Superman

by shortstackedcheesecake

A sad, Kyman story that may drain you emotionally... Hopefully in a good way. But on the bright side there's some Stary and Kenndy to keep you going! Rated T. Contains God-parents, hospitals & Clyde's awful Christmas parties. Hope you enjoy and reviews are always appreciated!

"Okay, look, you have the dog star over here and then Cassiopeia over there"

"Where's the big dipper?" Cartman interrupts, already becoming impatient by this astrology lesson. He didn't know how Kyle knew all this stuff and he wasn't really interested in the answer. He just went along with this whole thing because Kyle wanted to go for a drive, a nice, simple drive up to Stark's Pond and now they're stuck star-gazing.

Kyle rolls his eyes and points "See those seven stars? That's it"

"Oh" Cartman replies, the syllable is small and consensual and Kyle can tell he's bored, but he still appreciates the fact that Cartman is actually doing something nice for another human being. Kyle was slowly getting used to these surprises, for these past six months they've been occurring daily.

"They're pretty, right?"

"I guess" Cartman sighs "You know, if you like that sort of thing."

It was the middle of July, the snow had started to thaw and the nights stretched longer. The constellations immersed themselves in ink, bruised by a purple, incandescent light which smeared the skyline. The stars, heavenly eyes of needles watched over the sleeping town that was beginning to grow dark, streetlights and houses seemed like golden fireflies to the two sixteen year olds lying in the stiff grass. Distancing themselves from it all. Summer always made the beauty in the town more clear, exposed when it lost its coat of thick snow. But even if the snow had melted it was still freezing.

"Getting cold yet?" Kyle asks, though he can feel himself shivering.

"No" Cartman lies, not even acknowledging that Kyle's hand has reached out to touch his.

Kyle wakes up to that fourteen year old memory and he swear he can see the stars twisting themselves in his vision like a kaleidoscope. But it's just a memory and he smiles when he thinks how different Cartman looked then, still slightly chubby with the most boyish, wicked smile he had ever seen on anybody, how fresh-faced and carefree he looked and how his eyes reflected everything that mattered.

It's 1:00 PM. Like that was a problem. Kyle tried to count how long he had slept for but he can't even remember what happened last night, did Kenny come over? He spoke to somebody on the phone he was sure, he spoke to someone... He was 100% sure of that. He really needed to move all these boxes, paint the walls a different colour, the current paint was making him claustrophobic, white and dying to be filled with messages, thoughts and things he didn't particularly want to think of. He needed to change this bed, it was too big for a start, meant for two people but he doubted that was going to happen any time soon. He couldn't remember the last time he left the house and got drunk with a group of people rather than by himself.

The space next to him makes him think of how he used to sleep there. Kyle never woke him up, you never woke a sleeping Cartman. Kyle would just watch him and feel like a total creep, but he was allowed to look at him, right? Tears moisten his tired eyes and Kyle grits his teeth and presses his palms to the hollow sockets to dry these damn tears. He can feel a panic attack coming on, so he gets out of bed before his shredded, nervy emotions can get the better of him.

It's easy to ignore silence if you mindlessly play discordant noises in your head, Kyle eventually learnt this after a while, it distracts you from the ache of a heart trying to repair itself. But it's not as effective as pouring all your sorrows to Jack Daniels. That always helps.

He hates the noise the stairs make when he steps on them, too harsh, echoing too loudly. Most of all he hates how empty everything feels, how it's impossible to get a grip on anything anymore when you're deserted in this hollow, blank space.

Kyle can actually feel a smile forming in the corner of his mouth as he picks up the half empty glass from the coffee table and drinks the lukewarm whiskey, it's taste carelessly eluding him.

Clyde Donovan's annual Christmas party was slowly starting to become the most painfully boring and tedious night of the year. So much so that Stan, Kyle, Kenny and Cartman began to wonder why they bothered showing up. They were beginning to get sick of hearing the same sickeningly jolly Christmas songs playing on a loop and watching despairingly as Clyde tried and failed to get people into the festive spirit.

The only person who was co-operating with the tiniest slither of enthusiasm was Butters, who was wearing a pair of antlers and handing out snowman shaped cookies to the guests. Kenny suggested that Butters should be handing out Tequila instead, more people would go for that and it would make Butters look like less of a girl scout.

However hard Clyde (and Butters) tried, the guests just seemed vanished. Stan had to take Gary home because he got himself wasted off the beers he had drunk before coming to the party. Meanwhile, Cartman and Kyle just assumed that Kenny had hooked up with some girl and left them stranded in the middle of Clyde Donovan's living room. Along with twelve other moody guests.

"Listen, Kahl, I've been thinking..."

"Yes?" Kyle smiled, with just a hint of suspicion, he had heard that sentence way too many times and it would always lead to an argument.

"You're Jewish, right? So therefore, if I bought you a Christmas present, that would just be very insensitive of me, yes?"

"Well, not really-"

"BUT because I'm a Christian, you should still get me a present otherwise that would make you a spiteful douchebag."

"On what planet are you a Christian?" Kyle laughs, rolling his eyes "You haven't stepped foot inside a church since you were nine and I'm sure your skin would sizzle if you ever came into contact with holy water."

"You're mean, Jewboy" Cartman snaps, messing up Kyle's hair and making him even more frustrated. "But I have a point and you know it."

"Fine" Kyle smiles smugly "But if you're not going to get me a Christmas present, you need to get me Hanukkah presents. Eight days worth."

"Alright" Cartman shrugs before pulling Kyle in for a quick, gentle kiss, which makes Kyle blush and smile dreamily against Cartman's lips.

"Aren't you supposed to kiss under mistletoe?" Kyle asks.

"Fuck, and Clyde wonders why nobody likes his lame ass parties, he doesn't even buy the necessary decorations."

"You know Kyle, you may not realise this now, but Heavenly Father does everything for a purpose."

Kyle narrows his eyes at Gary, while the Mormon's unflinching, firmly positive eyes remain oblivious to how stupid that sounds right now. He doesn't respond, instead he just takes a slow sip of his whiskey and grimaces at the bitter, foul liquid burning the walls of his dry throat. Kyle gives Stan a despairing look, he's probably so embarrassed by his boyfriend's behaviour that he can't even look at his desperate best friend, wasting away on the couch.

Kyle wants to ask Gary how is it possible to believe in a being that is so reckless, volatile and cruel? How could he stay faithful in a world full of suffering and cruelty? He even wonders how Gary would feel if he ever lost Stan? Whether this loss was permanent or not... Kyle wonders if Gary would turn to his God, lose himself in scripture and whisper psalms over and over as he crawled out of the dark space or would he just... Sink. Crash unapologetically and destroy himself in the vain hope that he may be able to rebuild himself again.

"Gary, sweetie, can I just talk to Kyle for a second in private?" Stan tries to ask as nicely as possible, but it just comes out as patronising and uncomfortable.

"Sure thing" Gary nods obediently, getting off the couch and making his way to the door. But before he leaves he says one more thing "Oh, and Kyle? Forever has a lot of obstacles. But you'll reach each other someday, if you believe it was meant to be. Heavenly Father will make sure of it."

Kyle looks up from his whiskey and meets Gary's sincere, heartfelt eyes. He wills his vision not to cloud with tears as he nods mindlessly, taking the words and turning them over rapidly in his head, searching for meaning.

"Thanks" he finally whispers dryly, as Gary leaves.

There's a heavy, lingering pause and something tells Stan that this is just the calm before the storm. He can hardly bring himself to look at Kyle, the person sitting opposite him is just disappearing slowly, parts of him drowning in the night, too tired to try to fight the waves.

"Your boyfriend's a fucking retard" Kyle mumbles.

"Hey, give him a break. I know he's kind of intense with the whole 'Heavenly Father' thing but that's how he deals with stuff, it's the only way he knows how... His optimism must piss you off, I realise that... Especially now, but he's harmless, Kyle." Stan replies, it feels wrong to smile but he's just happy that Kyle is talking.

"I know" Kyle groans in exasperation, sighing heavily before whispering "I'm sorry"

"It's okay."

"You can say it if you want..." Kyle smiles sadly, biting his lip and he doesn't care when a tear slides down his face.

"What?"

"You can say that you told me so." Kyle replies, tears coming thick and fast, he swallows the lump in his throat and tries to speak as clearly as he can "We should never have gone through with it, it would only end up hurting me and make it harder to move on. But I, I don't regret it Stan, I would have ended up this way regardless of whether we went through with it or not."

"I'm not gonna say that." Stan says, shaking his head, it's excruciating to see Kyle like this. It was what they were all preparing for, he guessed. The ordeal wouldn't just end with the shrill, mocking sound of a flatline. Hell, that was only the beginning. "You didn't do it for the sake of his last months, you did it because you loved each other."

Stan looks down at Kyle's trembling hands and sees that the pure band of gold is still there, the vows running seamlessly through Kyle's veins.

"I just miss him so much, Stan." Kyle whimpers helplessly, breaking down into Stan's crumbling embrace. Sounds of despair muffled between the two, all evidence of tears disappearing quickly on the material of Stan's shirt.

"I know you do" Stan whispers, fighting back tears of his own and staring into an empty space, hoping to find an answer.

