I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don't let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories

-Sarah McLachlan, I Will Remember You

Chapter One - Sam

Blackness; that's all we see when we rejoin the story. There is no light anywhere, and there is nothing discernable anywhere. Go ahead and take a look around, squint against the darkness if you want to. Let your eyes adjust in the hopes of making something out. You'll be surely disappointed, as there is nothing to "make out". There is no furniture lurking there in the darkness, concealed by the shadows and just waiting to damage the shins of anyone who dares to walk forward. There is simply….nothing.

Interesting, huh? Well, before you storm off and find something better to do, remember that things aren't always what they appear. If you stick around for a minute or two longer, you may find that this isn't just a dark room. No, we're looking at something, though at this point it isn't possible to tell what it is. All we know is that it's taking up our entire field of vision, preventing us from really taking in anything that's happening in the story.

"Please wake up," we hear someone say. It appears that our hearing has no been impaired in the least. "You're my best friend. Please."

"Ssh," another voice, an older female, says to the first, "just keep being there for him, Stanley. He'll wake up eventually."

We can't see these people, though we can probably guess who the first one is, and if you can guess that, you can probably guess why we can't see anything. We're looking through someone else's eyes, and those eyes are closed. We've been staring directly at the back of a pair of closed eyelids this whole time.

Suddenly, as if reacting to our discovery, a horizontal sliver of light splits the darkness in two; these eyes are beginning to open. The slit stays very narrow for a moment, then opens a little wider. We can now make out a blurry world in front of us, and there are several indistinct figures in our line of sight.

"Oh my God!" one of them cries. Is that voice familiar? It should be. It was the first voice we heard earlier. It's Stan. "He's waking up! Kyle, can you hear me?"

Our view changes at this point so that we can get a better idea of what's going on. We suddenly find ourselves looking at the scene from off to the side. Stan is standing over his friend Kyle, who we last saw plummeting off the roof of a house. Apparently, Kyle has survived the fall, which is in itself quite miraculous, and is just now waking up from the experience.

"Mmm," he says, slowly opening his eyes.

There are three other people other than Stan gathered here, and he gives each of them a glance as he takes in his surroundings. There is a heavyset woman with red hair done up in a bun, a man with a neatly trimmed beard wearing a yarmulke. Meet Sheila and Gerald, Kyle's parents. There is also a boy about Stan's age wearing an orange parka which completely covers his face. Pay extra close attention to this one. His name is Kenny, and he's quite the character.

"Bubbee!" Sheila says happily.

"Welcome back, dude," Kenny says, though his words are barely recognizable due to the cloth over his face.

"Wha..?" Kyle stutters, confusion written all over his face. "Huh...where...who?"

Kyle is looking around at each of them as if he has never seen them before.

"Thank God you're back," Stan says with a smile. "We've been so worried about you."

"Worried...?" Kyle replies, his confusion only deepening as he looks at Stan. This cannot be a good sign. It could simply be disorientation, a result of waking up after being out for so long, and that's most likely what the others are chalking it up to. That would definitely explain why they haven't reacted to it yet. We know better, though. Something is definitely wrong.

"Oh yes," Sheila explains. "Stanley hasn't left your side since you fell. He's been a very loyal friend to you, Bubbee."

Kyle looks from his mother to Stan, and he's beginning to look extremely scared now.

"Him?" Kyle asks, pointing at Stan.

It's Stan's turn to look confused. He looks over at Sheila, and she returns his expression. They're finally beginning to catch on that something is off, that it isn't just disorientation. Kyle doesn't seem to recognize anyone.

"Kyle," Sheila asks, "don't you remember Stan?"

"No," he answers, looking at the black haired boy as if he is a complete stranger.

"Oh my God," Stan moans, closing his eyes. He's beginning to grasp what has happened, and he doesn't like it.

"And, uh, who are you?" Kyle asks, looking directly at Sheila.

"What do you mean?" she demands. "I'm your mother, Kyle. And this is your father."

She gestures toward her husband, who smiles down at Kyle. Kyle doesn't bother to return this. Instead, he puts his head down and looks at his hands, which he stretches out and examines as if they're the most interesting thing in the world.

"Kyle," he repeats thoughtfully, "is that my name?"

