Chapter Text
He honestly didn’t think he would wake up again. Stan thought that when his vision blacked out as the rush of white noise took over his senses would be his last moment. Yet here he is, feelings slowly trickling back into his body one minuscule nerve at a time. It was a battle to try and break out of the void that engulfed his body.
The first thing that he was able to process was his sense of feeling. All he could truly process was how soft it felt wherever he was lying. The feeling of being surrounded by thin furs and a semi plush bottom had him huff out a sigh of relief, well as close as a wolf could.
The longer he sat here in this soft space, surrounded by warmth and comfort, the more Stan started to feel like he was worthless. He knew deep down that he didn’t deserve the soft feeling or the right to wake up like this. That he was useless , completely undeserving of any niceties that the world could give. He was a failure, a good for nothing grifter with no life to live.
As he lays here the prevailing feeling of dread begins to whisper to him. He just wished that the hallucination of his brother would have just left him to die. What kind of a fool did he become, thinking that his brother was ever there. He probably is dying, and this is his mind's last hurrah, in his final moments he imagined being saved by his twin. It was nothing but a pathetic fantasy from a sad man.
He wished he could curl up into a ball at least, what he really wanted was to be able to be a human. Stan also wished he could get enough energy to at least open his eyes. His eyelids felt like they were made of lead and stuck together with glue. He was nothing but a waste of space unable to even do basic tasks.
While he stewed in self-hatred, he felt the low buzzing in his ears go away. Stan could finally hear what was happening around him. There was a lot of electronic humming and the sound of hushed whispers from somewhere nearby. It felt weird
After a moment the whispers stopped, and he could hear steady footsteps walking gently and quietly into wherever he was. Whoever they were, they weren’t very good at being quiet. They sounded like an elephant in high heels trying to tiptoe around.
Stan let out a huff at all the noise, it was making his ears hurt. Making a throbbing pain burn behind his eyes, an ice pick piercing into his brain. The shuffling stopped for a moment as Stan whined at a particularly loud noise, it sounded like the person kicked something.
“Sorry little buddy,” a southern man whispered from somewhere nearby. The footsteps grew closer, a quiet chuckle echoing through the room. Stan could feel someone enter his personal space, the feeling of eyes burning through his skin.
The feeling of a hand grabbing his paw made Stan curl his lip up slightly. “This isn't gonna hurt for more than a pinch buddy.”
Stan snapped his eyes open as a cool sharp metal needle began prodding at his skin. Fear coursing through him. He couldn’t get euthanized; he wasn’t an animal .
Stan didn’t want to be put down like an old dog, he wanted to go places and do things. It didn’t matter if he never became human again, he still wanted to see the sun rise and maybe even his brother.
Please, please, please let him live. He knows he doesn’t deserve it, that he is a waste of space on this planet. But his will to live is all he has left now. If he gives that up then there will be nothing of Stanley Caryn Pines left.
With what little energy Stan had, he clumsily turned his head to try and bite the hand trying to stab him. It wasn’t much, little more than a jerk of his head and a small clack of his teeth. Still, he managed to make whoever it was yelp in fear and jump away.
Stan's head lolled to the side, unable to move from where he tried to bite the hand. God he was so tired. Even that small movement was exhausting, a deep throbbing pain echoed across his body. It hurt so much .
There were fast heavy footfalls coming closer, someone was running to help the needle man. There was nothing Stan could do to fight off two people. He would die here; at the hands of people, he didn’t know in some random place.
Stan let out a pitiful set of whimpers and whines as two sets of hands hold him down. It hurt to have that kind of pressure pressing down onto him. The vice the two people had made his bones creak, pain shooting through his body. There was nothing but the rush of white noise blaring in his ears, his only thought was the need to escape.
He tried to wiggle out of the hold, it wasn’t much but anything was better than dying like a dog. Whimpers of distress escaped him at a rapid rate, becoming more and more frequent the longer they held him. He went completely boneless as he realized that there was nothing more he could do.
The pressure released slightly, one of the hands disappearing. Stan let out a long whine as he ran out of energy to keep fighting. It didn’t matter anyway; this is what he deserves. He had nothing left now, at least he tried to live. It's not like he would be able to get far if he did get out, he was pathetic.
The cold metal came back, this time to his right paw. He forced his eyes open as the feeling of a chill started going through his veins. With his blurry vision Stan could have sworn that it was his twin’s face staring back.
In the end Stan once again is hallucinating who he wishes he could see the most. He just wanted to
go home
, see the sky for the first time with a smile, maybe even hug Ma. Unfortunately, this would be his end, with a hallucination of his twin being the person to kill him.