Even in the most palpably painful of memories, it's easy to highlight the good points. In this case, Kyle remembered it was sunny on what was probably one of the worst days of his life, when he felt himself say that word which always feels foreign no matter how commonplace it becomes in your life.

"Cancer?" Kyle whispers, the devastation slowing everything down "Are, are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so" The oncologist sitting across from them replies uncomfortably, before continuing, making the dagger twist "Well, more specifically Hodgkin Lymphoma."

Who cares what the fuck it's called? Kyle thinks and he can tell Cartman is thinking the same thing. He hasn't said anything since they walked in here and every time Kyle looks at him, he's just staring blankly out the window. The sun spilling into the clinical, pristine office filled with files, posters and pamphlets. The light struggling to liven up and give character to this oak and leather furnished room. Even the warm, canary glow from outside fails to get rid of the depressing coldness.

"Well, aren't you going to say anything?" Kyle asks helplessly, grabbing Cartman's wrist and when their eyes meet, Kyle can hardly believe that Cartman's sick. He looks fine, a little scared and lost in his thoughts, but fine. He was still the boy he fell in love with, still the arrogant kid who believed he could do anything, that nothing scared him, who always got his way. The thought of that boy slowly fading away into nothing makes Kyle grip his wrist even tighter.

"What do you mean? I can't do anything about it now, I don't even know what the fuck it means..." Cartman replies, it seems like he's talking to no one, that he's just thinking out loud.

"Don't say that! Of course we can do something about it! And if you're not going to talk about it then I will" Kyle says, rather defiantly, turning to the doctor and continuing "So? tell us about it."

And though the doctor is surprised by Kyle's bold, fiery attitude, Cartman's more than used to it, he just smirks and rolls his eyes.

"With Hodgkin lymphoma, it's the cells in the lymph nodes that become cancerous. The lymph nodes are small glands that are found all around the body. In your case, the lymph nodes in the liver are effected."

"But with the right treatment, he'll be fine, right? I mean, he's young, he's only 27 and the cancer hasn't become so severe that it's hopeless, has it?" Kyle realises how desperate and pathetically optimistic he's being about all this, but everything has just started to sink in and he'll crawl and search for any scrap of light he can. Just so he could have some balance and comfort that things were going to be okay.

"Well, even though people who are under 50 usually respond well to treatment, the cancer is more severe than we hoped so we need to start a course of chemotherapy as soon as possible. But if the lymph nodes become enlarged or the symptoms become worse, then we may have to combat that with radiotherapy. But I'm positive that this course of treatment will be effective."

"Sounds good" Cartman mumbles, smiling briefly and trying his best to give Kyle a supportive look. It almost makes Kyle relieved, but the nagging, overwhelming sense of panic is making him ignore the doctor's optimism.

"However, there could be a risk of the cancer coming back, so I would heavily recommend you to obviously keep having regular tests and screenings during your remission. If the cancer does come back, we can start you on chemotherapy again or we may have to perform a bone marrow transplant."

Kyle and Cartman stayed in the doctor's office for an hour, listening intently as they heard stories of past patients who recovered and hadn't relapsed once, the side effects of every treatment and the phone numbers of people they could call. They flicked through pamphlets which boiled every confused, conflicting emotion down to mild, watered down sympathies that did nothing to put their minds at rest. Sometimes the doctor's words dissolved into nonsense, the advice in those pamphlets made no sense, they were too wrapped up in thoughts of each other to acknowledge anything else.

But Kyle was determined to be there until the end, even if each day became more frightening, draining and heartbreaking than the last. He'd rather grit his teeth and fight back tears during those hurtful, terrifying moments than to not be there at all. Because even though Cartman was too proud to say it, he needed Kyle more than ever.

"Sweetie, don't you think it would be a good idea if you had something to eat?" Bebe asked softly, resting her head on Kyle's shoulder as she played with his hair.

Kyle shook his head, he couldn't remember the last time he had a proper meal. Kenny and Wendy took him out to Sizzler a few weeks ago, but he only ordered a basket of fries and ate a couple of them. The only reason he agreed to go was out of sheer gratitude and politeness, he couldn't understand why anybody would want to spend time with him, he struggled to make it through a conversation without mumbling or having a panic attack. He was just sick of pity, of people feeling sorry for him and he knew the only way he could stop people treating him this way was if he made an effort to feel better. But it was too soon, the only emotions he could conjure were tinged with this deep, aching loss.

Out of all the friends who visited him, Bebe was the most maternal and nurturing. She was deeply perceptive, knowing exactly how Kyle felt and he didn't have to say a word to her. It was the remarkable understanding that she showed which made Kyle thankful for her, the way she would look into his worn out eyes, stroke his hair and nod. For years she had said that Kyle was the gay brother she never had and even though she had admitted to him drunkenly one night many years ago that she had been infatuated with him since fourth grade, she understood that the odds of him and her ever hooking up were very, very slim. Especially now that she was Mrs Clyde Donovan and had been for 5 years.

Kyle had a policy, which he made out of pride. Try your damn hardest not to break down. He had gone against this policy many times, when he just felt too vulnerable and all the words he could ever say had become meaningless. He didn't mind breaking down in front of Bebe, she would simply pull him into her embrace and mumble "I'm here sweetie, it's alright" over and over and Kyle would feel himself tire of crying, comforted by Bebe's words and the perfume she always wore.

"So how are you honey?" Bebe asked.

"I'm fine" Kyle lies "Well, I'm fed up of talking about myself all the time. How's Clyde?"

"He's great, you know, same old, same old." Bebe always tried to persuade Clyde to counsel Kyle, after all, Clyde had a pretty good understanding of what it was like dealing with grief. He struggled for years when his mother passed away, his relationship with his father became more and more dysfunctional when he entered his teens and he tried his hardest to rebel, to make his cries for help heard. He would often get brought home in a police car or spend the night in jail. Kyle wasn't surprised that Clyde felt so desperate and confused as a teenager, Kyle was barely coping with death at the age of thirty but to have to go through something so tragic when you're ten just seems unfathomable.

"Seriously Kyle, honey, just talk to me. I know it's hard but it will help you."

"There's nothing to say-"

"I don't care. Just tell me anything."

After a hopeless, long pause, Kyle takes a deep breath and says, not making any eye contact. "I really wanted to cremate him... Which is kind of weird but I thought we could scatter his ashes somewhere meaningful and I figured he would be at peace that way, right?"

Bebe nods, it's nice to see Kyle talk so fondly about something, even if it is morbid and tragic.

"But his mom wanted to have him buried so it would be easier to visit him, which kind of makes sense but... I just don't like the thought of him surrounded by dozens of other bodies, trapped in that coffin. I knew he would've hated it, but I didn't want to get into a big fight with his mom about it because she was just so distraught and messed up in those last couple of months and I didn't want to make it worse. Still, it would've been nice if his ashes were scattered at Stark's Pond... Cartman, Stan, Kenny and I used to go camping there all the time when we were kids and when me and Cartman were dating, you know, when we were teenagers we used to drive up there and lie in the snow and talk about dumb stuff. And when it got too cold we'd go in his car and make out. Every time we were there, it felt like we never wanted to leave, we could've happily frozen, that would've been perfect."

"You know what my mom used to do when I got sick as a kid?" Cartman asks as him and Kyle drive home from the oncologists.

"What?"

"Take me to Whistilin' Willy's Pizza and when we came home, she'd let me watch Terrance and Philip and she'd sit next to me on the couch. She would let me rest my head on her shoulder and she'd stroke my hair until I fell asleep." Cartman smiles, small yet vivid scraps of memories coming together like a patchwork quilt, making this whole thing taste a little less sour. He remembered the feverish noises of the pizza restaraunt and the sickly taste of coke. He remembered how his mom used to smile when he laughed at the TV, how she used to coo his name with more sympathy and care when he was sick and how she always smelt like Crabtree and Evelyn shampoo. It all seems so comfortable and safe and he could kid himself in thinking that this was going to be no different.

"Really? My mom could never take me places when I was sick. Because I'm diabetic and stuff, when I got sick I just became too weak and exhausted to go anywhere, so she'd make sure I had tons of blankets and she'd make me this chicken soup that always made me feel a little better." Kyle replies, finding it strange that they're talking about this now, but Cartman had just received some pretty heavy news so it was natural for him to be feeling a little sentimental.

After a brief pause, Cartman laughs under his breath and says "She panicked a lot though, I mean, she tried to hide it but I could just tell. Even when nothing was wrong with me and I just happened to sneeze or cough, she'd rush over to me and ask me did I have a fever and was I feeling light-headed. I'd say no, but she wouldn't believe me... This one time, I was really sick with the flu or something and I passed out. She took me to the hospital and in the car I tried to wake up, but my eyes just wouldn't stay open. I remember hearing other cars driving past and the radio was turned down low. I thought I was gonna throw up because it felt like we were moving so fast. I heard her crying and I thought 'fuck this' and went back to sleep."

"Why do you think she was like that?" Kyle asks softly. He looks over at Cartman, his smile has vanished and he's staring down at his sneakers.