"Holy shit!" Kenny says through his parka. "He doesn't even remember his own name!"

Stan has had enough. His good mood at seeing his best friend awaken is gone, replaced entirely by an intense anger that we can see all over his face. This is a side of Stan that we shouldn't have ever had to see, and definitely one a confused Kyle doesn't need to be seeing at this moment. This is the angry Stan, the one that comes out only when his patience has reached its end and he can no longer remain his good-natured and easygoing self.

"I'm gonna kill that fat fucker for this!" he snarls angrily, pounding his fist into his palm. "I'll fucking kill him!"

Kyle suddenly looks alarmed. He has no idea who Stan is talking about, or why he's so angry. We know, of course, that he's talking about Cartman. Selfish, cold-hearted Cartman, who's actions caused Kyle to tumble and apparently lose his memory. Stan wants nothing more at this point than to catch up with Cartman and break every bone in his body. Their sometimes friend was guilty of some pretty horrific crimes, but this….this is too much.

Kenny sees this and immediately jumps into action. He grabs Stan by the shirt sleeve and drags him off to the corner of the room. Kyle watches them apprehensively as they whisper heatedly back and forth. There are wild hand gestures, and a time or two, Stan looks like he's on the verge of hitting Kenny, too. In the end, however, he simply hangs his head in defeat and nods. Kenny throws an arm over his shoulders and whispers something in his ear. Stan takes a slow, deep breath and lets it out, then they walk back to the bed together.

"Better, Stanley?" Sheila asks, giving him a 'You'd better be' look.

"Yes, ma'am," he answers.

"Now," she says, addressing her son, "tell me who you recognize."

Kyle looks around the room, letting his eyes linger on each of them for several seconds. He's studying them all, searching his non-existent memories for anything about any of them. Finally, when he's been over everyone several times, he simply shakes his head and looks away sadly.

"You don't remember...anything, do you?" Stan asks, knowing the answer already.

"No," Kyle replies.

"Kenny," Sheila says, turning to our orange little friend, "run and get the doctor. Go as fast as you can."

"Doctor?" the boy in the bed asks. "Where am I, a hospital or something? Why am I here?"

Kenny turns away from Kyle's bedside to run for the doctor. As he does so, he trips over a power cord and lands on a nearby empty bed. This somehow activates the motor, which causes the bed to fold up. Kenny is squished inside, and all we hear is his cry of agony. Sensing his chance to test the actual damage to Kyle's memory, Stan jumps into action.

"Oh my God!" he cries. "They killed Kenny!"

He looks at Kyle, who looks back at him blankly.

"Why are you looking at me? I didn't kill him."

"Man, you really have forgotten EVERYTHING."

"What have I forgotten Sam?" Kyle challenges.

"Um," Stan groans, pinching his nose with his thumb and forefinger, "you were supposed to say 'you bastards'."

Kyle cocks his head at this. These words, though they've been uttered by the two of them in various forms over the years, are completely foreign to him. In his ears, this is no different that the lyrics of a song he's never heard before. He can't sing along, because he doesn't know how.

"'You bastard'?" he replies, his mouth turning upwards into a slightly amused smirk. "Why? Did you kill him?"

"Oh, nevermind."

Kyle doesn't know Stan from Adam's cat, but we can tell that he is intrigued by him at the very least.

"You're weird, Sam," he says.

"Stan," the other corrects.

"No, I'm Kyle...I think."

Stan is not amused by this. He turns from the bed and sits down in a chair against the wall. He puts his between his knees and doesn't move again. The poor boy has been through one hell of an emotional rollercoaster lately, and it has obviously taken its toll on him. We'll leave him be for the present time and turn our attention to the rest of the group.

Kyle's parents are absolutely devastated, and Sheila has collapsed into Gerald's arms. He is doing her best to comfort her as she wails, obviously unable to hold her composure any longer, even for her son's sake.

"That fall off the roof must have done more damage that the doctors thought!" she moans. "Oh, Gerald! What are we gonna do?"

"Have I…done something?" Kyle asks them.

"No, Kyle," Gerald tells him, doing his best to give his son a reassuring look while looking over his wife's oversized hair bun. "You didn't do anything wrong. It's just..."

