to be looked at…
All kinds of doctors had been coming into Stan's hospital room since he arrived last night. Someone to look at his overall body. His state of mind. His lungs. His kidneys. His injured ankle and other limbs. He had gone through multiple x-rays, blood draws, CT scans, and ultrasounds already. Again, Stan knew it was necessary but he still felt so dirty and had yet to be bathed. He was also a little surprised no one had come in to look at his teeth since he complained they bothered him. Then again he would only want Dr. Steels to be the one to do that anyway. The one person outside family and friends he trusted most. Kyle knew this naturally, but Stan never told anyone else. Who was really 'close' with their fucking dentist? Maybe if he hadn't seen him at Buffalo Wild Wings a few times now and hung around with his dad to watch the Broncos or the Rockies play, then play catch afterwards…
Currently the on-call doctor was busy going over Stan's injured left ankle with him and his mother. He had with him a laptop where the images were uploaded. One of the first things they did when he was admitted was take in his weight- he was now at 59.10. He had lost thirteen pounds since his kidnapping. He had also been diagnosed with chronic dehydration and acute kidney failure. He was on multiple medications for his ailments at the moment. He wondered what else this doctor was going to add to the list.
The blond-haired doctor went to go over the file at hand. "Good news is Stanley did not break any bones from his injury. Which is remarkable considering he was chained up for as long as he was with a deteriorating body. However it will take some time before he gains full usage of his left leg. I will place his joint in a soft cast for two weeks to give it time to heal. Afterwards I would like him to start on physical therapy. And not only for his ankle, he will need to start on gaining back his strength as soon as possible," the doctor explained. Even though Stan never told anyone he had been chained up the doctors put two-and-two together when looking over at the video surveillance of him that was sent to his parents.
Sharon nodded, rubbing tired eyes. "Yes, okay. Thank-you doctor."
Once the man left Sharon turned to face her son. She walked over and took hold of his hand and sat there, rubbing it for a few minutes. Stan closed his eyes and let out a low hum, feeling happy and content in the presence of his mother finally. He knew he must have worried her to no end and he hated knowing that. He caused his mother to worry about him often and for many of those incidents he knew what kind of trouble he would be in when she finally found out. This time however he was doing everything right and still ended up paying the price. He just had a knack of attracting trouble no matter what. Kind of like Harry Potter. The thought made him grin slightly. Sharon took notice.
"What's on your mind sweetheart?"
"Nothing. Just…thinking."
Sharon squeezed his hand.
"Mom… when d'you think I can…have a bath?"
"Hmm, I'm not too sure honey. I know there are still a lot of things the doctors want to look over. Proper diagnoses that need to be made. I'm sure once everything is certain then you can have your bath."
Stan groaned. "I want one now. I know I…stink."
Sharon smiled sadly. "Soon baby. You're still too weak to bathe yourself. I'm sure a nurse will be the one who comes in to give you a sponge bath."
Stan groaned again at the thought of some ugly old bitch of a nurse coming in and stripping him down to bathe him. It happened all the times in movies and TV shows. Maybe he'd ask his mom to just do it for him which would also be embarrassing. Sure she was his mother and had seen him naked thousands of times but not really at the age of ten…
Sharon squeezed his bony hand again. "Stanley sweetie, I think your sister would like to see you soon."
Stan's eyes snapped wide open now. "What?"
"She's been worried too. I think she would like to see you."
Stan glared as his eyes slowly traveled down to his other hand. "She doesn't care."
"Stan please. I know she'd like to visit you. I know she's been worried about you."
Tears pricked Stan's eyes; all he could think about in relation with his sister were the horrible memories he had of her growing up. How she purposefully gave him paper cuts. Tried drowning him. Tormented him about his first dental filling. Horrible memories he was forced to relive while in Mr. Ryland's 'care.' Stan reached an unsteady hand to wipe at his eyes.
"Not now Mom. But I want to see…Kyle again."
Sharon sighed but nodded. "Let me call up Sheila and see if he'd like to visit."
Sharon stepped out of the room to spot her daughter waiting in the waiting lounge of the Pediatric Intensive Care Ward. Shelley got to her feet but Sharon held up a hand.
"Sorry honey but he doesn't want to see you yet."
Shelley opened her mouth in protest. "What the hell? That stupid turd. Doesn't he know that I"-
"I know you've been a big help throughout all of this Shelley. But your little brother just went through something pretty traumatic and nobody even really knows what that was yet. Just give him some time; I'm sure he'll warm up to seeing you soon."
Shelley tried not to look too bothered by this as she watched her mother go off to give Mrs. Broflovski a call. Shelley went over to the cafeteria to grab a bite to eat, knowing there was nothing she could do but wait around at this point.
It was around dinner time when Kyle stopped by. Kyle could only shake his head as he opened the door to the recovery room and looked at his best friend. Lying in a hospital bed hooked up to IV bags and various machines and such. Many balloons and gifts surrounded his bedside already. Once everyone found out that a little boy had been saved from a monster of a man there seemed to be no end to the well wishes from said public. And the one that Kyle had with him in his hand right now was the most important. At least, that's what he had been told. This was exactly the image Kyle had had in his mind for weeks now. Yes Stan was very weak and it would take a long time until he would be back to his old self but this was the beginning of all that. It meant things could finally reset and he didn't have to worry as much anymore.
Kyle gave a small cough next to his friend, who appeared to be asleep. Stan cracked an eye open.
"Hey dude. Is this a bad time?" Kyle asked.
Stan shook his head 'no'. He slowly reached over and fumbled with the bed remote on his right side. Kyle rushed over to help him recline the bed to a sitting position.
"Hey Stan. Had to see you again today before visiting hours are up. How are you?"
Stan shrugged. "I'll be okay. E-eventually. Thanks for coming." He looked at the gift that was in his friend's hands. "What's that?"
"Oh this? Well actually it's- well some people got together to pitch in for it. Not really sure who but word got out that you'd like this. Before I walked in here some news reporter handed it to me and told me it's from a few locals. Um, if you wanted to open it…" Kyle set the gift onto Stan's hospital bed.
Stan inspected the box that was wrapped in wrapping paper decorated with footballs. His fingers trembled as he tried to tear off the ends of the package where it was tapped up. He struggled as the gesture bothered his right hand where a clasp was wrapped around his pointer finger, monitoring his vitals. Kyle thankfully went over to help him open the present. Stan's eyes went wide when he saw the gift staring back at him. The App-controlled Lego Batmobile. The toy that was at the very top of his wish list.
"What…? How-?"
Kyle shrugged. "I don't know Stan. But hey, this is pretty cool huh? I know you've wanted this for forever."
