Soft blond hair fluttered in the wind as the skinny teenage boy stood atop the swing set in flat girls tennis shoes, tight jeans beneath a bubblegum skirt, and a Hello Kitty shirt under a light, almost teal hoodie. His hair was fluffed out, spiked with gel to the sides, and his bangs held out of his face by a rainbow-jeweled butterfly hair clip. Blue eyes looked tearfully to the moon as he kept his balance shakily, and his heart was sunken as low as he could imagine it would ever be able to sink. It still felt like it was moving lower with each passing second; he was utterly alone now, both his current situation atop the swings, and his social life.

If he felt like jumping, he showed the utmost of restraint in just standing. It took all he had in him not to fall on accident, and bust his own brains out on the icy snow below him. But when he felt low, this was one way for himself to bring his soul up. To stand up there, to feel the wind and the cold, and to know he mustn't be the only one who felt this pain, this self-pity he so wonderfully masked within himself.

The girls would never accept him, not after the slumber party incident. They just laughed now, saying he looked much better as a lady than he ever had as a boy. That was part of the reason he'd begun to dress as he was now; he agreed with them. He looked much better dressing metro sexual, or even cross dressing, than he ever had in his own normal attire. This was him; this was who he'd needed to be from the beginning. Only now the boys wouldn't accept him, either. Or if they wanted to, they couldn't because then they would lose social status too. And he understood this, and he didn't hold it against them. They never really were his friends to begin with; they just let him tag along out of pity sometimes. He knew that. But he was his own person now; he no longer needed their pity, and they no longer wished to give it to him. They were now far beyond that stage in life, and for once he was all too glad to not have to deal with them, to deal with him, and to just be who he was.

But he still wouldn't leave him alone completely. He got a hard on from pushing him around, from hurting him, and belittling him, and pissing all over his dignity with one hand still free to scratch his ass. That fat fuck Eric couldn't let go completely, oh no, not him. In some fucked up, sadistic way, picking on him was his only way to say he loved him. But he was done with that now. He wasn't going to allow him to do it to him anymore. And that's why he was up here, now, thinking. He was coming up with a way to be free of him forever. He wouldn't accept that cruel hand fate had dealt him when they were nine – he would be free of Eric Cartman's incessant bullying once and for all.

His eyes closed, and he let himself wobble in the light of the Hunters Moon, Halloween so close yet still so far away. He would completely ignore him, pretend nothing hurt him, ruin the fat boys hard on moment, and take away all the sadistic fun from picking on him. He would become insult-proof, and finally Eric would leave him alone, maybe move on to someone else. He didn't care anymore, just as long as he was free of him.

"Don't jump!" A familiar voice called.

Blue eyes fluttered open, balance was lost and regained, and he crouched. He turned his head over his shoulders and narrowed his eyes. Who was that, down there, asking him not to do something he'd had no intention of doing in the first place? A face came into focus, surrounded by curly auburn hair. Green eyes floated in a perfectly pale, lightly freckled face, but those details were a little hazy in the light of the full moon. A green hat was clenched in green-gloved fists, and he was biting his lip.

"I had no intention of j-jumping." He replied, soberly. "I was thinking about everything but that."

"Please come down?" The Jewish boy asked. "It makes me uncomfortable, seeing you swaying like a twig up there."

No reply, but he did what Kyle asked him to. He grasped the bar and allowed himself to swing down, landing his feet a little clumsily on the seat of the swing, and grabbed the chains as quick as he could. There was a nervous gasp from the auburn-haired boy, but he was in control for the most part, and stepped down to the frozen snow. Kyle stepped forward, and he flinched back, unsure of this whole situation.

"Wh-what… Do you want?" He asked, not saying his name out loud, not wanting to acknowledge any prior association with him simply because he was friends with his fat tormentor.

"I want to say something to you." Kyle replied, his voice secretly pleading. A tone he knew all to well, having used it with Eric so many times before, and gaining no quarter.

"S-so I had to c-come down here for that?" He asked. "I couldn't stay up there, where I was comfortable?"

"Butters." Kyle said, and blue eyes met green as they locked into each other's vision. "I want to tell you that I accept you."

He felt the weight of that comment like a ton of bricks had just fallen into his brain. Someone who seemed to be, for the most part, one of the "cool kids", accepted him. Bebe practically wet her pants every time he came around now, not to mention that slut Wendy seemed to want a piece for herself, he did good in classes, and he had a shit-ton of friends.

"Who are you, to ju-just come here and interrupt my thinking?" He asked, almost in a rage. "Who are you to just say "I accept you" like I need to be accepted?"
"I…" Kyle looked stung, like his favorite pet had just bitten him.

