This was just a really quick one shot I did well my parents were arguing... It was no where near as bad as this, but I thought the dialogue fit well with Randy and Sharon. This whole story happens around the night before they decide to move in You're Getting Older.

The soft moonlight fell on his head and the night sky as dark as his hair. With window open and door shut tightly, Stan pushed his face towards the cold air letting it blow chills through his body. It was Friday night and for once, well no this may not have been the first time, Stan wished so bad that it wasn't. That maybe, just maybe, he'd wake up tomorrow and it'd be Monday so that the boy could escape to school. But no. It was Friday and the upcoming weekend looked grim.

Stan clutched the sheets to his chest and tried to concentrate on the sound of the winter wind. He buried his tear streaked cheeks into his pillow and wished his ears would fall off, or he'd disappear forever. Something. Anything to get away from them.

"I don't fucking understand, Sharon! What do you want from me?"

"What do I want…? What do I want! What I want Randy," she practically spit his name like it was a curse word, "is for you to take responsibility for your shit and get it together!"

Screaming and arguing. That's all they practically did anymore… They always fought of course it was nature, but just recently it was like… almost every night. It wasn't fair that the black haired boy had to spend every fucking night crying like some baby with his head in a pillow praying to God they'd run outta steam so he could sleep. It wasn't fair that Stan knew that his sister Shelly was doing the same thing in the room across from him as she scribbled angsty words in that diary of hers.

"Responsibility for what! I'm the one who pays the bills around here!"

"Don't fuck with me, Randy. You have no idea how much I work. I have to clean up all of your shit, plus take care of the kids."

Oh great. Now came the part where they brought them into the argument. Stan plugged his ears and hummed quietly cursing every dirty word in the dictionary. He hated when they brought 'the kids' into the fight. It made Stan feel so… guilty. Like it was his fault all this was happening. Like somehow he could've prevented all this fighting and arguing. "Be glad they aren't hitting each other," his conscience pointed out. "Be grateful for that."

"You know we're in financial trouble, Randy, yet you don't even care!"

"I care! What do you mean I don't care!"

"You bought four coffee makers. Four fucking coffee makers!"

Stan winced. There was the other thing he hated… When his mom swore. It wasn't so bad when his dad did because, well honestly Stan was pretty used to it. His dad didn't mind curses and used them frequently, not even bothering to censor himself when it was just them two hanging out. But on the other hand, his mom used them sparingly, so Stan knew when she was really upset.

"How'd you… what… How'd you know about that…?"

"I saw the receipt in the car, Randy. You're about as subtle as a rock you know that? I mean really."

"The first three were for the guys!"

"The guys can buy their own three hundred dollar coffee machines, Randy!" Her shrill voice echoed throughout the entire house and Stan briefly wondered why the neighbors hadn't called the police yet. Yes. It had happened before. Eight times actually. Yet they continued their loud insulting fights for all the world to hear while Stan was trying to catch up on his sleep.

"Jesus Christ you're so fucking stupid!"

"Don't call me stupid, bitch!"

Stan wanted to rip his hair out, jump out the window, fly to Jupiter. He didn't care if Kyle would miss him, or if his parents would even notice. At that moment, he wanted nothing more then to get the hell out of this house as fast as possible. He pulled the pillow from his face a fresh batch of tears slid down his face. Stan's expression was one of twisted hurt as he dragged his fingers through his messy black hair. Why were they doing this!

"Gah! You are impossible!" Another shrill scream and- oh my god. Was that a crash? That sounded like a crash… Stan froze in his bed, hands clutching the pillow till his knuckles turned white. This was new.

"Oh my- Jesus Christ, Sharon!" He heard his dad shout. "Did you just throw a fucking lamp at me?" Oh no no no… This could not be happening. No way.

"I can't take this anymore, Randy! You're so irresponsible and lazy and self centered! It makes me sick!"

"Ouch mom," Stan thought to himself as he bit his lip anxiously, "way to lay it on there pretty thick." The teen did not like where this was going one bit.

"Yeah!"

"Yeah!"

"Yeah well you... your fat! Yeah I said it! Fat bitch! Always up in my business and making rules and trying to ruin my life!" His dad was starting to sound almost like, dare Stan say, a spoiled teenaged girl.

"Randy!" He could practically here the tears in his voice and a hard lump grew in his throat. Another thing he hated… When his mother cried. A sharp stab went through Stan's heart and he clutched the sweat drenched over sized black T-shirt that clung to his skinny body. More tears.

"How… how could you say that! After… After all that you did…"

"That was years ago, Sharon! You just can't let things go can you…"

"All up in your business…?