"I don't know" Cartman shrugs, his voice becoming pained and quiet, almost guilty "I guess she was scared. I was all she had and she just didn't want to be lonely. When I moved out she didn't talk to me for a week... She just wanted me to stay a kid forever and for nothing bad to happen but she can't do anything about that, can she?"

Kyle shakes his head, an overwhelming sense of protection stirring angrily. And as he tries to focus on the road he can't push away the aching thought of driving and driving until the sun skimmed the edge of the horizon. To just find an empty place where nothing mattered, everything could be easily forgotten and everything was rewritable, simple to erase, where you could start anew and pick up the broken pieces and it would be that way for eternity.

Instead he pulled over, without saying a word. He just needed to stop and breathe and try to convince himself that he was acting ridiculous. But he couldn't.

"Kahl?" Cartman asked, his voice barely a whisper. He didn't take his eyes off him, he watched Kyle breathe sharply, heavily, saw the tears sting his bitter, emerald eyes, becoming more numb and detached as the minutes slipped by. "What's wrong?"

"Everything, everything's fucking wrong" Kyle snaps, his voice trembling and he starts to bite his nails, staring out of the window as the cars whizzed past and the humid rain fogged up the highway.

Kyle takes a deep breath, but it does nothing to make him feel better "Cartman, I-"

"Yeah?"

"I'm scared" Kyle admits, feeling relief and fear tear him apart, his heart rate accelerating, triggering more tears to form, slipping down his face. He climbs over to the front seat and falls into Cartman's embrace, resting his head on his shoulder, letting his tears dry against his shirt. The fear begins to soften, being replaced by this tender need and he loses himself in the way Cartman holds him. How he can feel him wrap his arm around his waist and how he softly strokes his neck. While Kyle runs his fingertips over Cartman's arm, just wanting to touch him and be close to him and remember every single detail.

"I'm scared too. But it's gonna be fine, trust me." Cartman replies, never realising how Kyle could bring these lucid, vulnerable emotions out in him and how's he never loved him more.

"You need to fight, okay? Cartman, you can't ever leave me. I know I don't say this enough but I lo-"

"Hey" Cartman says strongly, grabbing Kyle's shoulders. But when he sees those weak, glistening eyes something breaks in Cartman, making this hurt so much more. "I will never leave you, I swear."

Although Kyle wants to believe him, he knows it's not that easy and that Cartman's words don't have the strength to make this all go away. Kyle bites his lip, his breath stammering before he presses his forehead against Cartman's, viciously locking their stares, weakening when we sees that Cartman's rich golden brown eyes are wet with tears. Kyle murmurs, in a broken, wounded way "Promise me, you need to promise me" gritting his teeth when he feels more of these stupid tears run.

"I promise, I promise" Cartman says over and over, kissing Kyle's nose, his chin, his neck, kissing him anywhere, just to make him smile. Kyle whimpers when their lips finally clash, hard and hungry, bruising each other with this determined, greedy passion. Sealing their promise perfectly, heartbeats and moans twinned with the sound of relentless rain, beating against the windows.

Kenny never knew how to talk to Kyle about this whole situation. Only because death never bothered him, it didn't elicit any feelings from him except maybe nostalgia and annoyance. When his own father died when he was 25, he didn't shed one tear at his funeral. Well, Kenny hadn't spoken to his father since he divorced his mom 8 years before, but still, he could've feigned some weak sense of loss, but he just couldn't.

So when he saw Kyle, sitting on the couch, with a glass of whiskey in his hand, staring into space and his eyes bloodshot from the effort of crying, it made him feel rather uneasy. Plus he hated the smell of that damn drink, too many memories of childhood slithered into his mind, his dad stank of it, the walls were stained with it,bottles were thrown during slurred, drunken fights.

Though once, when Kenny went to visit Cartman in hospital, he felt the true extent of what was happening. It didn't make him sad, it just terrified him and he realised that watching someone die was just as bad as being the one whose world is closing in on them, the fight being released and being drained of whatever makes you human. Cartman simply asked him, without any strong surge of emotion or hesitancy "Ken, what's it like when you die?" and that question hurt Kenny, Cartman was the only one who was aware of the power he possessed, it was a kind of underlying bond within their friendship and now it was coming back to haunt them in the worst way. Kenny didn't want to answer him, he just said "Scary. But you kind of just feel this sense of relief and peace that makes it kind of bittersweet. But once it starts to become a reoccurring thing, then it becomes a bitch."

"I just feel so pathetic Kenny, everyone is acting so careful around me, pretending that I'm this fragile little heartbroken mess and maybe I am but, I really don't want to be." Kyle says, his voice sagging and with every word he gets more exhausted.

"I don't think you're pathetic. I think you're the opposite, you're just normal. Who can blame you for being depressed? You were with the guy for fourteen years and you spent your entire childhood with him, it's a big thing. Having someone be with you everyday and having all these memories invested with them and then suddenly... They're just gone."

Kyle furrows his eyebrows and tries to process what Kenny has just told him. That word. Gone. It's like a bullet that claims every breath.

Meanwhile, Kenny can't take the silence anymore, it's making him way too uncomfortable "What do you want me to say Kyle?" Kenny sighs, almost pleads, just looking for something to work with here. So he can at least try to make Kyle feel better. Apparently dinners at Sizzler didn't cut it.

"I don't know... Just tell me how you feel! Nobody has talked about how they feel and that matters too!"

"Well, obviously I miss him!" Kenny replies, rather impatiently, but his carefree smile hid it well "I, I miss him a lot" His voice getting quieter and Kyle can't help but think that he was watching something unravel. Things becoming clearer.

"You do?" Kyle mutters.

"Yeah, he was my best friend. Of course I miss him. Stupid little things remind me of him and make me laugh but then I feel bad for laughing because it doesn't seem funny anymore." Kenny smiles, albeit rather weakly. "I think about how disappointing it is that Evie will grow up and won't remember him."

"He hated kids" Kyle laughs quietly, smirking when he thinks about how there were a lot of things Cartman hated. It feels strange and unsettling when this warm, soft ache tugs at his chest as small stitches of sights and sounds settle in the emptiness.

"He liked Evie though, I could tell. Although he would never admit it." Kenny replies, smiling slightly.

"Maybe she won't forget, she doesn't have to." Kyle shrugs, he had pondered this for a while, with every sleepless minute that made time irrelevant.

"What?" Kenny asks.

"Well, memories can be kept alive. If you want them to be." It was a small revelation but it felt like an achievement and Kyle was determined to let himself believe it.

Kyle found it surprising how easy it was to forget that Cartman was sick. Though that destructive word marred their consciences, sometimes it just felt irrelevant. The more it was uttered, the less daunting and frightening it became, the more information and phone calls they received from doctors and specialists, the more they became adjusted to what was going on. Platitudes started to lose their sincerity, instead becoming recycled and meaningless, drilled into heavy stone.

Still, Kyle couldn't shake off the fact that they were floating atop something deeper, unknown, possibly terrifying. After all, they hadn't been to the hospital yet, they hadn't started treatment. Kyle didn't know how much longer he could take the waiting, the over-thinking, the restlessness of it all. Most of all, he hated how Cartman refused to acknowledge how big of a deal this all was, that pretty soon his treatment would be starting and the unnerving reality of it all would become a regular presence in their lives.

When the day finally arrived, it was nothing like Kyle pictured. There wasn't any sense of fear or anticipation, it was just this silent denial and too much wondering. The doctor had told them that they were going to start the first course of treatment at 12:30 PM. Until then it would just be two hours of waiting in a hospital room that smelt like ammonia, the muted noises of the hallways, doctors and nurses talking, the hurried squeak of shoes against a linoleum floor, the TV entertaining itself, not caring that no one was really paying attention to it. Nurses occasionally came in and asked Cartman if he was comfortable, making small talk with him and Kyle and though Kyle appreciated it, he didn't feel like exchanging pleasantries with any well-meaning nurses. He was getting more nervous and irritated as the minutes went by.

"Will you please just pick something?" Kyle snaps, as Cartman keeps flicking through the channels on the TV. He knows Kyle hates it, which makes it even more fun.

"Sorry, I didn't realise it was your time of the month again..." Cartman smirks, rolling his eyes.

"Honestly, could you please stop being such a giant douchebag?" Kyle asks in a flustered, frustrated way, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Hey, you look like Stan when you do that." Cartman remarks, him and Kyle exchanging soft smiles before they both break the stare.

"Oh yeah, speaking of Stan, him, Gary, Kenny and Wendy are coming to see you tomorrow."

"Really? Wendy and Kenny are coming? She looks like she's about to pop that little brat out any minute now."

Kyle laughs, even though he knew Cartman was being serious. "Her due date is in 2 weeks. If I were them I'd be freaking the fuck out right now."

"It's a girl, right?"

"Yeah."

"Poor thing hasn't got a chance, she's tainted with bad blood. It doesn't matter if Kenny and Wendy scrape enough cash together to send her to some fancy private school and give her the best of everything, she's still redneck spawn. She'll be pregnant by the time she's twenty, living in a trailer park and singing Dolly Parton songs at open mic nights."

Kyle shakes his head and says rather sternly "That's your best friend's baby, you insensitive asshole, if Kenny heard you talking about his kid like that he'd kick you in your fucking nuts."

