Hey there.
Well, officially inspired by songs and Red's innocent beauty I came up with this cliche and random pile of crap.

Songs:
I Will Follow You Into The Dark - Death Cab For Cutie.
Simple Plan - I can wait Forever (the line: I can wait forever..)

I Can Wait Forever; xx

When Wendy broke up with Stan a second time, he believed it hurt more than the first. The first time - Stan assumed - hurt more because he was only young and she was his first love. Love. He had given it to her twice, and she'd thrown it away.

But at sixteen years old Stan thought he'd be able to cope, but he couldn't. He buried himself under his covers, eyes showing and his nose poking out onto dark blue satin sheets. His eyes were red and sore, filling with over flowing tears. He stayed in his bed, feeling alone and bare. His curtains were closed, all the lights were off and his mouth stayed closed.

"Stan, honey.. You have to eat.." His mother whispered softly, standing beside his bed and kneeling to his level, stroking black hair between her fingers. She watched his broken eyes turn to her slowly before he turned away and let out a sob. "..I'll bring it up later, darling.." She said, standing to her feet and turning out of the room, passing Randy on her way out.

"Stan," Randy muttered, stepping forward into Stan's room and looking at his back with a sad expression on his face. "Hey, son.. How are you feeling?" He asked gently. Stan sniffed loudly, another sob falling from his mouth and tears spilling onto his pillow.

"Why me, dad?" Stan asked in a croaky voice, "Why is it always my fault? I did all she wanted, I stayed with her, I talked to her - I spent almost all of my time with her.." Another sob fell from Stan as he buried himself deeper into the covers.

"Stan," A knock echoed through his room. Randy turned to the door to see Sharon standing with a boy beside her, "You have a visitor.. Go on in. Randy. Come on.." She said, pushing the younger boy inside softly and grabbing Randy; pulling him out and closing the door.

Stan didn't move from his covers, not even when he heard a soft sigh. He closed his eyes tightly and held back the tears that kept falling.

"Conformist," Was the soft word whispered in the dark. Stan's eyes opened slowly as he sat up and turned to face the person in his room, wiping his eyes with his long, black sleeve. He blinked at the person in his room and watched their black expression soften. "You look horrible," They muttered.

Stan nodded weakly and continued to wipe his eyes, ducking his head, "Why are you here?" He asked the Goth.

Red glanced at him and moved forward, then stopped by the bed, "I heard what happened," He muttered softly, flicking crimson and black hair from his face.

Stan sniffed to himself and rubbed his sore eyes. "How?" He asked, turning to face Red who was watching him simply. Red flicked his hair from his eyes again and blinked.

"Your friends." He replied. "They're all worried about you." Red said softly, moving forward again.

"So why did you come?" Stan asked.

Red looked down, flicking his hair away from his eyes and then glancing back up at Stan and repeating the process of flicking his hair away from his eyes. He frowned to himself, more than to Stan and shrugged his shoulders simply in a silent response.

"To bitch at me?" Stan asked, eyes narrowing as more tears fell.

Red looked at him with a soft expression and stepped forward, hesitantly he placed his hand on Stan's cheek and wiped away a tear, he let his eyes soften as Stan looked back at him with shock, "Why would I do that?" He asked.

Stan shrugged, placing his hand over Red's.

"I always knew this would happen," Red said, sighing, "It's so simple to see, she was so easy to see.. What have you done to yourself?" Red asked, looking him up and down.

Stan gasped slightly as another sob fell out of him at Red's words. Red stepped forward, sitting on the bed and letting Stan hold onto him. "They never came - they never cared, and neither did she.." He sobbed into Red's black shirt.

Red stroked Stan's back and looked down at his black hair, "Who never came?" He asked.

Stan sobbed against him, "K-Kyle! My friends, Wendy.. N-None of them, Red, n-none cared.." He whispered, tears soaking through the black shirt. Stan went to pull away, but Red only held him tighter; praying (to the non-existant God of course) that no one would know he was like this..

..Especially not the others. But for Stan..

"Conformists," Red said harshly, "They're all faggot conformists, Stan. You don't need them," He told the football player with a softer voice he said: "You just need someone who won't break your heart."

Stan shivered against him. Red lay Stan back down, but let his hand rest over Stan's as he pulled the cover over Stan comfortably, "Love of mine some day you will die.. But I'll be close behind, I'll follow you into the dark.." Red sung, his lips curling into a small smirk as Stan stared at him.

"..What?" He questioned.