Stan slowly moved the box around as he inspected it. "Yeah, this is sweet. Wow. Thanks."
Kyle smiled. "This isn't from me dude. Don't worry, my gift it to get you on your feet as soon as possible. I'm going to be there to help out in every way, all right?"
Stan sighed as he set the Batmobile to his side. "Kyle… I still don't know how…you knew. There's still stuff I don't…know."
Kyle nodded slowly back as he finally took up a chair next to him. "Yeah, there's a lot I don't know either. But when you're ready to hear, I'll tell you everything. And I can only assume the same for me."
Stan nodded. "Yeah. When I have the st-strength." He frowned as he looked out to the amber sky out his window. "What day is it?"
Kyle smiled and took down the calendar that was hanging in the hospital room. He held it up to Stan and pointed out, "It's May 11th Stan. Saturday."
Stan looked at the calendar and frowned, staring at the month. His stomach then flipped when he noticed something written down on the following date. "Aww man, tomorrow is…already M-Mother's Day?"
Kyle sighed and took the calendar away. "Yeah. Honestly I haven't given it much thought this month. Guess I should go out there and get my mom something for tomorrow."
"Damn…my mom's gonna- kill me I didn't get her something," Stan spoke, rubbing tired eyes.
"I highly doubt that dude. Just focus on getting better, okay? By the way, how's the grub?" Kyle nodded to a bag that was hanging on Stan's right side where a tube led to his stomach. He had been placed on a tube-fed diet since his organs were too weak at the moment to properly digest food.
Stan moaned out his answer. "Let's just say… I'd rather be having a cheeseburger at the m-moment," he grumbled.
Kyle laughed and it brought tears to his eyes; he had missed this. Laughing with his best friend. It felt good. The two chatted for five more minutes before Kyle decided to approach a touchy subject.
"So um, did Shelley visit you yet?"
Stan gave his friend a hard look now as he shifted in his bed. "No. I don't really feel up….to seeing her yet."
"Why not? Stan, she was actually a pretty big help during all this. I think it's important she come see you. She wants to."
"Pfff. I know how she- really feels about me." Stan's eyes burned as he said this. As did the back of his throat.
Kyle sighed and rolled his eyes. "We all know your sister is a bitch but c'mon man, she missed you. I know she did. She was really great during this fucking madness. Just- just talk to her. She… she's actually still here, hoping to see you before they boot us out at nine."
Stan's arms were crossed as he looked off to the side, mind thinking hard.
Kyle got up from his chair. "I'll go get her then, okay?"
Stan drew in a deep breath and nodded slightly. His door opened five minutes later. He didn't look to see who entered it but felt the person's presence as they stared at him from the front door. Shelley stood by the door for a couple minutes before finally speaking.
"How are you doing turd?" she asked flatly.
Stan didn't reply back. He closed his eyes as he heard her walk towards him. Memories began to flood his mind again.
"Sh-Shelley! Stop please!" his eight-year-old self pleaded as she repeatedly dunked him under water at the hotel pool during their summer vacation to Santa Barbra.
"I can do this aaallll day," Shelley sneered as once again she forced him under the water.
"Sh-heaauuggglll…" he gurgled as he went under and his mouth filled with water and his lungs cried in protest.
"Stan!"
"Huh?" ten-year-old Stan snapped back to the present world to see his sister standing to his left.
"I asked how you were doing like, ten times."
"Oh." He still didn't answer but his non-answer seemed good enough for her. Again, neither brother nor sister spoke for another full minute. Finally Stan had a question for her. "How's… Lupin?"
Shelley rolled her eyes. "He's fine."
"What did M-Mom and Dad do"-
"They found a cage for him. You know that old one that was in the basement? The one that had that hamster you had when you were five? Well your stupid rat is in your room now in that cage and is fine."
Stan frowned. "He's a mouse."
"Same thing."
Stan looked down at his hands as she spoke. When he was being prepped for an IV drip in the ambulance last night the paramedic was given a fright when he saw a rodent crawl out of his pants pocket. Lupin had stayed by Stan's side the entire time he was being held captive by Mr. Ryland. Sure he went about to look for food during nights when Mr. Ryland had gone off to sleep but the majority of the time he stayed next to the boy, crawling into his pocket whenever it sensed trouble. Stan had explained to his startled father and the paramedic the mouse was his friend and to not kill it. Thankfully Randy seemed to understand this and after the paramedic handed over a small empty box to the father did Randy promise his son he would take the mouse back home and that it would be safe.
Stan sighed deeply as tears stung his eyes, so many things on his mind. He really didn't want to fall apart in front of his sister, not after he was forced to relive so many awful memories with her. Shelley took notice of his tears.
"What is it?" she asked in an odd, almost concerned voice.
Stan sniffed and shook his head. "Can't believe it. T-tomorrow's Mother's Day and I didn't get Mom any-anything."
Shelley grinned back at him. "Stupid turd, I don't think she'll care. After all she told me having you back was all she wanted."
"Still… I want to get her something. But I'm stuck in here t-till who-knows-when."
"Stan, it doesn't matter."
"Yes it does, it's our mother you bitch," Stan glared back at his sister, speaking one of the first full sentences with much clarity.
Shelley rolled her eyes and sighed heavily. "Okay, fine. If it really means that much to you I'll let you sign the card I got for her okay?"
Yet again the siblings left the room in silence. Stan wanted to say many things but didn't know what. At the same time Shelley herself had some things she wanted to ask but didn't know how to go about it. But since she was the older of the two and her brother had just gone through…something… she felt it was her duty to speak up first.
"Why didn't you want me to visit you turd-breath?"
Stan played with a loose thread on his blanket now. "You know why…" he whispered.
"C'mon Stan, let's not go there right now," Shelley said heavily.
"No we are," Stan spat. "Why didn't you call?"
"Excuse me?"
"Mom, Dad, Kyle… our gr-grandmas all called. All the time. I got o-one lousy phone call from you," Stan rasped last few words and held up his shaky left pointer finger.
Shelley's arms were crossed now. "What the hell are you talking about you stupid turd?"
"You only called once. And pr-probably because Mom and Dad forced you to."
Shelley dropped her arms to her side again and sighed. "Stan, listen, that doesn't mean that"-
"It-means- everything," Stan said in a dramatic tone before letting out a deep sharp breath as he sank into his pillows.
"Stan…"
"Admit it. You were f-forced to. Now that I'm back you're pissed. Sorry for sp-spoiling your plans," Stan struggled on as tears burned his eyes.
Shelley glared at him. "You're wrong you idiot. I'm your sister; I was upset you were missing."