"Kahl, listen, I could kick his white trash ass any day of the week. Even if I am sick." Cartman replies, with all that arrogance which makes Kyle's heart skip a beat. He didn't know how old he was when he started to find Cartman's attitude incredibly endearing and attractive than just completely annoying.

"Hey" Kyle says softly, standing up from the uncomfortable chair he was sitting on and instead perching himself on the end of the hospital bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Good" Cartman says, furrowing his eyebrows in a confused way.

Kyle sighs in exasperation, of course he would say that. "Did you read any of the stuff I found for you? About how this whole thing is gonna work and what the actual procedure is?"

"Yeah. I didn't get all the stuff it said, you know, all the medical bullcrap. I know it's gonna make my hair fall out, I'm gonna be vomiting a lot and that it's gonna hurt like a bitch, but besides from that I'm fucking ecstatic that my veins are gonna be pumped full of poison." Cartman replies and through the bitter sarcasm Kyle can see the fear and the vulnerability eating away at him.

"I know it's not gonna be easy, but it's for the best, and you'll get through it." Kyle smiles reassuringly which makes Cartman smile back, so sincere that it makes Kyle want to cry.

But in a second, Cartman's smile changes from sincere to wicked as he grabbed Kyle's wrist and tugged him forward, effortlessly bringing him closer, the two of them entangled. They giggled childishly together as the space between them closed, the air becoming harder to find, becoming more content with the warmth of each other and the comfortable, close proximity they were in.

"You really think I've got what it takes?" Cartman smiles, running his hand through Kyle's hair, loving how those red curls felt beneath his fingers.

"Sure. You're my superman, right?" Kyle replies, and it's in that moment that Cartman realises how beautiful Kyle is. He always knew, but now it just seemed so clear and overwhelming.

Cartman nods before smirking "Whatever you say, Jewboy"

Kyle wraps his arm around Cartman's chest. Falling asleep to the slow, continuous rhythm of the hospital and Cartman's heartbeat. Calm and peaceful.

That was until he's woken up at 12:30, by a very confused looking nurse.

Remission

A lot had happened since Cartman was in hospital and now he was in remission, he had to begrudgingly ask about his friend's lives, not out of politeness, but rather because he couldn't stand not knowing things and being somehow excluded.

Still, the big news was Evelyn Karen McCormick, who was born at 2:00 AM on July 12th, two days early. She was two months old when Cartman went into remission and so the first thing him and Kyle planned on doing was visiting her. Much to Cartman's annoyance, he hated babies, too dumb and attention seeking for his liking.

Cartman and Kyle always felt immature and intimidated around Kenny and Wendy, simply because they were the most adult, committed couple they knew. And Cartman and Kyle never thought they'd actually associate "adult" and "committed" with Kenny McCormick. The happy couple married at 25 and were discussing baby names and child-proofing their house while Cartman and Kyle were still spending their Fridays and Saturdays getting wasted at numerous, almost identical bars in Denver and spending their Sundays in bed. It was on those lazy Sundays that they often discussed the possibility of moving out of South Park, maybe going down to City Hall to make their relationship official... But they never talked about kids. Even though the idea of adopting a baby, like his parents adopted Ike, was becoming more of an appealing idea to Kyle as the years went on, Cartman hated the idea of having a kid, he thought he wasn't "father material".

But sitting in Kenny and Wendy's living room, with baby toys scattered everywhere and the undeniable smell of baby powder and formula lingering, Kyle didn't feel less disenfranchised with the idea of parenthood, in fact, it made that need even stronger. Especially when Evie was so adorable, her small, frail fingers clasping her dad's sleeve, the small, curious smile that would appear on her face when you spoke softly to her.

"Wow, Kenny she looks so much like you..." Kyle smiles. Even though Evie had her mother's striking, violet eyes, she had her father's golden hair. Already it was starting to become dark and sandy in colour, not the usual angelic fairness that most babies have. It wasn't just that though, Kyle just saw Kenny in every little gesture the baby made, it was weirdly nostalgic.

"Poor kid" Cartman jokes, muttering under his breath, getting bored with all this very quickly.

"Hey fuck you, asshole! At least I've done something productive with my sperm!" Kenny laughs back and though it elicits boyish laughter from Kyle and Cartman, Wendy rolls her eyes and sighs.

"Could you please refrain from talking like that in front of our child?" She snaps, running an impatient hand through her messy black hair. Kyle had never seen Wendy look so tired and on edge, but she never showed it in front of Evie, she was always so happy and loving. Both Kenny and Wendy looked exhausted, but it came with the territory of being new parents.

"Sorry" Kenny smirks.

"Look, I have to call my mom so I'll leave you guys alone" Wendy says, trying to leave as fast as possible, though she appreciated the visit, she really wasn't in the mood to entertain guests. However, before she left, she leaned in close to Kenny and whispered sharply "Ask him, okay?"

"What was all that about?" Cartman asks after Wendy had left, he honestly didn't care what it was about but he didn't know how many times Kyle had lectured him on how important it was to be nice to his friends.

"Well, actually, it's kind of a big deal." Kenny starts, rather uneasily "The thing is, Wendy and I are thinking of getting Evie baptised pretty soon and we were thinking of Godparents. Wendy's already asked Bebe to be the Godmother and we were wondering if..."

"What?" Cartman asks, starting to get pissed off. While Kyle is just dying to see Cartman's reaction to the inevitable question.

Kenny looks around the room, helplessly trying to find a way to say what he wanted to say without looking like a sentimental douchebag.

"Seriously, spit it out poor boy!"

"We were wondering if you would be the Godfather?" Kenny asks, smiling hopefully.

If Kyle wasn't so touched by the fact that Kenny had actually asked Cartman, he would be laughing his ass off. Cartman just looks at Kenny with disbelieving eyes, raising his eyebrows in a way that says "Have you lost your fucking mind?!"

"Kenny, what the fuck are you talking about?" Cartman asks as calmly as possible.

"I want you to be Evie's Godfather." Kenny replies with a little more confidence than before.

"Seriously? You honestly think Wendy's going to be okay with that?! That bitch can barely stand me!" Cartman snaps, while Kyle rolls his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Okay, first of all, don't call Wendy a bitch and second, well, it took her a lot of convincing but she understands why it would mean a lot to me!" Kenny replies, a sincere, yet slightly uncomfortable smile softening his features. Cartman may think he's this cold, mean-spirited person but Kenny knew exactly how to get his way.

"Look, I'm flattered and all, kind of, but you're making a huge mistake! Why can't you ask Stan or Kahl?"

"Can't. I'm Jewish." Kyle shrugs, before smirking at Kenny.

"Really, Kahl? You're gonna use that excuse now? You really think you can use a minor technicality to get out of this?" Cartman snaps, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes in annoyance. "Okay, if kosher boy here can't do it, then why don't you ask your brother?"

"Pffft, please, I haven't spoken to that dickhole since my dad's funeral. Plus, he's a raging alcoholic, which I'm cool with but he just doesn't help himself. He was never like a real brother to me, anyway! Hell, the only person I ever gave a crap about was my sister!"

"What about Stan?" Cartman asks, holding Kyle's hand and squeezing it tightly, almost protectively.

Kenny sighs defeatedly, increasingly becoming more agitated before he said "Yeah, well, Wendy thought that he would be a good choice too, but Eric-"

"Please don't call me that. You know I can't stand it." Cartman interrupts, glaring at Kenny with venomous eyes.

Kenny carries on, unfazed, he's become more than used to this "You're my best friend, dude."

Cartman smirks at Kenny, bitter and smug, he knows that Kenny hates admitting that to him. Although they were best friends, they very rarely declared it, most of the time they bothered the hell out of each other, but there was always this intangible, unexplainable bond that always made it through the petty, stupid stuff.

"Fine" Cartman mumbles through gritted teeth "I'll be the dumb Godfather, you white trash piece of shit..."

"You're doing a really nice thing here" Kenny smiles, the most genuinely grateful smile Kyle had ever seen on anyone.

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it 'kay?" Cartman sighs, before glancing at his future god-daughter and rolling his eyes.

~x~

When Kyle and Cartman heard that Clyde and Bebe were going to host Thanksgiving, they prepared themselves for the worst. They had already been witnesses to Clyde's high school Christmas parties, which could make anybody feel suicidal, so there was no doubt in their minds that Thanksgiving would be any better. Besides, it was going against tradition.

Stan and Gary were the usual hosts for Thanksgiving, well, Stan didn't do much except watch football and occasionally and half-heartedly ask Gary if he needed any help, praying that his boyfriend would kiss him on the cheek and reply in his chipper, exuberant tone "No honey, I've got it covered". Gary excelled at many things and cooking was one of them, the table was always laden with colourful, roasted vegetables, delicious gravy in an antique gravy boat, a beautiful centerpiece which Gary made himself and of course, a plump, juicy turkey that was cooked to perfection, the meat falling seamlessly onto the pristine China plates. But it was Gary's excitable, festive nature that made you feel at home. In short, Gary was somewhat of a domestic Goddess, something that Wendy and Bebe were often jealous of.