"I don't need your acceptance." He continued. "I don't need people to look as me and go "oh, there's that kid that everyone just calls Butters for some reason! Well, we should tell him we accept him." No! That's not what I need!"

"Butt…"

"Don't even!" He yelled. "Don't you even dare call me that like you're my friend!"

"Leopold…" Kyle said, and he stopped, just stared at him like some kind of new animal he'd never seen before.

"You… Y-you… Know my real name…" He said. It wasn't a question; it was more reaffirming it to himself.

"I do." He replied. "I thought you liked being called Butters. You never corrected us before, so we just assumed it was all right. Even your parents call you Butters, man. How was I to know?"

He closed his blue eyes again, trying to rationalize this. How many other people were like this? Didn't know because he'd never stood up and said "look, that's not my name!" and took some initiative? He lifted one arm up to hold his opposite shoulder, one knee buckled and he was supported completely by his left leg. Now it was his turn to feel bitten by a creature he'd thought to be tame, and he wasn't taking it well. Were the others near by, and this was just a joke to hurt him one final, ultimate time? He looked all around him, still holding his shoulder, and then fell to his knees, staring down at the snow. What was happening to him? He'd never quite gotten this way before about anyone, and yet Kyle had almost reduced him to tears with little more than a paragraph's worth of sentences. He'd blown all the anger, all the rage, right out of him with just his gentle reasoning.

"You…" He said, his voice chocked slightly in his throat. "My friend?" He asked, sounding unsure and on the verge of tears.

The green-eyed Jew sprang forwards, and put an arm around him, tilting his face up with his other, to look into his eyes. His breath caught as he felt the others warm touch. "Is that what you need?" He asked.

Leopold Stotch looked into his auburn-haired schoolmates eyes, and blinked a tear out of one of his own. He whispered something inaudible, some nonsense that even he didn't quiet understand, unsure of every part of his current situation.

"Do you need a friend? Do you need someone who can be an anchor for you?" Kyle persisted, seeming quiet concerned. Had he always been this concerned with him, he wondered. Had he just never noticed Kyle's honest and genuine care? "Can I be that anchor?"

Leo was silent for what seemed like ages, though must have only been a few minutes. He didn't know what to say, or even if he could speak if he tried. This boy was always on the receiving end of Eric's jokes and sadistic hate, too. Maybe it was natural he should be concerned, for him to care, knowing what its like to be the butt of Eric's cruel jokes, and sadistic pleasure. Maybe they should stick together, and united they could finally be free of the fat neo-nazi son-of-a-whore.
Leo's silence was beginning to frighten Kyle, and he let his face go free to fall should it want to. But his eyes remained fastened to Kyle's, and all at once his orange sweater seemed to want to choke him, and his own jeans seemed so tight despite how baggy he kept them. He felt conflicted, claustrophobic under the blond boys gaze. He wanted so badly to keep meeting it, but so uncomfortable he almost looked away in shame. It was Leo who finally broke the gaze, and he whispered something so quietly that Kyle wasn't even sure he'd actually said anything.

"Why?" He asked, and that one word seemed to say it all, every thing that Leo couldn't think to say was willed into the question, and Kyle picked up on every piece of it. "Why do you want to be my anchor?" He was asking. "Why do you want to keep me sane, why do you want to help me, why do you feel the need to accept me, why don't you say something when I get picked on at school, why today, why here, why like this?" And underneath it all was the one question that really mattered; "why me?" And despite all his own suave tactics, and his own keen intellect, Kyle couldn't come up with a real reason, not a single thing to say in response.

"Why not?" He asked in return, and Leo smiled sadly.

"Why not indeed." He replied, and in that single little snippy response Kyle knew he'd gotten through. He hugged the blue-eyed girly-boy in his arms as tight as he felt he could without hurting him, and Leo hugged back tight enough to force the breath from his body; and that was fine, if unexpected.

"Eat lunch with me tomorrow." Kyle said, and Leo nodded, his eyes shut tight, his breath held in to keep himself from sobbing gratefully, Kyle caught in a Stotch Death grip that would rival a hydraulic vice. And the Jewish Angel hugged him back until he was ready to let go on his own, and to look into the sincere emerald eyes with his own over-joyed ice-colored ones.

"Ho-how… How long..?" He asked, and Kyle tilted his head in confusion. "How long have you waited to tell me you accept me?"

"Since Cartman started picking on you." He replied. "But I was scared. I was scared of your reaction, and I was scared of Cartman's, and I was scared of my own."

"Its hard to imagine you scared." Leo replied, starting to shiver. "I always saw you as this fearless boy. You and Stan both. I've seen Eric scared, and sure as heck know I've seen Kenny scared, but you two just always seemed so… Self-assured."

"We're not, you know." He said. "We're just stubborn and cocky. We're a couple assholes who try not to think about what we know needs to be done, and just be done with it."