Stan just looked down as the tears enveloped his vision. He sniffed and rubbed his nose as memories flooded his mind.
Shelley sighed impatiently. "I did miss you in case you haven't noticed. It's not as if I wanted you to die while you were gone. Oh come on!" she snapped when he let out a soft sob. "Stupid idiot turd-brain, you're my brother. My little brother which means that yes I will always think you're an annoying fucking waste of space but it also means I care about you. About what happens to you. If for one moment you thought I was glad you were gone all this time then it's you who needs to do some re-thinking and reflecting and shit," Shelley pressed a finger hard into his temple.
Rethinking and reflecting. All he had been doing the past several weeks. Stan sniffed again before he felt a tear escape his eye. He pressed his eyes hard together and a hand to them, trying to stop more from coming. All it took was one hand on his shoulder from his sister for that plan to crumble and soon he was crying. Shelley didn't say anything, nor did she go over to hug him. She just left her hand on his shoulder as he let go of some of whatever horrors that were taking over his mind.
"What's wrong Stan?"
Stan reached over to the bedside table where tissue sat and blew his nose. "Sorry, just thinking. Nobody knows…"
"Knows what?"
Stan drew in a shaking breath but slowly pulled up the sleeve of his hospital gown on his left side. A large purple bruise sat on his shoulder.
"What the hell happened there?" Shelley pointed out.
"I haven't told an-anyone yet. No one really knows what he did to me. Yes he- he starved me. C-chained me up. But he also…" he swallowed the lemon-sized ball in his throat with difficultly.
Shelley was quick to her feet. "That fucker didn't"-
"No. I already had to- to tell that to another doctor this m-morning." Stan closed his eyes and drew in a breath. "He sort of forced me to- to see things. Relive things. Some shot he gave me. N-numerous times."
Shelley looked a little confused as her brother spoke. "I don't understand."
"I know, it's odd. But ev-everyone keeps asking about this b-bruise. Mom and Dad. Doctors. But I'm not r-ready to tell them. Not now."
Shelley gave him a weary look. "What about"-
"Not even Kyle," Stan spoke across her. Shelley's eyes widened for a second before she looked off to the side. "Promise me you won't t-tell them yet. Please."
Shelley looked down at his helpless, dirty, pale face. And nodded. "Yeah, sure thing turd."
May 12th
Stan awoke in a frustrated mood that next morning. It had only been a day and a half and he was ready to go home but he was nowhere close to reaching that goal in his current state. He couldn't eat, walk, move, or have normal bodily functions yet and it was driving him crazy. Any other time he had been confined to a hospital bed he was able to do something. He was able to get up and about on his own two feet, or at least help himself into and out of a wheelchair. He could eat normal food or talk normally. But this was the first time he really was almost completely helpless and he did not like that. And the two things he had asked for way back on the ambulance ride to the hospital after he was rescued still had not happened and he was feeling very fed up at this point. He currently had found himself crying in front of the nurse who had come in to give him his first tube feed of the day. The nurse, alarmed, peaked out of the room and then returned.
"Stan sweetie, Mommy and Daddy just arrived. Do you want to see them?" asked the young nurse.
Stan nodded and seconds later he felt his mother swoop down at his side and place her hands on his shoulders.
"Baby, what's wrong?"
"N-nobody's listening to me! I just want a fucking bath but no one will let me have one," Stan moaned.
Sharon and Randy shared a look.
"Oh, well um, it's too risky right now son," Randy spoke. "You're hooked up to so much; we don't want to unhook you from something."
"I feel like complete crap. I just want to bathe and brush my fucking teeth. Please, can't you do something?" Stan looked to his parents.
His parents ended up talking to his primary care doctor during his duration at the hospital and he agreed that Stan could have a bath- taken care of a very skilled nurse to reduce the risk of messing up the IV lines and such he was currently hooked up to. So later that morning Stan was taken out of his hospital room and down to a special area where patients could be bathed if they needed assistance. Stan ended up being bathed while sitting up in a chair in a shower-like stall and in a way one might bathe a baby. The kind nurse went over his body with a soapy rag very gently as well as his hair. The entire process lasted for almost an hour but Stan was very grateful for it and in a much better mood once it was done. After, he was taken back to his room where his mom helped him brush his teeth. They still did feel gross and grimy but at least his breath didn't stink quite as much.
As of now he was resting in bed, his family sitting in the room with him watching the TV.
"….there has been little change in the Stanley Marsh case," spoke a TV reporter on the news.
"Randy, not now," Sharon said in an exhausted tone.
"I just want to see what they say," Randy nodded to the television.
"The child was safety recovered nearly two days ago yet no one knows for certain just what went down in both Perry Ryland and Darryl Ryland's homes. If you are unaware, little Stanley was recovered from Ryland Sr.'s home during a nearly four-hour long standoff. There is speculation however that Perry starved the boy and chained him to a bed. For more information on the case I will bring you to our field reporter, Nikki Glamner. Nikki?"
The face of a pretty Hispanic woman appeared on the screen. "Thank-you John. I am standing just outside the Park County Medical Offices where I have just received some new information and possible motives behind Perry Ryland's actions."
Stan couldn't fake it anymore, he opened his eyes. "Turn it up," he whispered.
Shelley, who was sitting at his left, looked over. "Why?"
"Please." Randy did so.
"While there is of course doctor- patient confidentiality, we have been told by Perry's wife, Charlene, that her husband had been seeing a therapist for the past several months. It is unknown what the discussions entailed however Charlene did tell us that after Perry's father passed away earlier this year he signed up for therapy. Since Charlene is a licensed physiatrist, she knew it was a healthy resource for her grieving husband. And we now know as well that Darryl Ryland actually passed away January 14th, his son, Perry's, birthday."
Stan's eyes lit up at this. "Damn…"
"Looking deeper into the Ryland family our media sources discovered that Perry Ryland's mother passed away in 1988 from a car accident. His own brother, Toby, was kidnapped in 1985 and to this day the boy's body has not been recovered or his whereabouts known. It is safe to assume that those events led to his actions two days ago," Nikki shook her head, feigning sadness.
Stan sighed, looking out his window. "Turn it off, please." Once he heard the television click off he looked back at his parents. He rubbed his tired eyes. "Mom, I'm really sorry."
Sharon looked alarmed. "Sorry about what sweetie?"
"This. All this. It's a pretty shitty way to spend Mother's Day."
Sharon smiled sadly and took hold of his hand. "It's fine Stan. You're here and alive. That's all I could have asked for."
"I guess… I still feel bad though."