This year, with Wendy too distracted with the baby to really go all out for Thanksgiving, Bebe took the reins. Insisting, in a snide, patronising fashion (which Gary was too nice to notice), that he take a break from his hard work and let somebody else do the honours.

Kyle and Cartman toyed with the idea of going to one of their parents' house for Thanksgiving. But Kyle would rather suffer through an eternity of Clyde Donovan Christmas parties than have Cartman and his parents in the same room, to say that they didn't get on was an understatement. Meanwhile, Cartman detested the thought of having to spend Thanksgiving with his mom and her new boyfriend, Chad, who was the same age as Kyle and Cartman. Plus, Cartman pointed out, his mother was drinking so much vodka these days that the Turkey would be basted with it.

So, with their glasses half empty, they begrudgingly accepted the invitation to Bebe and Clyde's dinner, along with Kenny, Wendy and Evie, Stan, Gary and unlucky-in-love Butters, who was turning up without a date this time. Maybe Butters was starting to become cynical, a thought which unnerved everybody. If Butters (who was one of the most optimistic, happy-go-lucky people they knew) was starting to lose hope, then what would happen to the rest of them?

The dinner turned out to be better than everyone expected. Bebe watched proudly as everybody laughed and marvelled at the wonderful food that she had spent hours slaving over, hoping that Gary's homemade pumpkin pie wouldn't outshine her achievement.

"Okay, everybody, I would like to make a Thanksgiving toast!" Bebe called, getting up from her seat at the head of the table, spilling some of her wine as everyone turned to her. "Thank you for coming! Really, from the bottom of my heart! It was a lot of pressure since Gary is so amazing but I think I pulled it off... But honestly, this has been a really eventful year, filled with things to be thankful for. I'm thankful that I have a wonderful husband and amazing friends, I'm thankful for my beautiful god-daughter, little Evie, because, let's face it, we need some more oestrogen in this group. The ratio of guys to girls is way off. But also, I'm thankful that our resident jackass, Eric Cartman, is getting better and will never have to set foot inside that hospital again!"

This was met by vivacious cheers and drunken laughter, while Cartman smiled awkwardly, hating how sentimental everybody was being, especially since it was about him. But Kyle loved it, everybody's optimism and relief eroded all the niggling doubt and obsessive worrying that had clouded this joyous revelation. He could tell Cartman felt the same way, he felt uncomfortable saying that this horrible, destructive intruder had vanished forever. Because he wasn't sure of that. No matter how hard he tried to believe it. But in this moment, it seemed like good luck and hopeful chances had won and this was a victory worth celebrating. If only for a minute.

"So, Bebe sent you over here, huh?" Kyle mumbled, not even attempting to meet Clyde's uncomfortable gaze.

It was then that Clyde realised exactly why he didn't want to come over here in the first place. Why he was so hesitant about Bebe's suggestion that Clyde counsel Kyle and help him deal with this grief. But Clyde knew all too well how stubborn and defensive people become after death has claimed something, somebody so precious to them. Kyle was better off sleeping all day, drinking until he couldn't process the taste anymore and subjecting himself to the pain of regurgitating memories than forcing himself to believe in something that he clearly wasn't ready for. It's unfair to lie to someone in his position, tell them that things are going to be okay when it takes a hell of a lot to get to a place where you genuinely feel secure again. Kyle clearly wasn't ready yet and Clyde didn't want to make things worse. And even though Bebe understood that, she said that it wouldn't hurt for Clyde to talk to him, since they could relate to each other on this.

"I know you've probably heard this a million times Kyle, but I really think you need to talk to somebody" Clyde said, his voice going shaky. He could see disturbing little nuances in Kyle that reflected how he was all those years ago, when his mother passed away. That confused, broken expression that's caught between frustration and sadness, those eyes bloated on memories, making everything else seem irrelevant. "Leave me alone, you don't understand" is written all over your face, even though inside you're begging for some guidance out of this labyrinth of constant anguish.

"I don't need to see a fucking therapist, alright! It's a waste of time." Kyle snaps, that feisty, stubborn nine year old that Clyde remembers so vividly appearing out of the thick shadows.

"I'm not saying you need to see one right now, I'm just saying that-" Clyde pauses, sighs in exasperation before continuing "Look, I know we're not the best of friends but this is what we have in common. Which is really depressing, but it's true! And I can't help you, you need to find your own way of dealing with this, when you're ready. No one's forcing you to be okay by tomorrow, no one's forcing you to be okay at all, everyone's worried about you that's all."

"Then why did you come here?" Kyle sighs heavily, rolling his eyes.

"I came here because even though I can't help you it doesn't mean I can't still listen to you." Clyde answers, a small, albeit false, smile appearing on his face.

How much time have you got? Kyle thought, he had so much to say. Mindless things he just wanted to shout, just so the words could be peeled off his conscience and he didn't have to think about them ever again. He thought of that day in the car, when he cried until his eyes were sore and his head was pounding, he thought of all those days in hospital, the bad days; when Cartman refused to talk to anyone, because he was too scared that he may cry, but Kyle still didn't leave, he thought of the good days when it seemed like nothing was wrong and Kyle realised he was so good at pretending, that he had convinced that honest voice deep within him that things were okay. Kyle thought of those purgatory, semi-blissful months of remission, 12 months of forced optimism and praying at every waking moment that these halcyon days would never end. Forever has a lot of obstacles Gary's words being twisted and manipulated in Kyle's mind, used as comfort but also used as a weapon when his perspective became as bitter as the whiskey he was constantly drinking. Poisonous thoughts seeped in through the blinding, artificial sunshine that was struggling to shine, when remission was cut short and it was back to square one again. When the cancer became more violent, moved rapidly, grew larger and larger, greedy and ruthless. While Cartman just gave up, started to lose, too tangled up in a cancerous web to do anything about it. Though he promised Kyle he wouldn't give up, there was nothing else he could do, he had no idea. He was lost, stranded, stuck, exhausted. So, for once in his life, he didn't care if he lost. Even though it was painful to think he would break his promise to Kyle, he had no other choice.

So now Kyle was here, fighting his own battle and losing spectacularly. He couldn't help but think how tragic this all was. They were once kids, little boys, with foul mouths and big expectations but then they became teenagers, selfish and wrapped up in each other. Watching the unadulterated stars and thinking things they've never thought before. But then the years go by and anniversaries get celebrated and suddenly they're talking about the future, of leaving this small town and going wherever they wanted. Still, maybe buying a house here wouldn't be so bad after all. Being on your own may be terrifying, but they're not totally alone, they have each other, right? And this is their home and they can do whatever they want. Summers and winters carelessly go by, life goes at a comfortable pace but then there's a roadblock and it refuses to leave until it's taken one of you. But how can it? How can it expect to take one of you and leave the other behind? It doesn't need an answer because it simply doesn't care. If only it were merciful enough to make it quick, painless so you don't have to watch the agony of the person you love more than anything in the world all unfold, right before your eyes. You stay and you watch and you cry and you comfort because you love him, love him, love him, love him and that's all there is. The most palpable piece of each other that gets left behind. Things felt like they couldn't get any worse, but they did and everything starts to hurt. Staying in that fluorescent room all night felt like torture because there's nothing you can do to stop this. And sickeningly, you start to regret ever promising to stay here, by their side, until the end.

Clyde's voice slices the snowballing thoughts, which actually makes Kyle thankful that someone is here to talk to him. If he was alone he'd start to have a panic attack and that was the last thing he needed.

"Sorry, that was really vague, ummm... How about you tell me about his last few months? If you want to, you don't have to, I mean, I was just-"

"It's fine" Kyle interrupts, just to make Clyde stop babbling "Uhh, well, I guess it wasn't what we were expecting..."

"What do you mean?"

"Like, when he was first diagnosed, the doctor said he would be fine. That Cartman would just go into remission, keep having tests but he'd be fine. He wouldn't have to go through it all again and we could just move on from it. We thought it would be a dark spot that made us stronger, something we could put behind us and not talk about unless it was necessary, you know?... But then after two months of chemotherapy, he was okay and the doctor officially said he was in remission, that he was free to leave. And, oh my God, I have never been so relieved in my entire life, because even though it was only two months, it was a painful two months. He couldn't eat, he barely slept, his hair started to fall out and he was fucking distraught so he had it shaved, but he still hated it. He was just so depressed and this idea of him, the only part of him that I had ever known, the part that he truly was just kept slipping away and it killed me. Just watching the man, well, the boy, I fell in love with fade away, watching him struggle, was horrible. I wanted him to rip on me, I wanted him to call me names, I wanted him to be Cartman again. The worst part was sitting there, being there all the time, day and night and not being able to help him... Ever since I was a kid I hated not being in control of things and not being able to do something about things that were hurting the people I cared about. I've always felt like he's my responsibility. When we started dating, when we were sixteen and he was starting to go off the rails. I mean, he was always a bad kid with a reputation for getting into trouble but you could just see this anger and confusion he had worsening as he was getting older, getting more sure of himself and even more arrogant, but I knew it was a cry for help... He may think that he's misunderstood, but I've had him figured out since we were nine years old."

