Title: Pink Bandana

Author: Mrpointyhorns

Author's Email:

Rating: G

Status: Complete

Part: 1/1

Summary: Kyle helps Stan mourn.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Matt and Trey. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

"It happened in the middle of the night. He crawled under my bed and died," Stan said to his friends at the bus stop.

"Aha! Stan that is pathetic. Are you crying?" Cartman poked Stan's tear with a fat finger.

"Shut up, Cartman! Losing a pet is very traumatic," Wendy scolded. She pulled Stan away from Cartman's cruel touch and pressed him close. She cooed him softly. "It's okay Stan."

"One of the mice, that lives in my wall, died! Yesterday," Kenny sniffled and rubbed his eyes. He looked hopefully towards the rest of Wendy's girl friends. "It was traumatic."

"Aww Kenny." Butters pat his back sympathetically.

"God you guys are fags," Cartman said loudly, again.

"Hey guys sorry I'm late. I had to walk Ike to the elementary because he missed the bus."

"Speaking of fags."

Kyle did not even blink. His attention like always was on, Stan. It was not unusual for him to be wrapped up in Wendy's or Wendy's friends' arms. Six of them at once, that was a new record, but it was not unusual. Stan was one of those people that looked like he would tolerate being coddled and cuddled, and as far as the girls were concerned, Stan was one of those people. He was too polite to ever push them away.

Kyle stepped back from the group at the bus stop and let the girls have their time with Stan. When the bus pulled up, he grabbed Stan's wrist, and pulled him away from the group of girls. "Do you want to ditch?"

Stan nodded. His bottom lip bit between his teeth, he was defeated. It was too easy for them to slip away from the bus stop. Their stop was too crowded and those students were not the tamest. They simply crossed the street and began walking the other way.

They crossed into a field a half a block away, and trudged through towards Stalk's Pond. Stan sat down in the morning dew coated on the bench, sticking his hands in his pockets he shivered.

Kyle brushed off his spot before sitting down beside him. He let his elbow touch Stan's, but kept his hands in his pockets as well.

"Sparky died last night." Stan's words hung in the air, frozen like the meaning.

Kyle breathed in deeply. He shifted so that he leaned more heavily against Stan. He gave Stan the opportunity to be comforted, but he did not force him.

"Did you bury him?"

"No. I told Mom. She said Dad would take care of him while I was at school."

"He'll probably just leave him at the dump."

Stan's choked and began to cry, for real this time. His shoulders shook, until his hands fell from his pockets and his head hung. He had a picture of Sparky, his pink bandana, dead at the dump. That was not where Sparky would wanted to be buried.

"What about next to Max?"

"Max?"

"Wasn't that his boyfriend?"

Stan rubbed his nose with the back of his hand and looked at Kyle. "Is Max dead?"

"Yeah remember. Some kids took him up to Sadie Hill, and tied him up to a tree. Then they took turns letting him get mauled and killed by those tough, straight dogs."

"When did that happen?"

"Last week. Ike told me about it. He was crying and sobbing. He knew some of the kids, said they're the meanest sixth graders ever. So we went together to bury him."

"You didn't tell me."

"I thought I did." Kyle stood up from the bench and brushed the lint away from his pants. "Anyway I'm telling you now. Do you want to bury your dog?"

Stan nodded standing up. It was no wonder Sparky had died. He must have been so heartbroken. Had he witnessed what had happened, or had he just figured it out when his boyfriend was no longer waiting for him at the corner? Stan was usually very attentive to his dog's feelings but he must have missed something in the last week.

It was not the first time the boy's had ditched; they knew that Sharon would be on her way to work by that time. So they did not bother sneaking. Stan led Kyle to the backyard, where Sparky's body was on the porch. He was wrapped in an old towel, but his nose peeked through.

"I carried him downstairs this morning." Stan admitted. The tears fresh in his eyes, but they did not fall.