At this point, the hospital door opens and we turn to see what's going on. A new person walks in that we've never seen before, and from the look of him you might think he just wandered into the wrong room; he definitely looks nothing like anyone else here. He has jet black hair, beady little black eyes, and the top of his head doesn't seem to be attached to the bottom. This is Ike, Sheila and Gerald's adopted child and the youngest member of Kyle's family. He doesn't see everyone looking at him right away, because he is drinking deeply from a can of Coke as he enters. As he lowers the can, however, he sees his parents looking quite upset and immediately shoots a glance over at Kyle. Obviously, he got the wrong idea from his mother's tears and immediately expected the worst.

"Kyle!" he says, relief spreading across his face. "You're awake!"

Kyle doesn't respond. He simply eyes the newcomer with distrust. We can tell by the look on his face that he doesn't like the way this boy's head seems to flap when he talks.

"Um," he says, giving his parents a 'what the fuck' look, "How are you doing?"

Still no response.

"Kyle?" he persists. "Are you….?"

"I don't know who this is," Kyle says, "though I'm going to take a guess and say that he's someone else I'm supposed to know."

Gerald motions for Ike to follow and they retreat into the hallway, where the boy will be brought up to date, no doubt. Kyle doesn't give them a second glance as they go. He's getting annoyed again.

"And what's your problem, Sam?" he demands of Stan, who is still sitting quietly where we left him. When he hears Kyle addressing him, albeit incorrectly, his head comes up slowly from between his knees, and we see just how tired he really is.

"Kyle," he says wearily, "my best friend needs help to get better, and I have no idea how to help him."

"Who's your best friend?" Kyle asks, as if he'd honestly remember.

"You are," Stan replies.

Kyle doesn't look all that surprised at this, and all things considered, why would he be? He does raise his eyebrows rather quizzically at these words, however. He still doesn't seem to realize that there's something genuinely wrong with him.

"What am I getting better from, Sam?"

"From your...your amnesia."

"AMNESIA!" Kyle barks back. "Oh, whatever! If I had amnesia, I'd remember!"

The irony of this statement does not bring a smile to anyone's face, and only makes Stan shake his head in disgust.

"This isn't funny, Kyle!" he shoots back, just as Ike and Gerald walk back in.

"Funny?" Kyle repeats, letting the word linger for a second before he picks up a pitcher of water from the nearby table and flinging it across the room. Ike jumps out of the way just in time to keep from being hit in the head with it. "Funny? Of course it isn't funny! All of you randomly pop up in front of me, claiming to know me and my past! I don't know any of you!"

He points an accusing finger at Sheila and shoots her a black look that the old Kyle would not have ever dared to give to his mother. "You could be a mad woman for all I know!"

He turns his attention and his finger to his father. "And you could be some kind of psycho!"

Then to Stan: "And you…..you could be some kind of stalker rapist!"

"I'm not a stalker rapist!" Stan argues defensively. "I'm your best friend!"

"So YOU say."

"Holy shit!" Ike says in shock.

"And who's he?" Kyle demands.

"He's…your little brother," Sheila answers, the strain in her voice letting us know that she's trying desperately to remain calm. "His name is Ike."

Kyle gives Ike another once over, the disbelief etched all over his face.

"Oh yeah," he says sarcastically, "that's a good one. We look nothing alike."

"That's a long story, Kyle," Stan says, rubbing his temples.

"I don't wanna know," Kyle says, folding his arms stubbornly and looking away, looking very much like a small child.

Seeing his best friend reduced to this is more than Stan can take. He reaches his breaking point and throws his hands up in defeat. He grabs his jacket and shakes his head, more upset than any of us can possibly imagine.

"I...I can't deal with this anymore," he says. "I have to go."

"We understand, Stanley," Sheila tells him. "It's okay."

As Stan moves toward the door, however, something happens that is simply too strange to explain rationally. Something in Kyle's face changes at the moment that he realizes that Stan is walking out on him. There's something there that looks like…panic. He suddenly looks more scared than he has the entire time we've been in the room with him.

"Don't!" he suddenly calls out.

"Don't what?" Stan mumbles, stopping just long enough to look back over his shoulder.