"Shelley made me a good breakfast this morning and she get me a book I've had my eyes on for a while. And once you're all better, we'll go out to eat and celebrate, okay?"
"Actually… Mom, Stan does have something for you," Shelley suddenly said and got to her feet.
Stan and Sharon both looked confused as they watched Shelley go over to the table at the far end where dozens of gifts sat from all of Stan's family, friends, and supporters. Since he hadn't opened any of them yet Stan found that the gift his sister reached for blended in with the pile, as if it had always been there. Shelley handed the gift to her brother. Still confused, Stan shrugged and passed it along to his mother.
"Um, here you go Mom. Happy Mother's Day…"
Sharon smiled as she pulled out the tissue paper in the white and purple flower bag. Inside was a mug with the words Mama Llama written on it as well as a picture of a smiling colorful llama and her calf. Inside the mug was a bag of coffee with the words 'Nutz over Chocolate' stamped across it as well as a bag of various chocolates from Sweet Sensations Candy Shop in the mall.
"Oh Stanley, my favorite flavor of coffee from The Jolly Coffee Bean! And chocolates. And this mug is darling. Thank-you so much sweetheart," tears filled Sharon's eyes as she bent down to give her son a wet kiss.
Stan smiled back meekly. "Umm, sure. No problem. Happy you like it then."
When Sharon's back was turned to show her husband the gift, Stan gave Shelley a relived look.
"Thank-you," Stan mouthed to her.
Shelley only smiled back before making the suggestion that they leave him so he could rest some more. He fell into a restful enough nap once his family left.
May 14th
Kyle was very excited once the bell rang, signaling the end of school for that day. There was only one thing on his mind, the same thing every day since May 10th. Visit his best friend in the hospital. There was no ignoring the bright smile on his face as he walked down the halls after class.
"Say Kyle, visitin' Stan again today?" Butters asked, joining him.
"Of course. I do so every day."
"Pfff, fags," Cartman retorted.
"Oh just shut it you fat fuck. You're happy Stan's back and alive and you know it."
"Is he getting better?" Token asked, also following after the boys.
"Yeah. Little by little. Um, listen, I'm sure you're all concerned and I know he'd really like to see all of you but I think it's best if just I saw him today. He was kind of, well… he kind of was dealing with some things yesterday so I'm not sure it's best you came to visit right now. But I know he did like the huge card everyone in class signed for him. I'll tell you the latest later, okay?" Kyle tried shaking his friends off and successfully was able to hop into his mother's car where she thankfully drove him to the hospital. As soon as Sheila drove to the front entrance of the hospital Kyle sighed deeply at the sight waiting him: dozens of people with their cameras, phones, and notepads out, ready to strike as soon as he stepped out. Well, this wouldn't be the first time. He promised his mother he would call her later to be picked up before he stepped out the car- and indeed people came running towards him, all talking at once as their cameras went off.
"Kyle! Are you about to visit Stan today?" asked one reported.
"Obviously," Kyle rolled his eyes.
"Kyle, when is Stan set to be released?"
"Is Stan walking yet?"
"Do you regret ever talking to Mr. Ryland?"
"How did Perry Ryland treat you at the Day Camp?"
"Is it true that Perry Ryland was using your friend as a replacement for his own kidnapped brother?"
"Are you going out with your best friend's sister?"
"Stop! All of you stop hounding me and leave me alone!" Kyle raged.
"Do you know if Stan liked the Transformers set I sent him?" asked one reporter raising his hand in the air that held a pen.
"What? Who the fuck even are you? All of you, I'm done talking, now leave!"
Thankfully security guards finally stepped in and allowed Kyle to walk into the hospital entrance without being followed. He had to sign in at the Pediatric Intensive Care Ward before he was allowed to visit Stan. Once he did he quickly hurried to his room, knocked on the door, and then went inside. Stan was currently working with a physical therapist in doing simple movements with his fingers and hands.
"Oh um, I can always come back," Kyle thumbed behind him.
The therapist, Dr. Yu, smiled at both boys. "Actually I was just finishing up. You did very well today Stanley. I will see you tomorrow, okay?"
Kyle watched as the pretty Asian lady left the room. He smiled at his friend. "Dude, I didn't know you were starting therapy already."
Stan shrugged as he adjusted himself in the wheelchair he was sitting in. "Hardly. Just trying to get a feel as to what I can and can't do. So far the list of can't is a lot longer."
"Oh. Well knowing you it's only going to take a few days before you're back on your feet anyway."
Stan grinned meekly. "I wish. It's going to take a lot longer than that. According to my doctors walking is going to be the last thing I relearn. I just hope I'm out of this wheelchair by the time summer comes."
"Yeah, that would really blow if you're in it any longer than that. Still, it's really cool they're starting you on therapy dude."
"My doctor wants me to wait but I can't. I'm feeling restless, fed-up, and pissed off," Stan grumbled.
Kyle looked down for a second before looking up. "Stan, you know we went over this yesterday. What happened to you- whatever happened to you- sucked. I can't imagine not being able to eat, sleep, walk, or poop normally right now… but it's not good to rush into things. You still have a lot of healing to do. And not just physically."
Stan stared down at his hands with a subdued expression. "I'll be fine," he said shortly.
Kyle rolled his eyes at the usual stubbornness from his best friend. "Think that all you want but you went through something pretty horrible Stan. You will need to talk about it eventually. You will have to tell us what happened. You will have to explain what the hell is up with that weird bruise on your shoulder."
Stan instinctively reached a hand to his shoulder.
"Things will reset yet again, I promise you. But you have to heal first. And soon enough Mr. Ryland will go on trial and will be sentenced. The police have already found out some things at his house as well as his father's house. I don't know what but I'm sure it will help sentence him to an eternity behind bars. But you will be expected to give your word as to what happened to an attorney. You know that right?"
Tears burned Stan's eyes and he hastily wiped them away. "I just want to go back home and forget this shit already."
Kyle gave him a sincere look. "It's not going to be that easy Stan."
Stan sniffed again and before he knew it, was crying. Kyle hurried over and pushed his face into his chest, arm around his back as tears burned his own eyes. The two stayed like this for the next five minutes before a knock at the door broke them apart. Curious, Kyle went to answer it. On the other side of the door were two slightly older boys, one with wavy black hair, the other with short brown hair. The boys looked slightly familiar but Kyle couldn't place from where.
"Hey. Um, we were just wondering if it's okay if we spoke to you and Stan?" asked the first boy.
"Both of us? Um, okay…" Kyle stepped back and allowed the kids in.
"I'm Matt Learner and this is Aiden Pierceton," the first boy introduced. "We go to the R.A. Milnetz Day Camp with you Kyle."
