Mana here. Raisins, yay! I decided not to put this in Fire because it simply did not follow the theme. I'm feeling really uneasy about this, because it probably sounds extrememly clichéd and overused, but also too away from the norm of ze South Park. I imagine it might be a little OOC, but do try to enjoy.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own ze South Park.
Forever and Always
Stan locked himself in his filthy bedroom and pulled the shades down. He crawled into bed, despite the fact it was only 4, and Terrance and Philip was on.
Sad love songs were sobbing from his radio. He glanced at his nightstand, where a photo of Wendy holding a flower that he had kept dear since the day she gave it to him sat.
I love you forever.
-Wendy
Stan shifted in his blankets, facing away from the nightstand, away from the primary source of pain.
--
"Cartman, can I ask you for a favor?"
Cartman dropped his plate of cake, not caring that the frosting was all over the dirt of his backyard, far from edible.
"What did you just say?"
"I need a favor," Kyle said through his teeth.
"I see. You're finally sick of your mom?"
Kyle ignored him and kept his eyes to the ground.
"I'm gonna regret asking you this, but I'm really serious."
"Don't worry, Kahl," Cartman rolled up his sleeves and took out a knife, "I'm already set up."
"No, fucktard. It's about Stan."
Cartman relaxed, disappointed.
"I'm worried about him. Ever since Wendy broke up with him, it's like he lost touch with the world."
Cartman did realize this to be true. Although he can totally rip on Stan in the worst ways possible, there was a part of him that felt it wasn't as fun. He'd call him a pussy and Stan would mumble, "yes. I know."
In the old days, Cartman would rip on Kyle all the time, which would make Stan pissed off as well. But now, even when Cartman got the upper hand and won all their little insult contests, it did get boring just making one pussy fag angry rather than two.
"So what's your proposition, Kahl?"
"You're really good at photography, Cartman, and I just need you to do one thing. For Stan."
Cartman sighed an effortful sigh.
"Well, this will cost you. You'll have to suck my balls for thirty, perhaps sixty seconds, depending on how good you want it to be."
"Fuck off," Kyle turned around, "I knew I was a dumbass for asking you."
Cartman grabbed his shoulder.
"You know I'm screwing with you, asshole. I wanna help that gaywad too."
Kyle gave a rare, in-front-of-Cartman smile, though he did resent him referring to Stan as a gaywad.
Cartman led Kyle to his room, and took out a professional's camera. He set up a projector-like apparatus, and flipped through several backgrounds.
"What are you interested in?" Cartman asked as he passed a waterfall backdrop.
"Whatever you think is good."
"Ok, let's use this one. He'll like it."
Cartman led Kyle to a stool in which he sat on.
"This will take a while."
"Whatever dude. I just want this to be perfect for him."
--
After the photo shoot Cartman and Kyle descended to Cartman's basement and took out a blank chart. He scribbled words and symbols of no particular meaning to the stranger's eye.
"Ok here's the plan."
Cartman pointed to the chart.
"Six-o-clock, the Marshes will be out at a prepaid dinner at Bennigan's. The living room window will be unlocked, so at six ten, we sneak in. You will go up to Stan's room and put it on his pillow. Then you go back downstairs and escape, got it?"
Kyle nodded. This plan wasn't as complicated as his others, thankfully.
"I just really hope this works."
"Sure as hell better. I spent all afternoon making it perfect."
At six ten on the dot, Kyle and Cartman had successfully snuck into the Marsh house, where not a soul stirred at the moment. But as soon as both boys made it to Stan's bedroom, Cartman turned in the opposite direction.
"Well, I should be going now," Cartman headed back out the door.
"Dude!"
"I think you can take it from here, Kahl. It's too much for me."
"Lazy fuck."
Cartman left, but Kyle shrugged, not caring.
He stood for a moment in the middle of Stan's room. It really had changed since the last time he was up there. The blinds were shut and empty Cheesy Poof bags and Sprite cans littered the floor. His dirty clothes piled up in a corner, appearing to not have been washed for days.
