Alrightio, firstly... Thank you for all of the reviews, some were positive, some not so much... But constructive crit is always good, and I appreciate you all for taking the time to leave me a few words.
I just want to clarify, the reason Kyle comes off as so professional is because he spends a good deal of time reading because he's perhaps not able to go out and do the things the average teenager would. I purposefully gave him an air of intelligence around his blog writing to show that he is an intelligent kid and that was just my way of portraying this (:
Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy!

Stan was so used to the protocol that now paired with visiting his best friend that it was almost second nature to scrub his hands raw, using a brush under his freshly-clipped nails. His clothes, straight from the drier, smelled subtly of washing powder, and his hair was still a little damp from the shower he'd taken not half an hour ago.
The raven-haired boy smirked to himself as it occurred to him that he wouldn't make as much effort even when he was getting ready to take Wendy on a date- but Mrs. Broflovski demanded that if he was to see Kyle, he had to soap the crap out of any germs that could be residing under his fingernails, ready to attack, her red-headed baby the moment they saw him.
Despite having to spend at leas five minutes at Kyle's sink armed with a scrubbing brush, Stan always looked forward to seeing his best friend, and after being carefully scrutinised by Sheila he was finally allowed upstairs.
Closing the door behind him, Stan tossed his sick friend a jumbo bag of Cheetos from his backpack, flopping down next to him on the bed.

"Man, I'm surprised your mom hasn't started frisking me for contraband yet." Kyle smirked weakly, sitting up in bed and closing the book in his hands.

"Give it time, she's having dad draft up a defence for when you take her to court for anally probing you." He joked, wrapping his cosy hoodie further around his shoulders. Stan laughed, clapping him on the shoulder.

"It's good to see you again dude; wish I had something interesting to tell you, but..." He trailed off.

"Let me guess... Cartman's still an ass, Kenny's still a player, Wendy's still a bipolar bitch?" He guessed. Stan was drawn between laughing again or telling him not to talk about his girlfriend that way. But he could hardly deny that she wasn't difficult as hell to please, so he shrugged instead.

"Got it in one. You been up to much?" In retrospect, Stan was never quite sure why he always asked this, when he knew that all of Kyle's energy was taken up by everyday chores such as showering and swallowing down whatever organic vegetable Sheila had steamed that night for his dinner.

"Oh, you know... Finding the solution to world hunger, running marathons in aid of Oxfam. The usual."

"Ah, of course. Well, if you can find time in your busy schedule..." Stan reached into his bag, pulling out a somewhat-crumpled stack of papers. "I brought you some more work, lucky bastard." Kyle reached forward and flipped through the pages. Math, Biology, Physics... English?

"Stan, I'm not doing your assignments for you." He stated flatly. The raven-haired boy looked sheepish, shrugging.

"Hey, worth a shot right?"

Kyle hadn't been to school in a while. Partly because he was, frankly, too exhausted to even make it from one class to the next most of the time. Mostly because his mother thought that if he stepped foot into the institution for even a second, he'd either catch pneumonia or be crushed by a wave of his classmates. Or both.
Although he never admitted it, he missed the regularity of school. Everything was so predictable- you study, you get good grades. You do something embarrassing, you get laughed at. You sit in class, bald and sickly, everyone looks up to stare at you.
Kyle never really minded people staring at him. He knew that he was an irregularity, so no one quite knew how to react to him. Only his closest friends ignored the fact that he was pretty much staring death in the face, and treated him as he wanted to be treated- like a normal person. He didn't want pity, nor the sympathetic looks his peers all seemed to give him in the corridor.
But he accepted that they'd continue to pity him, and would continue to look at him like that. And in a way, he missed it. Nothing in his life had been 'normal' for five years now, but school helped him regain a small sense of identity that seemed to be stripped away with every chemo treatment. He could be known as the genius kid despite-being-off-sick-all-the-time rather than the cancer kid.

When they were together, Kyle and Stan spent most of their time playing on his Xbox, laughing at each other's jokes, and Stan filling him in on anything interesting that might have happened during Kyle's absence.

"When do you have chemo next?" Stan asked, trying to keep his tone casual. His sick friend raised his brow- they rarely talked about his cancer.

"Uh, couple of days from now. Why?" Stan shrugged.

"Just wondering. Did you get your results from your bone marrow biopsy?" Pausing the game, Kyle put down his controller.

"Dude, why the sudden interest? We never talk about cancer stuff."

"I guess... It's just such a big part of your life. Doesn't it bother you that I never ask about it?" He thought for a moment. Did he mind?

"Well... I guess it's good for you to know how I'm doing and all that crap, but no, it doesn't bother me. If anything major happened in terms of my cancer, I'd just drop you a text or something. Maybe send you a smoke-signal, whatever." Stan shook his head, a small smile tracing over his lips.

"Yeah, sure." They resumed the game, only speaking to berate the other's COD skills. A couple of hours later, Stan picked up his rucksack and headed towards the door to head home.

"Stan?" Kyle called. The other boy turned to look at his tired friend.

"Yeah?"

"My bone marrow biopsy showed more cancer cells. It's getting worse." Stan's gaze dropped to his feet and he nodded, before slipping out of the door and closing it behind him.

I was supposed to be writing another chapter to Thicker than Water, but every time I went to close this document and get on with it I just wrote some more instead... Guess I'm more in the mood for Cancer Kyle than Daddy Kyle~
Also, I keep referring to Ky as 'the redhead' as I do in most of my fics- only he isn't supposed to have hair in this one, so please ignore it if I do!
Thanks so much for reading!