Kyle pauses then, realising this is the most he's talked to anyone in a while. The most he's ever shared. When he talks about the past, all those years ago, he's blindsided by those teenage memories, all the jokes and fights, phone calls and lovebites that they tried so desperately to hide.

"But anyway, those two months passed, yet we still didn't want to say everything was fine. We honestly didn't know what the fuck was going to happen so we decided to focus on the present and not worry too much about the future or what might happen. But that's easier said than done, I suppose. But, by some amazing miracle, a year went by and nothing happened. So I guess we let our guards down then and broke the rule we made for ourselves. We just enjoyed that year, it was incredible... I remember at Evie's christening, Cartman was going to be her Godfather and in the car on the way there, he said to me 'Dude, I'm really fucking scared, what if I drop the baby?!' and I started laughing but he was serious. He was like that sometimes, he'd say something so hilarious or so stupid that you'd think he was joking, but he wasn't. So I told him he'd be fine and when we got to the church and the ceremony started, he looked so disinterested, but there was this moment when Evie looked up at him, making this cute little noise and all of a sudden she grabbed the lapel of his jacket with her little fingers but he smiled this soft smile at her and laughed under his breath, and I just, I don't know, I felt proud of him... But that was all before he became sick again and immediately I'm freaking out so I took him to the hospital and it felt like a nightmare, being there again. A part of me kept saying that if he could get through this once, he could get through it again. And I so wanted to believe that, but the doctor told us it was more aggressive and that they would absolutely do the best they can... And this time it wasn't just two months, it was a year and a half that I had to watch him get worse and worse. I had to watch his skin go pale again, I had to see him get weaker and skinnier and see his eyes and his cheeks get hollow. I was scared to touch him because I thought I would break him, that's how fragile he looked. He wasn't that kid anymore, he didn't feel like my boyfriend anymore. But I still fucking loved him so I knew he was still there, I knew that he was there with me... There were bad days and good days. The bad days were when he wouldn't talk to me, look at me, he'd occasionally whisper 'sorry, Kahl, I'm so sorry', I'd start to feel my eyes fill with tears and I'd say 'Don't be sorry, there's nothing for you to be sorry about' and then I'd go to the bathroom and cry, asking myself all these questions in my head. He didn't notice I had left, I'm glad of that... Then there were the good days where that spark inside him, that made him who he was, ignited and we would talk and laugh and pretend that everything was fine. He went through this phase though, that lasted about four months, where he was doing amazingly well, the doctors couldn't believe it and during that period he decided that we should get married, while he felt he could have the strength and the ability to leave the hospital. So naturally I said yes because I wanted to make him happy but also because I kind of thought we would get married some day anyway. Our wedding day came and I didn't think about him passing away, I didn't think about cancer or what was next, I just thought about our vows and our wedding song and how perfect he looked. He didn't look sick, I could've kidded myself that there was nothing wrong, the way he smiled and held me when we had our first dance, but... But if I had let myself forget what was going on, then being reminded of it would hurt so much more, you know what I mean? But then obviously, it all started to slide down, you could see how much this fucking terrible disease was eating away at him and breaking him. He would never let it show, how painful it was and how upset it was making him. After a while, about a few months before he died, they just stopped treating him. He wasn't responding to anything, or anyone, not even the doctor. The doctor would ask him a question and he'd ignore it, I tried to answer for him, but I couldn't bring myself to. All that strength that I had somehow managed to find, to make me pull myself together, eroded when they said to me 'We can make him comfortable, but that's all we can do.' The doctor said it so knowingly, he could see that there was no use fighting the inevitable. That was probably one of the most devastating moments of my life, to know that we were going to lose after all this heartache, it broke me. But I still stayed, I couldn't bear to leave him alone. But, naturally, he had more visitors than me. Even though all he could do was smirk and mumble, barely keeping his eyes open when people talked to him. Stan and Gary visited, even though Stan hates hospitals and doesn't deal with that kind of stuff very well. Gary was just being his usual perky self, not even the fact that his friend was dying could make him cut it out. He sat by Cartman's bed, reading scriptures from the Book Of Mormon out loud to him, I didn't stop it. What would be the point? Cartman didn't seem to mind and if it was Gary's way of coping then who am I to judge?... Kenny and Wendy came by with Evie, I think she was two years old by then. Cartman would try his best to smile at her, though he was exhausted. Obviously, you and Bebe came and saw him too... But dear Christ, his mom was the worst. She was there just as much as me. Sitting by his bed, dabbing her eyes with tissues, she had, like, a dozen packs of Kleenex tissues. She'd talk to him like he was a little kid again, calling him her 'baby' and her 'little poopsikins' sometimes he'd turn his head and whisper 'Hey mom' and that would be enough to make her smile. She knew how difficult it was for him to even reply to people."

Kyle stops, his heart hammering and he tries his best not to cry, the detail of it all was making him ache. But it was relieving, turning all these bitter memories into stories and knowing someone was listening to him.

"One night, well, 2:00 AM, I was trying to get to sleep on the chair in his room when suddenly I heard him mumble quietly 'Kahl, come sleep here' and hearing his voice kinda scared me. First of all, I said no, I didn't want to disturb him and all those hoses and wires. But then he insisted so he made room for me and I lay down next to him. It felt so natural, even though we hadn't shared a bed in a while. And we hadn't slept in a single bed together since we were teenagers and still living at our parents' houses. It was strange how, even though he was so pale and looked so cold, he was actually warm. I couldn't shake off that horrible thought of waking up the next day and he wouldn't be breathing. Luckily, he was alright but a few weeks later..." Kyle's breathing stammers, tears slipping down his tired face and he can't bring himself to talk anymore. It was saddening to think that he could still feel Cartman next to him and hear the heart monitor's steady rhythm.

"What?" Clyde asks softly.

"He was gone" Kyle whimpered, simple and quiet, smiling sadly though he hated himself for it.

"No" Clyde whispers, swallowing the lump in his throat "Kyle, he's not gone. I can tell that you will always keep him alive. Not just for you, but for us. You're so... dedicated. That you'd never let anybody forget him. Isn't that right?"

It's then Kyle smiles, that long forgotten flutter of hope making this easier. He bites his lip, laughs under his breath before staring at the ring on his finger, seeing the gold wink back. "Yeah. It is."

Another day in paradise. Stuck here again. It seems as though they never fully slipped out of this hospital routine. Except things are a lot more certain, and not in a good way. Hope and optimism has been replaced by acceptance and belief that they can keep it together.

Just because Cartman seemed fine, didn't mean he was. Kyle had to remind himself of that everyday. Just because he was joking and talking to the nurses, instead of groaning at them to leave him alone didn't mean that he was making a miracle recovery. Just because he was eating again didn't mean that he wasn't wasting away at a terrifying rate.

Still, it was another normal day for Cartman and Kyle. Arguing over what to watch on TV, ripping on each other in between those moments where they actually got on.

In amongst the buzz of sitcoms, old recycled jokes and canned laughter from an invisible audience, Cartman calmly said "We should get married."

"What?" Kyle gasps, excited yet unsure, the nausea he was feeling not helping matters.

"I'm talking about getting married. You and me." Cartman shrugs, as if it's the most normal thing in the world to just announce that you want to marry someone while you're lying in a hospital bed.

"Cartman! Seriously, what the fuck are you thinking?" Kyle couldn't help but shout, totally aware that his voice had gone all shrill and weird, scowling when Cartman started to laugh at him.

"I don't know!" Cartman snaps, rolling his eyes before trying to explain "Look, before you start giving me one of your gay little speeches, I'm not doing this because I'm scared about this whole situation, okay? I'm not doing this for the wrong reasons, I promise."

"Then why the hell are you doing it?" Kyle shouts, he could've punched Cartman, he didn't know why he felt so angry. That question was something he had probably imagined Cartman asking him or vice versa, it just feels so insane to even consider something like this now.

"Seriously?!" Cartman shouts back, almost laughing at the ridiculousness of Kyle's question, what the fuck does he mean?! "Are you really that retarded?"

Kyle doesn't answer, he just feels this stupid, childish blush spread across his face and he digs his hands deep into his jacket pockets. He can't even look at Cartman and that smug smile that he wears so well otherwise he'll end up either laughing or hitting him.

"I'm asking you because I fucking love you!" Cartman can't believe he just said that. It wasn't as if he hadn't told Kyle he loved him before, he just never meant it so much as he did now. He had never exclaimed it like that, it had never hurt him in this beautiful, addictive way.

Kyle started to smile like an idiot then, not just because he had gotten Cartman so worked up and pissed off, but because, after all this time, he still couldn't believe Cartman had such strong feelings for him. He couldn't get enough of hearing that confession, after all this time.

"I know you do" Kyle snickers, biting his lip and feeling his face getting warmer.

"Kahl, I've wanted to ask you for a while, but I just kept putting it off because... Well, I don't know why. But I'm asking you now and that's all that matters, doesn't it? Didn't you ever think that it would happen some day anyway?"

"Of course I did!"

"So" Cartman sighs, smiling impatiently and anxiously "Do you wanna marry me?"

"I'm not gonna answer you until you ask me properly" Kyle teases, loving how Cartman looks when he's annoyed, like a spoiled kid who can't get what he wants.