"Can you carry him, over to Big Gay Al's place?"

"Of course I can. He's my dog." Stan wrapped the towel around his dog tighter then before. He lifted the body carefully. It was forty pounds of dead weight. It was awkward and difficult but he was determined to make it all the way to Big Gay Al's.

Kyle did not offer to help him, even when they had to stop three times for Stan to stretch out his arms. They made it to Big Gay Al's midmorning. They did not see the big man tending to the animals that took refuge there, but that did not mean he was not there.

Kyle took some shovels from the tool shed. He led the way down the fence of the property and at the corner off from the road. There were large stones marking the grave and fresh wild flower on top.

Stan put Sparky's body near the fence. He shook out his arms and took up a shovel. "Who brought the flowers?"

"Maybe Ike, but probably Al. Unless Sparky did it."

Stan smiled softly. It was no joke. His dog was not a normal dog. He preferred his pink bandana to any other even though dogs were red/green color blind and he fancied other boy dogs. He was not like the normal dog that just humped everything in sight whether it male, female or dog, he truly preferred males. And ever since Max was abandoned on the highway outside of South Park, Sparky had started a monogamous relationship. He was Max's alpha female, and he would not cheat on him. So it may have been Sparky who left the flowers on Max's grave.

Kyle stripped of his coat and joined Stan in digging up the earth, just to the right of Max's grave. They dug until to about three feet.

Stan staked his shovel into the ground at the head of the grave. He wiped his brow and let out a sigh. "I don't know if I can do this."

"You're not letting him go. You're just honoring his body." Kyle dropped his shovel. And went to pick up the corpse, Stan should not have to face putting his dog in the ground. He gently put the dog in the ground and looked up at Stan. "Do you want the towel?"

"I don't think Sparky would like it."

He removed the towel and put it on the ground beside the grave. "And the bandana?"

"I want it. But is that selfish?"

"I don't think so. Sparky would understand. You want a part of him." He took off the bandana; Sparky's throat looked naked, bare. It was just how he was on the inside, empty. Kyle crawled out of the grave, and gave the bandana to Stan. Stan wrapped it around his hand and wrist clutching it tight.

"I'll give you a minute." Kyle walked away from the grave. He needed to find some rocks anyway; otherwise the body would rise up when it rained.

He returned to the grave with a few heavy rocks, stacked on top of each other. Stan was kneeling, his back turned to him but he knew that Stan w as not crying. He put the rocks down at the foot of the grave and went to stand beside his friend.

Stan turned his upper body to him and hugged him around the waist. He pressed his face into Kyle's hips, and rubbed his nose against his pants. Kyle sympathized with him, and stroked his head, pushing long strands of hair behind his ear and following the trail down his neck. He massaged the back of his head, and let Stan get the support he needed.

Stan pulled away after several minutes. He wiped his nose on the back of his hand. Then he stood up and started to fill in the grave. Kyle helped. Stan sniffled back snot during the entire task, and Kyle made him sit against the fence while he placed the rocks on top of Sparky's grave.

When he was finished, he returned to Stan. "Anything else?"

"No. Let's go." Stan pushed away from where he was leaning against the fence. They walked around the town for a little while, but eventually found their way back to Stan's room.

Stan lay down on the bed, and Kyle helped him take off his shoes and jacket, before lying down with Stan. He rested his head on Stan's chest, his arm on either side of the other boy. One leg lay between Stan's and the other lay to his right. He had his eyes closed, and he could feel Stan's breathe evening out. He knew the moment Stan fell asleep and he knew the moment when he stirred awake again.

Kyle propped himself up on his elbows and lean in kissing Stan on the lips. "He's better off, you know, being dead, instead of being alive and alone."

"I know." Stan smiled a small half smile. "It's true what they say though."

"What's that?"

"A boy learns all of his life lessons from his first dog: death, life, love."

"And to take pleasure, in licking your own balls."