Kyle doesn't answer for a minute. He just sits there, looking down into his lap for a moment or two. Then, just as everyone is ready to shrug it off as just a random outburst that meant nothing, he mumbles something into his chest.

"What did you say?" Stan asks, moving closer.

"Don't go," Kyle mumbles again.

"A minute ago you were calling me a stalker rapist and screaming at me, now you want me to stay?"

Well," Kyle answers slowly, "I dunno where all that came from okay, Sam? I...I just had a sudden anger burst. You try waking up in a bed with strangers claiming to know you and see how you like it."

Stan sits down on the bed next to him and looks into his eyes. This is him at his most sincere, at his most honest and vulnerable. If Kyle says something horrible to him while he's like this, it will surely crush the poor boy's soul into a thousand pieces. He will never be the same again.

"It's Stan," he says gently, "and I'm willing to...help you remember, if you'll let me. You're my best friend, Kyle."

"Okay Sa...err, Stan," he says, looking back at him.

"You're gonna remember, Kyle. I promise."

"You'd do all this for me?" Kyle asks, smiling a little at him. He's sincerely touched that someone who is little more than a stranger to him would be willing to do so much to help him.

"Of course I would!" Stan says, smiling. He's back to his old self. "Like I told you, you're my best friend."

Well," the other says, "if that's true, then I can see why I would have you as a best friend."

We move slowly to the window, where we can see the sun beginning to set, staining the sky with a glorious shade of deep red. We stay here for a second before our story transition moves us forward to the same sky at night. The moon is out and the stars are twinkling peacefully.

Suddenly, we find ourselves looking not at the sky, but at Stan and Gerald, who are sitting at tables in the hospital cafeteria. They're picking quietly at plates of dry macaroni and cheese that no doubt cost them more money than they were worth. Stan looks like he wants to ask Gerald something, and Gerald look like he knows that there's something on the boy's mind, but neither of them are making any attempt at making conversation.

Stan picks up a noodle from his plate that is so ridiculously overcooked that it looks as though it could break teeth and puts it to the side. He has quite a collection of nasty macaroni noodles on his napkin.

"Okay," Gerald says finally, to our relief and Stan's, "I've sat here for the last hour watching you pick at that nasty garbage. Why don't you tell me what's weighing so heavily on your mind?"

"I thought you'd never ask," Stan replies.

"Well, you could've said something yourself, you know," Gerald answers with a smirk.

Stan nods and looks back down at his noodles. He's gathering his thoughts, or at least trying to put on the appearance of gathering his thoughts. God knows, he's had plenty of time to organize them, perfect them, throw them out, and start over again several times. He's stalling.

"Come on, Stan," Gerald prods.

"It's what Kyle did back there," Stan admits.

"You mean when he asked you not to go?"

"Yeah."

"Well," Gerald says, "I don't claim to know very much about the human brain, or the soul, or any of that. I'm a lawyer, not a doctor or a priest."

Stan nods at this and Gerald continues.

"All I know is there's something about you that Kyle remembers somehow. Maybe not mentally, because it's obvious that he doesn't remember any of us. I'm thinking it could be a deep rooted connection that caused him to call out for you. It could even be spiritual."

"Go on."

Stan is barely blinking, he's focusing so deeply on this man's words.

"Well, you've been friends since before you could talk, and it's no secret that there are feeling between you that go beyond friendship, though whether it's from one of you or both of you, I don't know. I don't want to know, either. That's not my business. I just want you to know that people have picked up on it, whether the two of you have or not."

Stan nods. We can tell by the look on his face that he's definitely picked up it, too. We can't really tell any more than that. What's the history between him and his best friend? Do they both have romantic feelings for each other? Is it only from one of them? Have they discussed it at length? Are they…together? Alas, these are not questions we have the answers to at this point in our story, so let us leave it and proceed forward. Gerald is still speaking.

"I think the two of you have such a bond," he says, "that when he saw you walking out on him, it caused him to flip out. I saw fear on his face, Stanley. He was terrified, though he had no idea why."

"You're saying," Stan responds, "that we're so closely connected, that it could have been his very soul that screamed out for him to stop me?"

"Yes, Stan," Gerald says, smiling over his plastic fork. "That's exactly what I'm saying."

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