"Yeah…"

"Ruining your life!"

"Yeah!"

"You fucked Liane Cartman!"

Stan's gasp caught in his throat as he choked.

"You fucked her Randy and you expect me to not to 'get all up in your business!"

Stan was now choking. His small hands gathered up the fabric of his shirt as he tugged at the collar in shock. "What! What!" It seemed almost… impossible. His dad? With Liane Cartman? But that was… that was Cartman's mom! He felt the choking sensation fade away, but the tingly realization lingered in his stomach… seriously threatening that nights dinner to come right back up.

"Everybody's fucked Liane."

"Not me!" Stan could hear the determination in her voice and he silently pleaded her to go on. To stand up for herself. This all had to be a joke right? Some kind of sick joke they were playing on him… No! This had to Cartman's fault… To split Stan's parents up with his mom to make him move… so that… Kyle would be sad! Cartman hated Kyle! Yes! That had to be it.

"Well duh Sharon… I didn't marry a lesbian…"

"I hate you!" Stan flinched and held the sheets to him as if it was his only lifeline as he heard the venom coating his mom's words. There it was. The H word. It was finally out and in the room and in the open for everybody to see. It had finally leered its big ugly head into their house and now that it was here, there was no going back. Stan knew that.

For once, Randy was silent. "You… You don't mean that."

"No. No I really do," was her only response.

The silence that followed was so awkward… yet so spiteful. Silence rang in Stan's ears as he tried to unsuccessfully shut out the world with his little pillow. Why… Why was this happening to him. He had always been a pretty decent kid… right?

"Well then."

More silence. It seemed to stretch on forever and Stan could clearly see the picture in his mind. His mom, with dark bags under her eyes, standing with her arms crossed and glaring at the taller man, hair disheveled and dirty as he leaned against the kitchen counter. Stan knew their faces so well… those were his parents. The ones who were supposed to love each other… and him. He could see their faces in his mind… but still they seemed so far away from the loving imagine that came along with them.

"Well then now what, Randy. Are we just gonna sit here and keep pretending we love each other?"

"I don't know…"

"Wake up every morning wondering why and how and…and what the hell we're doing?"

"I don't know…"

"You don't know what Randy!"

"I just don't know ok? Why is that so hard for you to understand! I don't know these things... and," More silence… then he followed up with, "and what about the kids?" Stan sighed and rolled over so he was facing the closed door. It didn't matter if it was shut, and blocking out the trouble in his life. The problems still got in and slithered under the frame and straight into Stan's head.

"I get custody. You aren't responsible enough…." Her voice was icy and distant, and made the chills from the cold air on Stan's neck intensify.

"I hate you."

That was the last straw... This was too much. Slowly, Stan climbed out of his bed and touched down to the carpet, one hand clutching a blanket and the other rubbing his eyes a bit. Once they got adjusted more to the dim light, Stan quietly walked out. It felt almost like a dream. The floor seemed to melt around him and his vision blurred until his room was one foggy smudge echoing with the loud angry voices of his parents. More harsh accusations. More empty promises. It was too much.

He opened his door and wondered into the hall, not knowing where to go and not necessarily caring. Anywhere was better then here. He vaguely felt wetness on his cheeks, and after lazily lifting one hand up, he felt the tears pouring freely down them. They fell on his shirt and left ugly stains. Ugly.

His head was down, so Stan didn't realize he had bumped into somebody, until it was too late. Slowly he lifted up his head, feeling ten tons too heavy, and met the squinty eyes of his sister. She too was wearing her pajamas and mirrored the same look of sadness on her face. Her retainer glittered in the dim hallway.

At first, Stan expected her to laugh at his tear stricken cheeks. Call him a fag or a turd for crying, and push him out of her way. But, in that one instant, Stan didn't care. He needed somebody. He needed somebody to take him in their arms, hold him, love him. Stan needed security. He reached out, like a child, and wrapped his arms around Shelly's mid section knowing it problem meant a slap to the face and a dirty name.

He was wrong. Shelly let out a choked sob and drew her little brother closer, the two of them clinging to each other silently. Stan's shoulders shook with silent cries, and judging from the wetness he felt on his forehead, Shelly was too.

"What's gonna happen now…?" Stan whispered so quietly he was sure she couldn't have possible heard.

"Honestly… I don't know," she murmured back even quieter and hugged him tighter. The soft moonlight shone down on their heads.

Really sorry if they seem a little OOC... Or if this was too dramatic...Thanks for reading~

Reviews make me very very happy ;v;