Kyle walked over to Stan's bed and took a seat on the disarranged sheets. His pillow had been stained with tears.
The picture of Wendy on his desk caught his eye. He picked it up gently and sighed.
"Kyle?"
Kyle jumped up in surprise, and gasped when he saw Stan at the threshold of his room.
Stan looked horrible. His face was sallow, despite him being out. His hair had grown significantly and his eyes were dull.
"I thought you were out at dinner."
"Dude what are you doing? Get out."
"Stan I really think we need to talk."
Stan saw the picture of Wendy in Kyle's hand. He lunged forward and grabbed it from him, stuffing it in his coat pocket.
"There's nothing to discuss," he spoke in a cold voice.
But Kyle did not seem at all intimidated.
"Stan this is stupid. You've been locked in your room for days."
"That's none of your concern."
Kyle stood up, feeling emotion.
"You have to get over her."
"Shut up. It's none of your business."
"It is so my business! I am worried out of my fucking mind about you! How do you think I feel when you keep bailing me to go cry in your room! I've been doing the best I can because I know she fucking hurt you, but you also have to do your best and forget about that bitch!"
Tears ran from his puffy eyes before he could realize it, but he didn't care.
Stan closed his eyes.
"Kyle, get out. You're pissing me off."
Kyle gently exited Stan's room, but slammed the door. It sounded as though he had taken off running.
Stan sighed. He picked up the nearest object from the floor and chucked it at his nightstand, shattering his lamp.
Goddammit.
Stan's eye was caught by a white envelope that wasn't there before. Perhaps something Kyle dropped, he thought.
He knew looking through someone's mail was not the most polite thing to do, but he opened it up anyway. Inside was a picture, but not just any ordinary picture.
The photography featured a very sleek looking Kyle wearing a dark red silk shirt with his same stupid green hat. A small smile was etched to his face. His eyes were friendly and sparkled perhaps with the use of camera trick. The background was none other than Stark's Pond.
I love you forever and always.
-Kyle
Stan blinked and suddenly felt like a dick. Kyle was trying to help him. He did care.
He dashed out his room as fast as humanly possible. There was only one person he wanted to see right now.
Kyle sat back against a large fallen tree at Stark's Pond his face buried in his knees. Rain was pelting his orange coat as the skies grew darker into the night.
Tap.
Kyle looked up.
Stan was out of breath and just as soaked as he was.
Kyle sniffed and blinked, wiping tears away from his eyes.
"Look, Stan. I'm sorry. I should have known better. It wasn't any of my business at all and I was being selfish, wanting you to feel better for my sake."
Stan looked as though he'd been slapped. Without a word he knelt down next to Kyle and wrapped him tightly in his arms.
Kyle gasped and slowly wrapped his arms around him as well. He felt drops of warmth that wasn't the rain fall onto his neck and rubbed Stan's back gently.
"Dude," Stan whispered croakily, "Kyle, I am so sorry."
Kyle felt tears return to his eyes, but he was smiling.
"It's ok now."
After a few more minutes they pulled apart.
They stared at each other with teary eyes and giggled upon how silly they must have looked.
"Wanna spend the night at my place? Play Okama and catch up and stuff?" Kyle asked, helping Stan up from the wet ground.
"Sounds pretty sweet."
Kyle put his arm around Stan and headed in the direction towards his house.
"Dude, girls are so fucking weak," Stan said, making a face, "I'm never dealing with them again."
Kyle laughed and pulled Stan closer to him.
Meanwhile, Cartman who had been watching the scene play out through the trees smiled in accomplishment.
"Sweeeeeeeeeeeeet."
XX
AHH finished. I felt this was very rushed...blah. I'm not good at writing descriptions. Surprise Kyle-Cartman alliance, le gasp. Does he like Style as much as I do??? Tell me what you thought, ok?