"Fine" Cartman scowls, before smiling a saccharine smile and asking "Kahl James Broflovski, will you marry me?"

"Yes" Kyle answers, never feeling so sure of anything in his life and though the shock of it all hadn't quite sunk in yet, he could still imagine that wedding day and how amazing it would be. Still, even though he knew this was inevitable, that it had to happen someday, he couldn't quite process the thought of him and Cartman being engaged. It seemed so wonderfully insane, that they were going to get married. And it took all the strength he had to not cry and laugh and kiss Cartman and never let him go.

He hugged him instead, pressing each other close, their frantic heartbeats descending into one, ecstatic, affectionate pulse that sent a reverb throughout both of them, feeling like it was the closest they'd ever been in a while. It was almost like they were daring to breathe, hesitant to ruin this perfect moment, not even talking. Cartman realised how much he missed Kyle at that moment, even if they saw each other everyday, Cartman just felt so distant and detached from him. Only being to look at him without being able to hold his hand, pull him in close and kiss him, hating how they couldn't be normal. Like they used to be. Maybe on their wedding it would be different. If he wasn't so worried about looking lame or girly, he would tell Kyle everyday how beautiful he thought Kyle was, to let Kyle know that he was thinking about him.

"Everyone's gonna freak out when we tell them" Kyle murmurs into Cartman's shoulder, kissing his neck.

"Let them freak out then, I don't care" Cartman replies, in a way that makes Kyle smile. "Crap, Kahl, it doesn't have to be a Jewish wedding does it?"

Kyle rolls his eyes and breaks away from their embrace, but he still stays close, so he can reach out and kiss Cartman with ease if he wants. Kyle quickly gets lost in those rich, fervent Golden Brown eyes that never seem to fade, never losing that mischievous, charming gleam.

"No" he mutters sweetly, shaking his head "Not if you don't want to."

"Good, because I'm never ever stepping foot inside a synagogue, you could give me all the money in the world and I still wouldn't grace that God forsaken building with my presence."

"You realise you're marrying a Jew, right?" Kyle sighs irritably.

"Yeah? So?" Cartman shrugs.

"Whatever. But I have one request, okay? If we're not going to have a Jewish wedding can I at least do that thing where you stomp on the glass? I've always wanted to do that."

"Sure, Jewboy" Cartman smiles, wrapping his arms around Kyle's waist and pulling him to his lips.

The memory box.

Kyle had been tempted to throw the damn thing out for a while, which was sick and wrong but he felt that it was just an anchor, letting him drown when really he just wanted to be able to breathe again. At the funeral, the thought of it laying there, somewhere in the recesses of all the other junk that was in the attic, was gnawing at him. He had no idea what to do with it and he had forgotten most of the stuff he had put in there in the first place. He knew that curiosity was bound to get the better of him someday. He just hoped it was in five, ten, fifteen years from now, when time had healed his wounds as much as it possibly could and he had some insane, masochistic urge to make himself bleed again.

The origins of the memory box were quite unclear, all Kyle remembered was hearing that making those stupid things helps with grief and distracts you from this huge, aching crater in your life. He had other things to worry about besides decorating a box with glitter and string, but he figured it wouldn't hurt. Ironically enough. So he strolled into the hospital unannounced and started making this memory box, urging Cartman to join in, but he was too tired and said that the whole thing was "lame" after a few days of studying Kyle, who was hard at work, trying to see the paper he was cutting through blurry eyes, Cartman asked if he could put something in the box which Kyle gladly agreed to. Finally happy that Cartman was being somewhat enthusiastic about the idea.

Though, in true Cartman fashion, he was very secretive about the pieces of creased, lined paper he put in the box, if not to remain mysterious, then to piss Kyle off to no end. And it worked. Because even now Kyle got frustrated not knowing the small fragments that Cartman had left.

So now, after searching through the attic, Kyle sat in his living room, with the box on his lap. An agonising, nervous knot tightening in his stomach as he stared at the damn thing. Willing himself to open it. He smiled fondly at the things inside, mostly photos and stupid things that they both had kept over the years. There was a ticket stub from the first movie they went to see as a couple, the movie was terrible but they made out for most of it so it didn't turn out to be a bad date. There was a pamphlet from the hotel in Las Vegas, where they went for Cartman's 21st birthday and there was even a wedding invitation, crisp and white, Kyle bit his lip and ran his finger along the rough surface, his eyes stung, ignoring the heavy ache in his chest.

Kyle braced himself to look at the pictures, there was such a large amount of them and he feared that looking at too many would only get him more upset. They were all Polaroids, Cartman had found that camera in a dumpster when he was nine and had kept it ever since, he always made sure he had it at his disposal (mostly so he could take embarrassing photos of their drunk friends at parties and use them for revenge and humiliation purposes).

All it took was one glance at his face. The face that Kyle missed so much, thought about and dreamt about. The one face that he would never, ever forget. One look to make him well and truly broken.

They're sixteen in the picture, Cartman is wearing his football jersey, his arm slung around Kyle's shoulder, the magnesium, celestial glow of the sun floods the corner of the picture, the startling flash bringing out the hues in Cartman's eyes. Kyle could count every colour, all the honeys and caramels and that beautiful gilded quality that Kyle found extraordinary. It shocks Kyle to see himself smiling so genuinely, so warmly and he prays he can go back to the way he was. If he can crawl out of this trap.

Kyle studies Cartman, smirking to himself thinking how at sixteen he still had some puppy fat clinging onto him, but as he was getting taller, his weight loss was becoming more apparent. His smile is so carefree and kind of obnoxious and he looks rather proud to be holding Kyle.

"Hi" Kyle whispers gently, feeling the tears come thick and fast as he glides his fingertip along the soft material, touching Cartman's face and convincing himself that it's real. He can actually feel Cartman's skin under his fingers, the memory of touch was so vivid it could never fade. He smiles dreamily at the distant sound of Cartman's voice, making some sarcastic comment and murmuring Kyle's name the way he used to.

The more he looks at the picture, the more obvious it seems that, even at such a young age, they are totally in love and crazy about each other. It makes it much more painful to stare.

But there were more pictures, more memories to be laid out in front of him. And he wanted to bring all those pieces together, to see Cartman smiling at him again, that lovely, infectious smile. Some pictures are faded, some are fresh, cataloging their relationship from start to bitter, unfair finish. There are photos of them at prom, football games and graduation, looking young and naïve and totally wrapped up in each other and nothing else. There are photos of them at parties, Las Vegas, various trips and places they had been to, Kyle can't even remember the exact places they had gone to, where they had driven and how long they stayed, but in his head it was always sunny and he liked that he had at least one, happy scrap of memory to cherish.

There were even photos from their wedding day, brightly lit and romanticized, painting the picture of your average fairytale couple, though Kyle knew they were anything but.

His favourite photo was one that they had cut out of the yearbook because they thought it was pretty ballsy for Craig (who was the designated school photographer at the time) to actually put that caption underneath their group picture.

Kyle vividly remembered that June day, nearing the end of the year, where it was unseasonably hot and him, Stan, Kenny and Cartman decided to ditch class and instead sit on the bleachers doing nothing than actually doing something productive. Amazingly, three hours of goofing around flew by and the lunchtime swarm started to emerge, which they didn't really care about. However, Craig's nasally, dull voice pierced their conversation with an obnoxious "Hey gaywads, I gotta take your picture for the yearbook" after asking why, Craig rolled his eyes and said, exasperated "I'm supposed to get pictures of all the friendship groups and unfortunately that means I have to take a picture of you fucking losers", this was met by "Fuck you Craig, cock sucking cumslut" (Cartman), "Just make it quick, Craig" (Kyle) and "Dude, I know it must suck having a two-inch schlong that no chick would ever want in any of her orifices, but please, don't take it out on us innocent people who have done nothing to offend you or your toothpick wiener" (A surprisingly eloquent Kenny). But, naturally, Craig stoically ignored all these comments. While he was setting up his camera, he decided to provoke even more anger by saying "You know it's funny, everybody has seemed to have made new friends except for you guys, it's been the four of you ever since you were in preschool, isn't that a tad pathetic?" and "So Stan, still trying to convince your holier-than-thou Mormon boyfriend to give his flower to you?". Before Stan could get up and kick that stupid asshole in the nuts, Craig deadpanned "Smile, douchebags" God, they hated Craig.

Kyle felt himself laugh, something which had become a rare occurence lately as he stared at that yearbook picture. Stan looking thoroughly pissed off, Cartman looking bored and uninterested, Kyle smiling weakly and Kenny pulling a goofy face, cigarette hanging limply from his mouth. The caption underneath read "The Fabulously Faggy Four"

Then Kyle stumbled across something that made him feel sick. Their wedding tape (Well, DVD). He had never watched it before, but Butters (who took it upon himself to film the ceremony) assured him it was all edited nicely. And he wanted to believe Butters, he just couldn't bring himself to watch all those neatly organised clips that showed just how happy he used to be. If he was going to go through with this, he was going to need to get a lot drunker.

So after drinking every last drop of whiskey in his glass, pushing through the blistering, numb ache in his head he watched the DVD, with bated breath.