Kyle's eyes widened at the mention. "Hey, you do huh? I knew you looked familiar."
"Yeah well, Matt and I wanted to give you and Stan something. It's been bugging both of us for a while now," Aiden spoke.
"You remember that Best Friends Day that took place a few weeks ago?" Matt asked.
Kyle frowned. "Vaguely."
"Do you remember the Best Friends Quiz we all did?"
Stan's ears lit up at this and he motioned for Kyle to help wheel him close to the boys. "That- I- I graded that." The three boys looked at him. "Yeah, I forgot exactly what happened. But Mr. Ryland gave me a quiz to grade. The Ultimate Best Friend Quiz. Said- said that you filled it out at camp…"
Kyle's heart leapt to his throat now. "No way dude…"
Stan shrugged. "I'm sure he threw it out after I graded it."
"You graded it?"
"He forced me to!" Stan's eyes darted to the older boys who were looking at him confused and even a little sad. "I spent forever grading it," he added softly. Kyle looked at him, expressionless. "You got a 49 out of 50 on it…" Stan mumbled.
Kyle beamed now.
Matt Learner coughed. "Yes, this is what Aiden and I were getting at. It didn't feel right, winning the prize after everything that has happened. And clearly you and Stan are better BFFs than we are," he motioned to Aiden. "So we both decided that you two are much more deserving of this." The curly-haired boy handed over two tickets to Kyle.
Kyle frowned as he looked down at his hand then back up. "Dude, we can't take this."
Aiden shrugged. "We know it is tainted because that bastard Mr. Ryland set this all up but still… we think you and Stan should get the prize. It would make us happy if you went instead of us."
"What is it?" Stan asked, trying to peer over his friend's arm.
"It's two tickets for the World Candy Convention in Denver," Aiden answered.
Stan's eyes lit up. "You mean the one happening on June 24th?!"
Matt and Aiden smiled back.
"Yeah dude, the same one."
"You guys, we can't take this," Kyle was saying.
"Dude, Kyle, it's the World Candy Convention! The last time it came to Colorado was in 1998! We have to go!" Stan almost begged.
"You guys have fun. Oh and Stan, hope you feel better soon dude," Matt spoke.
Stan smiled toothily back. "Thanks a lot you guys."
With that, the two eleven-year-olds walked out of the hospital room. Stan grabbed the tickets out of Kyle's hand first thing. "Wow, the World Candy Convention. And we both get to go! Haa, man, Cartman is going to be sooo jealous."
Kyle looked back to his friend. "You really don't mind going knowing that monster wanted us to win in the first place?"
"Does that really matter? Kyle, it's the World Candy Convention. Candy companies from all over the world will be there selling thousands of different things and we get to sample it all. It's every kid's dream."
Kyle shrugged but smiled as he took back the tickets. "Okay, we'll go. I'll hold onto them until then. Who knows when you're actually going to be released?"
At this Stan sighed heavily and became interested in his right hand. "If I'll even get to go…"
"What? Of course you will dude. You'll be out of here by then."
"Yeah but who knows how long I'll still be on this stupid thing," Stan spat, lifting up his hospital gown to the tubing sticking out of his stomach.
"Right," Kyle looked down.
"And will I still be in a wheelchair? I'll look like such an idiot if you have to wheel me around everywhere in such a crowded area. Not to mention my teeth still hurt and feel gross. What if once I finally get to go to the dentist, he tells me he has to do a ton of shit to me? I won't be able to enjoy any candy at all. I'll be eating through a fucking straw," Stan grumbled.
Kyle shook his head and chuckled. "I really don't think things will be that bad Stan. Yes your breath still stinks a bit but you really don't look too bad. And besides, I thought you liked your dentist? He's really into sports right? You did tell me before that he's not 'just another asshole in this town.'"
Stan glanced up, raising a brow. He cocked his head to the side. "Dude, the quiz you answered about me… I really didn't know you knew that much about me. Especially that."
Kyle lightly slugged his shoulder. "We're SBFs dude." Stan's eyes suddenly filled with tears. Kyle frowned. "What's wrong Stan?"
Stan drew in a breath, rubbing his left hand that held three IV lines. "I was wrong. Just now. I said you got 49 out of 50 questions right on the quiz. But I was wrong. You actually got 50 out of 50."
Kyle bit his lip. "What are you saying? What did I get wrong that you changed?"
Stan took his time answering. "You said that I belonged in Gryffindor House from Harry Potter. At first I thought you were wrong and I was kind of upset you placed me there. But- well… I really think I belong there now."
Kyle looked relieved and patted his back. "Dude, Stan, I wouldn't lie to you about that. You are a Gryffindor. Perhaps with a touch of Hufflepuff."
"Hey!" Stan playfully tried pushing him away. "Thanks dude."
"Anytime Stan."
May 23rd
Stan was feeling very grateful overall, he had finally been released from the hospital two days ago after Dr. Captole examined him and announced that his kidneys were finally functioning well enough and he was able to have normal-enough bowel movements again, yet he was still hooked up to the feeding tube. Since he was still too weak to get in and out of his wheelchair on his own, he had to have someone help him to the toilet whenever he had to go. It was better than the alternative- diapers. He refused to go down that road. His parents as well as Shelley had to learn how to give him proper feedings through the tube he was hooked up to as well, which made the family apprehensive at such a daunting task. Stan also had to take three different medications daily for his kidneys and overall health. To top it off, he had been assigned a physical therapist who would be helping him with various exercises at home five days a week. It seemed a little excessive for Randy and Sharon but Stan was determined to get his strength and normal abilities back. Plus their health insurance provided him with a great therapist so there wasn't any reason to complain in the end.
It was a great homecoming for Stan yet he still felt weirded out by it all. His mother had wanted to set up a blow-up mattress on his bedroom floor so he didn't have to risk rolling out of bed but Stan didn't find that necessary since he couldn't move around like that at the moment anyway. Plus he carried the usual sick bell with him everywhere he went. His mother normally gave it to him whenever he was sick in bed but it was now something to be used for every little thing. He had to use the toilet. Needed to get up from the toilet. Wanted to go downstairs. Upstairs. Couldn't reach something on the floor… Add onto the fact that even though he had been released from the hospital he was still too sick to go back to school and so Kyle would come over each day to give him homework as well as catch him up on lessons that he had missed.