Red ignored Stan, "No blinding light or tunnels to gates of white just our hands clasped so tight, waiting for the hint of a spark. If Heaven and Hell decide; that they both are satisfied, illuminate the NOs on their vacancy signs. If there's no one beside you, when your soul embarks.. Then I'll follow you into the dark.."

Stan's eyes narrowed, "Red?" He question. Red looked down at him and shook his head, pushing away his hair with his flick. He glared at the emptiness in Stan's eyes and looked around the bedroom, again, ignoring Stan. "Red, what are you singing?" Stan asked softly.

Red looked down at him with softer eyes, "Conformist.." He muttered.

Stan smiled slightly, his eyes tearing up against as he focused on Wendy. Red watched his eyes and shook his head softly.

"Stanley Marsh," He muttered, brushing Stan's hair from his forehead and sighing, "You don't.. God, you don't need her."

Stan let out a deep breath, catching it half way through and shaking, "Eight years, Red. Eight years and she throws it out like it's nothing to her. Eight years of shit, Red.. Do you know how that feels? To throw everything away just for another person?" Stan snapped.

Red looked to his purple shoes, removing his hand from Stan and standing up, "Of course I do." He replied.

Stan glared at him, "How?!" He cried, tears falling from his face, "How when you've never tried a relationship with somebody, Red!?" He yelped slightly as Red turned to him with dark eyes.

"Because, I'm a freaking Goth, you conformist," Red bit out, "I've been sitting here for eight years just waiting for that preppy little cheerleader to break up with you - or for you to break up with her. I had to wait, be patient!" He sighed to himself and flicked his hair from him, "I just.. know how it feels." Red said.

Stan watched him, eyes wide and full of tears. Confusion melted through him.

"..You.. - Eight yea- Me?" Stan stuttered, staring at Red with sadness and confusion.

Red nodded. "I can wait forever." He muttered, quoting lyrics as he folded his arms, suggesting to himself that Stan probably didn't recognise said lyrics. But the look on his face showed the meaning in the words had shocked him. "I'll go, Stan.." He said softly, turning to Stan and sighing, "...Get better." He told him, walking out and pocketing his hands, pulling out a small iPod and placing headphones in his ears.

x x x x x x x x - x x x x x x x x x

"I heard about that Mike kid, he went to Transylvania." Henrietta murmured, taking a drag on her cigarette as he sat on the black layed out on the snow. The taller and older of the group snorted and took his own drag, both exhaled the smoke at the same time.

"Figures," Curly Goth muttered, "Freaking vamp kids.." He muttered, remembering the incident clearly in his mind. Henrietta nodded to herself and to him; remembering also.

Red leant against the wall, eyes closed as he listened to his music, one earphone in his ear and the other curling around his finger as he tapped it against his knee.

Henrietta glanced up from sorting out their youngest Goth's hair and stared at one of their.. ex.. members. She blinked several times at the black attire on his bottom half and the studded belt that seemed to shine in her eyes.

"Raven?" She muttered.

Curly's dark eyes glanced toward Stan and he grunted, "Come back?" He muttered. Stan smiled slightly and walked over to Red, kneeling in front of him and shaking him slightly. Red opened his eyes slowly and stared at the boy in front of him.

"What the hell are you doing?" Red asked.

Stan smiled and sat beside him, grabbing the earphone and placing it to his ear, nodding slightly to the music booming through the electrical device. He looked back at Red with soft eyes and dropped the earphone, resting his shoulder against Red's.

"So.. I thought.." Stan said.

Red looked down at his fingers and then back to Stan, "For a week?" He asked and then glanced around not waiting for Stan to reply before he asked: "Where are your friends?"

Stan shook his head and shrugged, "Playing football, I suppose." He replied. He looked down at Red's purple painted nails and bit his bottom lip, shutting his eyes and exhaling a deep sigh. He re-opened his eyes to find Red staring at him, "So.. I did think, for a week.." He muttered lamely.

Red scoffed, "Obviously." He retorted, pausing his iPod.

"And," Stan began, resting his head against Red's shoulder and smiling as Red stiffened and then relaxed. He shuffled his hand over to Red's and pressed their palms together, fingers twining together. Red glanced down at him.

"I see," The Goth muttered, wrapping his free arm around Stan's waist.

"Thanks.. for waiting.. Thanks for.." Stan sighed, "Being there.."

Red watched his friends turn away to allow him his privacy. His lips twitched upwards slightly as he pressed his lips to Stan's temple. ".. I could wait forever."