I decided to put the second chapter in ASAP because I didn't leave much of a cliff hanger on either of these and this chapter is relatively short. I would still like people to read and review! I'm always glad to have peoples opinions on how to better my writing! Thanks again!

See chapter one for Disclaimers; it will alwasy be the same...

Persevere

Chapter 2

Stan laid down his controller with a soft thump and witnessed his character be blasted into smithereens. With a sigh, he clutched his chest and felt its heavy beats and closed his eyes in contemplation. Could it be Kyle causing these attacks? But why?

"Dude!" Kyle smiled triumphantly, pumping his arms in the air. "That's the second time I beat you! I never beat you!"

"Kyle?" Stan started, digging deeper into the vein of his thoughts. "We're best friends, right?"

"Of course," the other boy replied, starting to look worried. "What's the matter, Stan?" Kyle put one hand on his friend's shoulder and Stan's heart lurched painfully, causing him to take a deep breath.

"I've been thinking…."

"Ha, you don't do that often enough," Kyle laughed, withdrawing from Stan on the couch. Instead of the usual heavy beat, the dark haired teenager's heart felt like it sank further down his chest for every inch Kyle pulled back.

"Stop joking, dude," Stan pleaded, his voice still and serious. "I really mean it. I've been thinking ever since this afternoon."

Kyle looked away and coughed. "Does this… does this have t-to do with those fags from that meeting?"

"Why do you do that?" Stan inquired, angrily.

"Do what?"

Stan swung his legs up onto the couch and crawled toward Kyle, putting his face mere inches away from his friend's. "Call them fags when you know it hurts their feelings. You're supposed to be the mature one, Kyle. You should know better."

Kyle blushed in embarrassment, averting his gaze. "I didn't think it was that big of a deal-"

"Not that big of a deal?" Stan practically shouted. "Do you even know what a real faggot is? It's a bundle of sticks tied together to be used as fodder for fire. Fire that was used to burn witches, heretics, and homosexuals at the stake."



"I didn't know that," Kyle mumbled, obviously ashamed. "But, aren't you being too sensitive? I mean, why relate with them anyway?"

"Why should I be friends with you?" Stan asked. "You're a Jew. I mean, why relate with Jews anyway?"

"Dude," grumbled the red head. "That's not even fucking fair."

"But do you see what I mean?"

"I see that you're really starting to scare me!" They both became quite, the soft glow the television the only source of light. It pulsated and illuminated their eyes. Stan found himself getting lost in his friend's emerald eyes. They gleamed brightly and shimmered like gems.

Stan lowered his own eyes, his glance lingering on Kyle's supple lips. They looked so soft and pure. Untouched. For a second, Stan wondered what they felt like and leaned in closer.

"This is queer, right here." Stan blinked, snapped from his lustful thoughts. "Now you're really scaring me."

"Yeah, well…." The teenager tried to regain his composure and backed up from the other boy. "I might as well, seeing as you can't scare me back."

"Oh yeah?" Kyle protested, thankfully forgetting all that happened… or might have happened.

"Fuck yeah!" Stan chortled, getting up from the couch and entering the kitchen. "You want something to drink?"

"Do you have Coke?" came the reply.

"No Coke, only Pepsi," Stan called back. "My mom's favorite."

"Nah, no thanks." Stan continued to work in the kitchen. He thought he'd do something nice for his friend since they were about to start their homework. He knew what a drag that would be. He searched the freezer and pulled out two candy bars from his personal stash. They always tasted better when frozen. His blue eyes fell on the vanilla ice cream that was suspended on a shelf, and an idea struck his fancy.

"Do you like strawberries? We've got a shitload, and I'm gonna making a sundae." He waited but there was no answer. "What about chocolate syrup?" No reply. "I'm gonna take that as a yes," Stan teased, raising his voice, thinking Kyle had gone to the bathroom.



Reentering the living room, Stan held up the two bowls, a spoon hanging from his mouth. "We've onry got rone spoon, so ve'll have to sher," he called out through his gritted teeth. Stan surveyed the area, but there was nobody there. He spat out the spoon and set down the sundaes, placing his hands on his hips. "Oh, ha ha. What are you gonna do now, jump out at me?"

Still no answer. It had been a good fifteen minutes and Stan knew that Kyle didn't have that kind of patience for a stupid prank. With a sigh, the raven haired teen plopped down onto the couch and started eating. "Enough, asshole, you're ice cream is gonna melt."

No answer. Not even the sound of footsteps coming or going. "Kyle?" This was getting serious. Stan looked around again… and chocked on a gasp. How long had the front door been open? It was so dark in the living room, he couldn't even tell until now. He rushed to the door and peered outside. No sign of his friend anywhere. "Kyle, are you still in the house?"

Nothing. "This isn't funny, dude!" Stan cried, hysteria creeping into his voice. Memories starting flooding back into Stan's mind and he breathed hard on the brink of hyperventilating. With a jolt, he sprang for the kitchen and drew the closest knife to him. He cautiously began to ascend the stairs, not daring to make more than a whisper. Someone was in the house….

When Stan finally got to his room, he pushed the door open slowly. His eyes grew wide as he stared into an open window, his curtains flapping in the night time breeze. It was the return of a nightmare… what if what happened to Stan also happened to Kyle? He would never be able to forgive himself!

"Boo!" shouted Kyle as he jumped from the bed in front of Stan. The taller boy staggered backwards with a blood curdling shriek. He jabbed the knife outward, nearly stabbing his friend in the gut. "Dude, it was a fucking joke!" Kyle growled, realizing how close he was to getting gouged.

Stan curled into a ball, panting with fearful gasps, tears streaming from his face. Kyle looked on in wonderment, staring at his deflated friend. Finally it clicked. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry, Stan. I totally forgot about… that."

"Forgot!" Stan howled. "You forgot? I will never be able to forget, Kyle! Do you even know what it's like?"

Kyle got down on his knees and hugged Stan with all his might. "God, Stan, I'm really sorry. I'm so sorry."



"Sometimes-" Stan began, clenching his jaw. "Sometimes I just wish that everyone knew what it was like. What it was like to have someone break into your room and… and t-take advantage of you! T-to climb through your window and r-r-rape you!"

"I swear to you," Kyle whispered softly in a calm voice, trying to sooth his distraught friend. "I will never do anything like that again. I don't know what I was thinking. I'm so sorry, Stan."

"I've hardly slept at all since that night," Stan whimpered. "I can't get the images out of my head. It's been two years, and I still can't forget it."

After a minute or two, Stan's breathing finally became normal. "C'mon," Kyle said, lifting his friend up. "Let's go downstairs. I'll stay here tonight. I'll protect you from anyone and anything. I'll always be by your side, Stan. Always…."