And then there was the press. People were constantly camped out around the Marsh house, hopeful that someone inside would give out an interview. Tabloids and rumors of all sorts were being tossed around and Stan was getting increasingly annoyed. He so badly wanted to just forget about what he went through but every part of his life was still a painful reminder that it wouldn't be that easy. After his parents signed his release forms they were told it would be best for their son if he began to see a therapist of his own to help talk him through the 'trauma' he went through while locked up in Mr. Ryland's basement. Stan didn't think he needed one; he'd get through this shit on his own. Even though no one was giving him that chance he did not want to talk about this to anyone. He still hadn't told anyone else about the weird dreams and nightmares he was forced to relive. But he needed to and soon- the lawyer that would be representing him once Mr. Ryland went on trial told him he had to.
At the moment Stan was currently laying in his bed rolling a baseball in his fingers, a look of deep concentration on his face. He heard a knock on his door.
"Come in!" he called.
The door opened and Kyle walked in.
"Hey dude. Came by for your daily school report." He then turned to Stan's desk. "Hey Lupin," he greeted the mouse that was currently taking a drink from his hanging water bottle in his cage. He was still very curious as to why Stan named his mouse Lupin. The last thing he knew Stan hadn't read the Harry Potter books nor seen any of the movies. Stan told him he would explain his mouse friend sometime soon, but as with almost everything else, not just yet.
Kyle took notice of what his friend was doing. "Hey, look at that dude; you're getting really good at transferring things hand-to-hand. Good for you."
Stan shrugged. "My physical therapist, Justine, had me practice with a squishy ball earlier. I decided to just go with a baseball instead. I need to work on my fine and gross motor skills and I thought gripping a baseball would be good." Stan adjusted his fingers slightly and showed the ball to Kyle.
"Wow, that looks like a nice curveball right there," Kyle noted.
Stan rolled his eyes. "It's a changeup you dumbass."
Kyle rolled his eyes. "Same thing. Anyway, let me fill you in for today. Well as far as actual lessons go Mr. Garrison had us begin a new story in our Ready Adventures textbook. Some lame story about this kid wishing it would rain in his town since he lives in the desert. We have to do the usual answer-the-questions thing by Thursday. Math involved some more fractions. In terms of the social scene, everyone keeps asking about you of course. Kenny was caught by the playground monitor looking up Ellie Croft's dress so had to go to the principal's office. Even though you two aren't dating Wendy still wishes you a speedy recovery and misses you. Oh, it was actually kind of cool. Just now when we got off the bus, a reporter was following us up the street. Cartman finally lost it and told the guy to 'beat it. He doesn't want to talk you fucking asshole!' So yeah, there's that," the boy in the green hat finished slightly amused.
Stan nodded and went back to rolling his baseball around in his hands again.
"Do you…want help sitting up? Do you want to sit in your wheelchair or desk chair?" Kyle frowned.
"No," Stan said shortly.
Kyle continued to watch him. "Stan, I don't know if you've heard. Apparently there's some people who are starting to say that they want to give exclusive interviews. People that worked with Mr. Ryland or his wife. Already there's a weird new case that opened in town. Apparently an undisclosed amount of a trial drug has been reported stolen from Park County's Pharmaceutical Lab. Some people are saying it's connected to your thing."
Stan took this time to close his eyes for a few seconds, as if to regain his composure.
"Stan…what did happen to you? Why was your arm so bruised when you were first brought in to the hospital?" Kyle asked carefully.
Stan opened his eyes again and began gripping his baseball again. "Not right now Kyle."
"You do know you'll have to tell someone. And soon. Otherwise Mr. Ryland might not be given as long a sentence."
Stan said nothing back but he did have a slight frown on his face now.
"Just saying… your arm was bruised in a way that might happen if you were injected with something. Take into account some trial drug goes missing at the same time… it just makes sense, you know?"
Stan still didn't speak.
Kyle sighed as he neared the front door now. "I know you went through something really horrible Stan. It still eats me up inside that my best friend was forced to live in a dark basement for over a month. That I couldn't help you out earlier. I- I spent many sleepless nights trying to figure this shit out. We all did. And now you're back! And it's great. But you won't tell us anything. I wish you trusted us. Your parents. Your sister. Doctors. Me. I know you are very frustrated that you aren't up running around eating chicken wings and soda yet. That must really suck. You're still in physical and emotional pain. I get that. But hopefully you find some of that Gryffindor courage inside you to move forward. Once you do, you'll feel ten times better." With that, he shut the door behind him.
Stan was now gripping his baseball harder than he had been able to the past week. He let it drop to the floor as emotions crashed over him in waves. He turned to his side and broke down, the weight of Kyle's words propelling his mind down a brand-new road. One full of love, support, and hope.
May 28th
Stan was in better spirits that Tuesday. It had now been three days since he had the feeding tube removed and it already was making the world of difference for him. Yes he was still too weak to walk but at least he could eat solids on his own now, albeit in a structured diet so he wouldn't get sick. It had been so long now since actual food touched his lips he couldn't help but tear up during his first meal of mashed potatoes, steamed carrots, and applesauce. It was all so delicious. Now that the only thing holding him back was his weakened muscles, his mother finally felt it was time to take him in to see the dentist. Stan was only too grateful. Even if he could clumsily brush his teeth on his own now, he still knew it was best to be checked out. Stan had asked his mother if there was a way she could take him in later on in the day so as to avoid all the eyes of people if he arrived in his wheelchair. Thankfully when they arrived at 4 PM that afternoon no one else was in the office.
After the initial x-rays were taken Stan sat around in the dentist chair, scrolling on his phone. When the sound of beads rustling was heard from the faux door of the room and the blond head of Dr. Steels stepped in, Stan turned his phone off. The man glanced at his wheelchair folded up in the corner and at the boy with a sad smile. He had his arms crossed for a second before going over to shake his hand.
"Hey there sport. How are you doing today?"
Stan shrugged as he shook back. "Indifferent."
Dr. Steels chuckled. "I'll give you that. You don't hear that word too often do you? It's really great to see you again Stan. I- well all of us here were really worried not long ago. We're really happy that you're back and, well... are indifferent."
Stan couldn't help but smile back. "Everyone keeps telling me as long as I tell the truth about the shit that happened then I can finally push this all behind me."
Dr. Steels nodded. "Well I hope you get to do that soon then."
Stan frowned as he stared at his folded hands now. "People keep saying I'm a hero. It's annoying. I didn't do anything but survive."
The dentist sighed and shrugged. "Well everyone has a different idea of what the term 'hero' means Stan. But if I may add in my two cents: any child that can go through a kidnapping and starvation and Lord knows what else- and come back as accepting and unfazed by those things as you are, is a hero in my book. You know it's okay to take some credit in your own survival Stan."
Stan sighed and pinched his nose for a second. "Yeah, I know. I'm trying to both work through things as well as forget them. But thanks dude."
