A/N: Takes place a little after the Kenny Dies episode
Kyle's POV
Nobody had ever really taken Stan that seriously. Even I, myself, didn't take him too seriously either. He was basically just this normal guy who didn't seem to belong with the rest of us nutjobs in the group. Cartman the Fat Nazi, Me the Almost-Always-Angry Jew, and who was Stan? He could be the Normal, Unserious One. Where exactly would that fit into this odd group?
Well, casualties like that aside, I certainly didn't expect to be woken up from a doorbell at one in the morning. Thinking it was Cartman, I threw a dreidel out the window. He'd usually run or insult me. Just as I was expecting Cartman to start screaming what a stupid Jew I was, I was surprised when there was nobody there. Confused, I stuck my head out my window as the doorbell rang again. A quick turn of my head revealed that Stan was actually standing on the doorstep.
"What the hell?" I thought as I exited my bedroom and entered the living room. I opened the door and Stan looked up. I expected him to say something, but he shoved his hands in his coat and wouldn't look at me. I decided that apparently I had to be the first one to say something. "What?" I asked.
Stan didn't reply. He didn't say anything for another long period of silence after that, confusing me even before. "Is something wrong?" I asked again, breaking the quiet and stillness of the silence. "Stan? Dude, talk to me." I said, growing paranoid of the way Stan was just...standing there. It was making me uncomfortable. I stepped outside, quietly shutting the door behind me. I instantly tensed when I realized that I was standing outside in my pajamas and a hat. I told Stan to wait one second and went upstairs to pull on my trademark orange jacket and green pants.
"Stan, really, is something wrong?" I asked. He still just stood there. "Dude if you're not going to talk, then I'm going back to bed. It's 1 AM and it's fucking freezing out." I said, starting to open my door, until Stan finally extended his arm to touch my shoulder. It tensed up, since I wasn't expecting anything to be happening here. I turned around to face my super best friend. "That was creepy as fuck man." I said and uneasily laughed. Between another long period of silence, I decided to shut the door again and anxiously tug on my gloves. I didn't exactly know what to do, with Stan being all silent, and me being tired. He's fucking lucky that we're on winter break, so I can sleep in tomorrow.
After another short while, I tapped my foot on the ground, now growing slightly impatient. I turned around yet again and put my hand on the doorknob, wanting to open it and return to my warm, cozy bed, before Stan grabbed my other free hand. I rolled my eyes, and, again shut the door and turned to face him. "Look Stan, I don't fucking have time for this, and you're being super fucking creepy right now, and I'm tired. So you can either talk to me and let go of my hand or you can talk to me and let go of my hand!" I said, hopefully sounding mad. He did let go of my hand, and he did talk to me eventually.
"Follow me." He simply stated, and that I did. At first, I probably sounded like twenty questions asking questions like "Where are we going?!" or "Am I going to be back by six AM?" Stuff like that. Halfway along where he was leading me though, I knew where we were going; We were going to Stark's pond, a favorite hangout of ours. Even though my vision was slightly impaired by the darkness of the night, I could make out the always-frozen over pond, and the big log we always sat on next to it.
"All right, one last question: Why are we here? Or, let's make this two questions, or better yet three. Why the hell-"
"I didn't get to say goodbye..." Stan said, and, out of the corner of my eye, I saw him quiver. I sighed, remembering how it had happened so soon, and how Cartman must've done the most jackass thing of all time yesterday.
"It's not your fault Stan." I tried to reassure him.
"But it is! I could've gone and visited him, and what did I do?! I moped around and did nothing! And now he's gone and he probably remembers me as that one asshole who never even came to see him once!" Stan practically burst into hysterics and I almost flinched. Seeing all this energy burst out at once was like seeing Craig smile; Incredible, yet shocking. I couldn't really say anything, so I listened to Stan rant on about how he was a horrible friend and should've done something for a good ten minutes. He had changed from not wanting to talk to being a chatterbox within an hour.
Eventually, after he was done with his mini-meltdown, he ended up crying into my chest while I put my arm around him. This particular event had really only happened one other time; when I was trying to comfort Stan and myself about Chef being gone. It's still sad to think about. The crying sounds stopped after a short while, and I, despite telling myself that it was weird, ended up shedding a tear with Stan. Kenny was actually gone. Stan switched positions so that he ended up leaning into my shoulder with the rest of my arm still around his shoulders. There, we sat in silence, staring around at the bright stars, or the luminescent moon, or even the transparent pond of ice that laid a few feet from us.
We stayed for a while, Stan and I. We sat on the log in silence, not moving. As the moon beamed down, I realized that maybe, this is what super best friends do instead of just best friends. Best friends most likely would've shut the door on the other's face a while back, but super best friends were willing to sit down and go out in 20 degree weather at one AM just to sit with the other in silence.