Leo laughed, and shrugged. "Sometimes I wish I could do that."

"But you don't need to." Kyle told him, and grabbed his open sweater. "You've got the balls to do this! To dress how you want, and to not wish for acceptance, or ask for our pity. You can do something we all wish we could do, and that's starting to scare some of the boys who are so scared to just be who they are. I envy you. I need to be more like you."

"I'm a whiney little pussy." Leo said, nonchalantly. "I'm a meek-ass, timid little bitch-boy who lets Eric practically ass-rape me, he picks on me so hard, and sometimes I think I might actually like it!" He stood up, breaking from Kyle's warm arms, and turning away. "I'm nothing but the masochist Eric's wanted all his cruel, sadistic life, and you want to be like me?"

"Leopold," Kyle said, "you've been changing so much lately, you're hardly the bitch you used to be."

"But you did think I was just a little bitch for Eric to play around with!"

"Were, but you aren't any more!" Kyle yelled. "You've matured into someone so unaffected outwardly by ridicule that I hardly recognized you when you walked into class in that getup."

Leo flinched again, this time because the only change he'd noticed in himself was his choice in attire. He felt himself blushing under the light amount of make-up covering his face, concealing it enough that Kyle didn't notice as he walked over to put a hand on Leo's shoulder.

"You'll stick by me?" He asked. "During school hours? You'll just up and say fuck a social life to be my friend? Now, when so many people seem to like you?"

"Fuck them."

"Fuck you." Leo said, and turned to face him, planting a kiss right on his cracked, chapped lips. Then he faced away from him and walked off. Kyle stood there, looking to the reflective snow and saying nothing.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day at school Eric tried to trip him, and he hopped effortlessly over the foot he had been expecting from the moment he'd woken up. The brunette cursed, and followed him, everyone just staring. Leo ignored him, not even acknowledging his nickname being called. The others looked on unsure of what was happening, sensing anarchy towards the hierarchy of high school social life. Here was the outcast completely ignoring his tormentor, saying fuck you wordlessly to the boy who had always walked all over him.

"Butters, god damnit, I'm talking to you!" Eric said, practically whining, but Leo just kept walking, entering class and sitting in his seat with no more than a slight huff as he ignored the fat boy. Flustered, Eric slammed his hands down onto the desk, and looked into Leo's unresponsive eyes. "Hey, fag." He said, and the small crowd of their classmates looked on, knowing that Leo was going to get it this time, and Eric wouldn't be gentle. "I was talking to you."

"Oh?" Leo replied, ice in his voice. Eric flinched. "I'm sorry, that's what that noise was in the hallway?"

"I don't know what you're pulling, Butters." Eric said. "But you're mine, and I'm going to fuck you up for this."

"I'm not sure you quite get the message here, asshole." Butters said, flipping his hair behind his ear with one hand. "Leave me alone, Eric. I'm done. No more of this, this fucked up sadistic thing you seem to think is a relationship. You're fucked up, and I'm not dealing with it anymore."

"I'm fucked up?" Eric asked. "I'm fucked up? You're the one who started to come to school dressed as Marjorine seven years after the bull crap with the future telling device."'

"But at least I don't pop a damned boner over tripping up the blond kid who doesn't fit in," Leo said, his voice strong, "or simply from making him feel scared and insecure."

Craig and Clyde were talking in the background, quietly, trying to decide just how bad things were going to turn out for him if he kept on this route, Craig saying Eric was going to kill him, and Clyde thinking maybe, just maybe, he had a chance. Then Kyle came into the class, and saw what was happening.

"Leave off, fatass." Kyle said, walking over. "Just fucking walk away, and maybe you won't have hell to pay later on."

"Fuck you, ya fuckin' Jewfag." Eric said. "Stay out of this."

"No, you fat fuck." Kyle responded, standing his ground firmly, and Leo smiled. "I won't. You're getting out of hand, and this has to stop. Leave him alone!"

"Kyle, its alright." He said.

"No, its not." He retorted. "Its not alright for this fat fuck to do what he does to you."

"Kyle, I can handle him. I know how he works." Leo told him. "I know he isn't going to hurt me, because I, and I alone, know certain things about him that he fears people finding out. I'm the only person in the whole school who could successfully blackmail him and have him in perfect fear."

Eric froze; his eyes locking onto the taller, skinnier boy who he'd forgotten knew almost everything he'd never tell anyone he didn't feel he had power over. And here it was, backfiring on him like some sort of horrible bottle-rocket misfire, and for once he felt scared of Leo.

"Like, for instance," Leo kept on, knowing the stranglehold he'd just put Eric in would choke him up and work in the blonds favor, "an unfortunate happening with his cousin years ago. Or his deepest emo-moments, his full insecurities, and almost everyone he's ever had a hard-on for."