Dr. Steels nodded and patted the headrest of the chair the boy was sitting in. "Well then son, it seems as if you hadn't been able to brush your teeth for over a month hmm? I'm sure you're feeling kind of grossed out by that. Let's go see just what we've got going on here…"
Stan ended up staying in the chair for over an hour while he had a deep cleaning performed. He also had a small cavity as well but his dentist said he'd wait to fill it next week to give the boy a break. In Stan's own mind he had made up a check list of things he wanted to be done before he felt he was completely healed and ready to move on for good. The next thing he felt would probably be the toughest yet he had to do it, his future and the fate of Mr. Ryland rested on it.
June 4th
While the majority of his recovery was tough the part that Stan felt was the toughest was to occur that day. He had finally agreed to talk things over with a therapist. And since he was still under the age of eighteen he was allowed the option of having his parents in the room with him if he wanted. At first Stan was very against this but then he was struck with a thought: if his parents were present during his session with the therapist it meant he didn't have to relive what happened during his time with Mr. Ryland with them at a separate time. Add onto the fact that anything he said to the therapist today was going to be recorded and used as evidence in the case against Mr. Ryland he felt compelled to go through with this. And so Randy and Sharon drove their son out to a therapist in Middle Creek named Dr. Oles who supposedly worked really well with children. Yes there were licensed and capable therapists in the Park County Medical Offices in town but so much of his kidnapping seemed to be tied to that place that Stan wanted no part of it.
And so Stan met with the nice lady that afternoon. In Dr. Oles' office was an assortment of paper, pencils, crayons, markers, blocks, dolls, and toy cars in case he couldn't express what happened with words alone. Stan appreciated the gesture but knew it would be best to simply talk. And so he took up a seat on the comfortable couch that was in the room to tell all he could as his parents sat in chairs close to him.
"Now Stanley, did Mr. Ryland ever make you feel unwelcomed or uncomfortable before he kidnapped you?" asked Dr. Oles, concerned eyes hidden behind sharp black glasses.
Stan sighed as he rolled a baseball in his hands (he was finding this his new stress relief). "Well, I did get bad vibes from him my first tutor lesson with him."
"You did?" Randy gasped. "Why didn't you tell us?"
"I did! I told you and Mom I didn't like my first lesson with him but you just passed if off like no big deal!" Stan said wildly.
"When you say 'bad vibes' what do you mean by that?" Dr. Oles asked.
"I dunno. He looked at me a lot. I could feel him staring when I was working on math problems. Then he asked me about my dad's progress with the whole 'make-your-own-beer' contest thing one time which I found really weird." Stan shook his head slightly. "I should have said something before."
Dr. Oles pulled a strand of her curly red hair behind her ear. "Now sweetie it's not your fault what happened."
"I know but I've seen so many crazy things, have been around so many horrible people in my life already. I should be able to sniff out a monster immediately by now."
Ten minutes later the therapist asked him about the day in question that he was kidnapped. Again Stan spoke of how M. Ryland made things uncomfortable during the tutor session and how the man had him stay behind once the lesson was over for some 'extra help'. Again, tears burned his eyes as he thought back, feeling like such an idiot for not seeing the signs that this man was a threat. But at this point Mr. Ryland already had plans to use him and would have kidnapped Stan in some way if spiking his fruit punch didn't work. Time went by. Once in a while Stan had to pause for a drink of water and to compose his thoughts. He spoke of how Mr. Ryland chained him to the bed, of how he taunted him with playing voicemails left by his loved ones, have him question his own relationships with those he loved, and give odd answers to questions he pulled from a hat. Stan spoke of how Mr. Ryland gave him a meager portion of food once a week if he was lucky. That he had to use a bucket as his toilet. But the worst of it all, his dreams.
"Dreams?" Sharon frowned, looking down at her son.
Stan was now lying back in the couch in a semi-upright position. He instinctively rubbed his left shoulder even though the ugly bruise that had been there before had long disappeared.
"I- I didn't know what was going on that first time. I broke one of his rules I think. I dunno, it was a while ago. But he gave me this shot. I didn't know what it was." Stan swallowed the lump in his throat. "I was scared. This horrible man could have just given me a shot of poison, how would I have known? But then I had dreams. More like nightmares." Stan rubbed his nose and took a sip of water. "I- I was forced to relive things…"
"What kind of things son?" Randy looked at him, frowning.
Stan rubbed his shoulder again. "My worst memories. Mainly memories concerning those I love. He- he made me think- s-second guess"-
At that moment Sharon took him in her arms where he broke down. He so wished he could get over all of this, he had been through worst things before, surely! But perhaps the reason why this hurt so much was the fact that it was just him and him alone. Only he was forced to be chained to a bed and starved and drugged. Many of the other times he was in trouble he was with his friends, or things were happening around him in such a fast manner he didn't have too much time to react. But now he had been through something that weakened him physically, emotionally, and physiologically. Something that made him wonder if the people in his life actually loved him. He had nothing but time to think about everything in life up to that point. Something that despite his best efforts, he could not press 'forget and reset' on as quickly.
The session with the therapist lasted for close to three hours. Stan did have the option to spread the sessions out to one hour long ones once a week but he wanted to get everything he could out that first session. He probably would need to visit with Dr. Oles again soon, as well as meet with his attorney, but the bulk of what needed to be said was, and Stan didn't want to admit it to Kyle, but he did feel slightly better after talking. Now all that was left was to put Mr. Ryland on trial and convict him. Only after that point could Stan move on.
June 14th
It was over. All over, at least in his mind. Yet as soon as Stan stepped into the house with his parents there was a knock on the door. Stan sighed as he had just begun the process of loosening the striped tie over his neck. Thankfully his dad went over to answer it. It was a man with a briefcase.
"Hello Mr. Marsh. My name is Vince Illagio. I work for Real Time Movie Studios. May I have a word with your son?"
Randy shrugged and turned to his son who gave him a very dark look back. Randy turned back to the man.
"What the hell? No! Get the fuck off my property!" With that he slammed the door in the man's face.
"I wish they'd stop this shit already," Shelley commented as she took out the headband that was in her hair.
"Really," Stan said exasperated. "I've already said no to five other movie studios, a Netflix special, and three book deals. I'm over it."
"Well if another asshole turns up I'll take care of it," Shelley said threateningly, flexing her fist.
Stan nodded as he slowly got himself out of his wheelchair to move to the couch. He had been gaining strength back in his lower extremities although still couldn't walk properly since his left foot was wrapped in a soft cast. Since he obviously needed both feet in order to learn how to walk normally again, he was stuck in the wheelchair still. Although being his stubborn self he would limp around on his good right side even if it was slow going. He sighed as he flipped on the TV.