The first note of With Or Without You, their wedding song, trickled down the hollow grooves in Kyle's heart as captured moments flitted across the screen. The camera panned across the pews, all their friends and family listening intently, beaming at the two of them, these pitiful kids who have hung on until the very end. Kyle didn't know if it was admirable or pathetic. Maybe it was both. Kyle smirked at Stan and Kenny, who were caught between smiling and crying, as they watched their best friends get married. Kyle remembered how at midnight, when the party was simmering down, all four of them sat on the empty stage, staring out at the abandoned confetti and balloons and were scared by how fast they were growing up and how they still felt like little kids.

Kyle saw himself on the screen, looking at his groom lovingly and saying his vows, Kyle felt himslef smiling as he mouthed along to the words, he could never ever forget. He even knew every word that Cartman said too, because it managed to break him and take his breath away at the same time. But it's only now, when the past is being played out for him, that Kyle realises how sick Cartman actually looked, pale and skinny, with his eyes hollow and his smile frail, though nuances of the real him ignited now and then, reassuring Kyle that his spirit was never washed away with the drugs and the disease.

Then the camera flashes to the two of them stamping on the glass, the faint roar of cheers breaks out of the music. The camera closes in, focusing on one very special moment. The kiss. The sweet chaste kiss that made them both beg "please don't leave me" if Kyle could share one last kiss with Cartman, he would be happy. Nothing has ever seemed so certain.

Then it's just a flurry of people talking, hugging and dancing, champagne glasses being lifted and toasts being made. Every time the camera flashes to the newlyweds, they're huddled close together on their table, laughing and talking, their lips brushing occasionally. Kyle feels his heart drain of grief when he sees Cartman holding Evie, in her lavender dress which brings out her eyes, her wispy blond hair in ringlets. Maybe Kenny was right, Cartman did like Evie, the way he smiled so warmly at her and the way they both waved at the camera proved that.

It was then that Kyle saw something peculiar in the box, something that he had absolutely no recollection of putting in there. It must have been one of the things that Cartman had secretly hidden in there. Out of curiosity and a weird sense of victory for finding it, Kyle had to see what it was. A crumpled up piece of hospital notebook paper, a sour yellow colour, faded slightly and when Kyle smoothed out the soft creases, he smirked at seeing Cartman's scrawly handwriting.

Kyle's hands started trembling, gripping the paper so tightly he could've ripped it. But then, why shouldn't he rip it up into tiny, insignificant shreds and throw it away? A part of him wanted to forget he ever found it and yet a more tangible side was telling him to read every single word.

He knew what it was. Even if he didn't want to admit it to himself. He remembered asking Cartman if he had written his vows yet and Cartman said that he had, but he wanted to write them again because what he had written was too depressing for a wedding. Maybe this was it. It might have been too depressing, but it might have been something he wanted Kyle to find some day.

Swallowing that sickly block of fear, Kyle started to read, his heart violently spewing bullets.

"Kyle, out of all the ways I imagined this day being, I really didn't think it would be like this. I know you probably don't believe me, but I used to think about our wedding a lot, I just could never bring myself to ask you, in case you said no. Because even though we've been together for thirteen, nearly fourteen years and I've been in love with you ever since I could remember, I still think that we shouldn't work. That you're not good enough for me and that you'll finally come to your senses and realise you shouldn't be with a guy like me. I'm not a good person, I'm the complete opposite but you love me in spite of all that, you love me because I'm not perfect, because I don't try to pretend to be somebody I'm not. In a way, we're a lot alike, that's why we've been together for so long, if one of us was weaker or stronger than the other, then we would've quit and said goodbye. I can't imagine being with anybody else, I don't want to be with anybody else. Even when we were little kids and we fought each other and hurt each other and I convinced myself that I hated you, a part of me was always scared that you would disappear one day. Without you Kyle, I don't know who I am and I don't want to ever find out. I know it sounds like the lamest thing anybody could ever say, but you're my soulmate. Always have been. We're attached to each other in this weird intangible way and that's why we fell in love and became a couple so easily, it was only a matter of time. And through all these years that one thing remains certain: That we belong together and to lose something that is so damn good would be the biggest mistake we could ever make.

I never thought I would fall this hard, maybe I thought I was too selfish to be truly crazy about someone. Then you came along. I was always so jealous and in awe of you, I was just so confused that someone who could make me so angry and who I hated so much could also make me feel so happy and complete and take my breath away whenever they acknowledged me. Because to me Kyle, you're so perfect. You're funny, stubborn, smart, tough and so God damn beautiful that it's unfair. You're such a good person, so caring and compassionate. I'm weirdly proud to say that you're my boyfriend, well, fiancé. I know I've said that I'm a bad person, but you didn't try to make me change my ways, you accepted me and without even knowing it, you've helped me. I'm not saying I'm reformed or anything, you've just made me, well, a person. And I guess that's enough.

Things have been different lately and not in a good way. You can just take one look at me and know that I'm on borrowed time and I'm so scared of leaving you. Of putting you through all that hurt. I'm so sorry. I promised to be your superman and I hate that I've let you down, it seems so unfair that I'm leaving you when we have the rest of our lives to be happy. But I know you'll make me proud, I know that you'll fight and get yourself through this. I want you to remember that you're stronger than you think you are and I have so much faith that you'll be okay, better than okay. I want you to move on, but don't forget me. Whatever it takes to make you happy, please just do it.

As much as I want you to miss me, as much as I want you to think about me and remember every little detail and moment we spent together, I also want you to look at somebody else the same way you used to look at me. Because that look was probably the most beautiful look I had ever seen, your smile and your eyes always amazed me and would let me know that you loved me. It made me crazier about you, made me lose myself in you all over again. You always looked so happy and I hope that you'll be able to offer that to some lucky guy who knows just how much he has when he wakes up next to you. I take a lot of things for granted, but I've never, ever let myself take you for granted. Not even once.

I don't know if heaven or hell exist, I don't know where I'll be going, but I don't care. Because I'd rather close my eyes and when I wake up, I'll be sixteen again and I'll be home. I'll be lying next to you and we'll be looking up at the stars. I love you, Kyle, always have and I will for eternity."

"I love you too." Kyle whispers, almost indecipherable through the thick tears that made ink morph into tadpoles "I love you so fucking much"

His heart seizes and swells with every pained word that stumbles out of his mouth. "I won't forget you, I promise, I promise. I'll be there with you, I swear, we can stay that way forever"

Kyle crosses his arms, protecting his heaving ribcage that just produces needless, wasted breaths that feel greedy. He cries into a cushion, feeling even more pathetic when he feels the cycle of saltwater dry on his skin, roll sneakily onto his tongue without permission.

The noises from the TV, the soft, lilting melody of their wedding song, the brief clips of speeches and conversation disintegrate as they hit the wall Kyle has put up for himself. It's just useless white noise that he wants to forget.

"You didn't let me down, Cartman. Please don't think that way" Kyle whispers, realising then that Cartman' won't hear or answer him. He realises that he's in their house, on his own, talking to himself and that he's swamped in the worst kind of silence.

Kyle sits up, dabbing his wet face half-heartedly with his skinny wrists, trying his best to not look at the screen, though the noises feel like a siren's call.

Still, all he can think about is that '"look" Cartman wrote about. The look that Cartman loved so much, scared that he may never find somebody who could ever elicit that look again. Cartman was the first and only person he had ever fallen in love in with, dated, slept with and now he was left stranded in a crowd full of people, supposedly potential partners who would try their hardest to get through to that unspoiled person Kyle once was.

Kyle wondered whether anybody would want to take the time to try to heal Kyle's wounds, break down the boundaries, make Kyle forget the pain that had become so familiar. Fill that massive, gaping void. Though Kyle doubted anyone could. No matter how hard they tried. Would anybody have the strength, patience and ability to thaw that suffocating ice? Who would spend all that time , just for it to be wasted? Kyle wasn't that special, was he? He was just a regular guy with a shitload of baggage.

Kyle feels that familiar onset of a panic attack, rolling his eyes in annoyance and incredible defeat.

That was until his eyes accidentally catch the screen. The song is still playing and two figures are dancing slowly and closely, moving to the music with their eyes closed in happiness and serenity, the soft, blissful hues of the lights are dimmed and flowing silently. Kyle can hardly believe it's him and Cartman.

Though Kyle can still remember how fast his heart was beating, how strong Cartman felt when he pressed him close and the words they whispered and giggled.

It's then that Kyle sees it. The look that Cartman was talking about. He couldn't have missed it. The smile caught between laughing and sighing, the stare that spoke a million words, about how they were the only two people who exsist, that this was a moment they would never forget and that the only thing that was certain were there feeling for each other. How, for better or for worse, through all the disagreements, fights and bad qualities they possessed, they loved each other and that was all that mattered.

Kyle smiles and feels his heart bursting with admiration and pride at the two figures on the screen. Who were never too far away and would live forever in his heart and mind, telling him that he could be happy again. The nuances of that look started to creep back, even if it was tinged with sadness, it was a start.

But even if Kyle did fall in love again, somewhere in the distant future, even if he did build his life up with that person and he was happy again, that cherished look would never appear.

Because that smile and stare could only ever belong to one person. The superman who Kyle would never, ever forget. Who could never let him down.