The tables were fully turned now, and Eric retaliated by punching him in the face and storming out of the room, silently admitting defeat in a way no one else could replicate, cursing his name and everything he stood for. Clyde began slowly to clap for the femboy, and soon the whole room was applauding uproariously at Leo's sudden showing of courage and guts, to stand up to the biggest bully any of them had ever known, and send him prissily grumbling from the room in silent fear and open rage.

Craig clapped him on the back, and suddenly it seemed the whole school was on his side, and rooting for him, and he was still just faggy little Butters, who wore lip gloss and blush, and carried a Hello Kitty purse, but never fit with the boys, and was rejected absolutely by the girls. He had only put an end to his most hated social situation, his fucked up relationship with Eric, and now he was everyone's favorite whiney little pussy, being hand-shook left, right, and center, and even hugged in a few instances. Sloppy praises, and laughter met his ears as he realized he'd just done something no one but Kyle, Stan, and Kenny had ever had the balls to do openly and unabashedly; he'd just been raised to the same near-god-like status everyone secretly held them in, and Eric wouldn't be able to pick on him anymore without feeling the wrath of all these people who now knew that anyone could stand up to Eric Cartman the Sadistic, Fat, Son-of-a-Whore.

Every moment of his life had been leading up to this triumph, every jab, every nasty word, every dirty look had been propelling him to this moment in time during which he seemed to be trapped in his own mind. He had no control, he was saying nothing, he was in utter shock at everyone's reactions, at being suddenly everyone's friend. Finally he came back to himself.

"Shut up." He said, and a few people looked at him funny, but the general throng of laughing, joviality seemed to continue. "Will you all just shut up?" He yelled, and they stopped, slowly turning to look at him.

Kyle nodded his own silent approval at Leo's feelings. He knew what it was like for him, not fully, but remembering from the metro sexual phase in their childhood just how awful it could be to be rejected the way he always had been.

"You think that just because I did that, you're all my friends now?" He asked, and got a few nods. "No. You're not. You all treated me like dirt because you were afraid of Eric, and the nut-hold he had you all in. Fuck you. You're not friends, you're cowards, and its just taken me too long to realize it. The only one of you who's ever took initiative in accepting me in any way was Kyle, and even he was too late for me to forgive."

The two locked eyes, and Kyle saw the truth in them that seemed to sting him so deeply he couldn't even being to fathom why.

"I don't agree with the way I've been treated up until now." Leo continued. "Left aside like some pet, not to be fully accepted as a person, but great for when you were bored, or had no one better to hang with and no one was around to see. I'm fucking sick of you people, and your social hierarchy, and your rules of social acceptance. I'm sick and tired of you thinking friendship is something that can be ignored, or faked, or just spring up from no where now that I'm not taking shit from Eric anymore, and you all know it, and what I can do to him.

"You make me so freaking ill with all your falsities and lies and bullshit. Just fuck off and leave me to be who I am and make or break my own bridges in life. Just fuck off and die, so I can find people who honestly accept me regardless of everything. I'm not going to conform to your standards, and be who you all seem to think I'm supposed to be now that I've stood up to the bastard who's done all but rape me while you stood around pretending to think it was funny so he wouldn't call you a fag, or push you into the mud. And why? Because better me than you. Better socially awkward little Butters take the fall so that you don't have to feel insecure. But what about my feelings? What about the person inside of me that you all seem to overlook so that you can go on feeling secure about yourselves, and Eric will leave you alone?

"I have every right in the damned universe to be as pissed off at all of you as I am. None of you can reach me, you've forced the wall up too high, and it's far too late for me to allow you entrance, even if I wanted to. Which I don't."

Kyle stared into his enraged gaze, not breaking, standing firm under the weight of a gaze that did, in fact, have every right to show such malicious hatred for all those around him. He wouldn't back down, and Leo allowed this to go unchallenged.

"Don't talk to me, don't look at me, don't even call me that ridiculous nickname anymore." He said. "Do any of you even know my real name anymore?" He asked as an afterthought, and was met with dropped gazes, and mumbles of no.

"Its Leopold Stotch." Kyle said, loud and clear, for everyone to know. "Leo."

The name was repeated by a few of the usual suspects, and then by those who weren't so usual, and finally by those he'd never met, until it was like a chant of "Leopold Stotch" flowing out into the hall to all those who'd seen, and the story and the chant would flow through the grape vine faster than Leo would ever be able to keep track of, soon turning him legendary, until weeks after the entire event, he would have to force himself blind to all the stares from people he'd never even spoken to in his life, all the kids in South Park, looking to him as though he were this unapproachable, god-like creature, just like Jareth the Goblin King in Labyrinth. And he laughed silently.