"Want anything?" Shelley asked.
"Maybe a sandwich. And some root beer please. Can you"-
"Add mayo and just a touch of mustard. Ham, Swiss, lettuce, just three sprigs of onion, and salt and pepper. I know," Shelley finished his thought.
Stan grinned. "Thanks dude." His sister had been pretty civil, borderline nice to him since his rescue. Maybe she wanted to prove that she did care for him and was afraid of his wellbeing when he was gone. Whatever the reason Stan welcomed the change for he knew it wouldn't last much longer. As soon as he'd be able to walk around on both feet again she'd be throwing him down the stairs again. While his sister was making his lunch and his parents were upstairs discussing things he couldn't help but reflect on the day he had had already.
It had finally happened- Mr. Ryland was to be convicted that morning. According to the attorney it wouldn't take too long. Apparently Mr. Ryland was to plead guilty and appeared remorseful while he was awaiting trial in his jail cell. And again, since he was still a minor Stan wasn't required to attend, yet he wanted to. Yes there was a chance no one would want to hear from him, nobody ever believed the words that came out of the mouth of a child but he still had to be there. Look that man in the eye as the jury found out exactly what had happened. And once it was over and he was found guilty, Stan was glad that he had gone. He had learned a lot from the trial, he almost felt bad for Mr. Ryland. Apparently the man grew up resenting father after his little brother Toby was kidnapped as a child. Shortly after the kidnapping, his mother had died. And his father made little effort to be there for his son as the years went by. He didn't put much effort into searching for his missing son nor mourn over his dead wife and all the while, he drank away his problems. And once his lousy father died due to liver problems on his son's birthday it sent Mr. Ryland over the edge.
According to Mr. Ryland, he had sought out Stan for he felt his own father resembled his. A 'useless drunk bastard' that 'didn't care about his family.' The fact that Randy still focused on his beer recipe while his own son was missing was proof. And Stan was the stand-in for his missing brother. To see how long it took before his dad did something to try and find him. All in all, Perry Ryland was angry with the world that they seemed to stop caring about his missing brother and the way to show his anger; he kidnapped the boy who he saw his younger self in.
At the end of the hearing Mr. Ryland took to the stand and apologized for his actions. Stan didn't really buy it; the man's face was relatively blank as he spoke. But it didn't matter in the end, that awful man was guilty and would be spending many years behind bars. How long? Stan didn't know, the sentencing trial would be in two weeks. And he didn't need to be there. His part was over. Stan could finally start to put this crap behind him.
June 24th
"Mom! Stop! I'll be fine," Stan protested as his mother fussed over him that morning. Kyle was looking on, an amused smile on his face.
"I just want to make sure you'll be okay. Anything can happen. I packed all you might need in this front pocket," Sharon spoke, patting the front of his blue backpack.
"I'll be fine."
Sharon frowned as she looked her son up and down before turning to her husband. "I don't know Randy, maybe he should have his wheelchair, just in case."
Randy sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know Sharon, if he says he's fine then we have to trust him."
Sharon pursed her lips in disproval. "I know, I'm just worried. It's only been a week…"
"Please Mom, let me be," Stan spoke more towards the floor than to his mother's face. "I know you're worried but I've been doing really well. Even Dr. Davies said he's really happy that I'm doing so well. Remember?"
Sharon nodded, tears in her eyes. Stan rolled his eyes but gave her a small hug.
"I will be okay today Mom. Promise. Now can I please go? Kyle's waiting."
Sharon kissed his cheek and wrapped her bathrobe close over her body. "Have a good time then boys. Don't gorge yourselves too much."
The ride to Denver took three hours. The doors opened at exactly eleven and Stan wanted to be one of the first ones there. Once they arrived at the large conference center Randy stopped the car. Stan groaned. Great, now his dad wanted to stall time too!
"Boys… just- just be careful today, okay?" Randy said, a look of concern that Stan wasn't used to.
"We know Dad," Stan said.
"Don't talk to any weird people. Don't follow them in their car or bus or jet or whatever. And Stan, take plenty of breaks. Kyle, make sure he doesn't overdo it."
"I know Mr. Marsh," Kyle was looking annoyed now too and hopped out of the car.
Stan was just about to follow suit when he turned back to his dad. At that moment he felt like he wanted to tell him so much but didn't know just how to say it.
"Dad?"
"Yes son?" Randy turned back around to the backseat to face him.
Stan looked at his hand before looking up again. "I just wanted to say… thanks. Thanks."
Randy's eyes filled with tears as if he knew the meaning behind the simple word. He nodded. "Go on you rascals. Have fun. Oh! And if they have anything with chocolate and cherries, hit your old man up!"
Stan waved a hand in goodbye and walked with Kyle to the front. Stan hurriedly took out his phone to capture a picture of the giant sign on the convention center: WORLD CANDY CONVENTION. Kyle and Stan each took a few more pictures of themselves up front before Kyle turned to his friend, the two tickets in his hand.
"Well dude? Ready?"
Stan held out a hand. "Wait!" He looked up at the blue sky with a few clouds in the distance as he stood in the warm summer sun. Felt the slightest breeze wisp over his face. His stomach rumbling with excitement for it knew it was about to be rewarded with candy. His instinctively moved his left ankle around before placing his foot back down on the concrete. He ran a hand under his trademark hat to feel his now thick, healthy black hair. He smiled and nodded.
"Ready dude!" And he hurried and raced after Kyle to the front of the line.
End.
*sniff* Another story finished. It has been wonderful to work on this. This could have been two chapters but I had it in my mind- 12 chapters for this story from the beginning. If you weren't aware, I wasn't sold on the idea of Stan being kidnapped when I was first asked on the idea but once I combined it with a drabble I had saved in my laptop for years- Stan getting tutoring for math, I knew I had something. I admit, it was tough coming up with certain details for this one so knowing this is finally complete is a good feeling. There are still some details I left out about Mr. Ryland, the trial, and what happens with Charlene. But I wanted to focus more on Stan's healing than trial stuff. If you would like to know more, send me a PM. I do have a new chapter story in the works but it might not be ready until January. In the mean time I finally can focus more energy in a couple one-shots I've had sitting around for the past few months so be on the lookout. If ya'll have any ideas do tell. You never know, I might be inspired like I was just now!
Well now it is time to bid farewell to another story, and also to another season of South Park. Please do tell me your thoughts on this chapter, and the story as a whole. They make my day. Thank-you so much.
Lots of love: Rose, December 12, 2019