Didn't Know I Cared

By Breech Loader

Me: Originally in chapter one, there were a lot of '?' combined with '!'. But I'm sure most of you know how much Fanfiction dot net hates those and takes out the '!' so you can't exclaim a question. It kinda spoiled how scared and angry Cartman was.

Anyway, I was hoping for more reviews commenting on quality, but hey, got it under control.

Chapter Two

Cartman looked at Butters, lying in the bed. He'd caught a taxi to the hospital and practically carried the other boy in. And then Butters had thrown up, passed out on the floor, thrown up again, and starting spazzing out, right before he had been taken away on a trolley. Cartman had convinced them that he was Butters' half-brother, so he'd been allowed to watch as they'd pumped Butters' stomach and then hooked him up to a bunch of machines.

Not that he cared.

Or at least, he shouldn't feel a need to care.

He didn't know the numbers of Butters' parents' cell-phones, so he'd called back to their home and left a message. They must have been nearly home though, because they'd arrived in a hurry, with Mrs Stotch screaming and sobbing as soon as she saw Butters.

That had been two hours ago, and Cartman had to admit, the blond did look pretty awful. Not actually as bad as Cartman had seen him when Butters had collapsed into his own vomit, but still terrible. Still chilly and pale. Hooked up to an intravenous drip and dozens of wires. The doctors had said something about his blood-pressure being too low and the massive attempt at an overdose meaning they couldn't risk using more medication.

Perhaps worst of all was that Butters wouldn't wake up. The doctors said he was in a coma – that his current reactions probably meant he'd wake up in a couple of days, but for now, they'd done all they could and the rest was up to God.

Lazy bastards.

"Eric?" Cartman looked up at Mrs Stotch, "We want to thank you for saving our little boy Butters' life. If it weren't for you he might be dead by now..." she blew her nose, "You're a little hero, Eric…"

"Yeah, well..." Cartman did his best to look and sound 'modest', "I'm no hero, ma'am. Any decent person would've done it."

"No, but you were so brave, not panicking. And you didn't do anything silly, like try and cover it up or put him to bed for a rest or call an ambulance..."

"Aw, Mrs Stotch..." Well, he was damn good at taking charge of things. Especially people. Cartman's ego was quick to convince him that it had been deliberate, rather than instinct or luck.

"When he wakes up, he is going to be so grounded!" Mr Stotch snapped.

Cartman looked at Stephen Stotch for a few seconds, keeping his expression carefully blank. He was pretty sure that if he had Butters' parents - calm and friendly on the outside, controlling psychopaths on the inside - it'd be them or him. And of course Butters wouldn't have the guts to slit his parents' throats in their sleep.

Right now though, he was only here while he waited for his mom to pick him up, listening with half-an-ear to Butters' parents begging him to wake up when the skinny bond probably wasn't going to come around for days. If he even lived; the doctors were still hanging a question mark over that one too.

What he didn't get was why Butters would want to kill himself. Cartman had no intention of ever killing himself; there was always something you could do to somebody to make things better. Just thinking about the why of it made his head hurt all over again.

He looked over at Butters again, his mousy blond hair spread over the pillow. The hospital bed served to make him look more lanky and skinny than ever. Weak and helpless too. Cartman was one of those people who despised weakness even as he exploited it - even though he would always shy away from a show of strength – but for whatever reason seeing Butters that way... well, it didn't make him hate the blond. Instead he again felt that fear. Which didn't make sense because why should you be afraid of some kid in a coma?

He really wished Butters would just... wake up. Then he could ask him these questions. Hell, he'd have asked them anyway, awake or not, but that Butters' parents were there.

Stan or Kyle might be able to explain these things, but he was certain Kyle would just take advantage, and Stan would tell Kyle. He couldn't trust them. The only person he could trust was Butters. Who might not even wake up. Sure, the doctor said he would but that was probably just bullshit to try and shut up his bitching parents.

Cartman hated hospitals. They reminded him of a lot of bad things, perhaps most notably the time one of his kidneys had been stolen from him to give to Kyle. Kidneys were important.

He couldn't look at Butters after thinking that. And he couldn't explain why not.

But he didn't want the smaller boy to die.

Linda Stotch had gone back to Butters' bedside, and she was still crying noisily. It was getting on Cartman's nerves. He stared hard at his feet. Right now they were the only thing in this room that wasn't annoying, scaring or confusing hm.

Just thinking about all that unexpected... concern... back at his house confused him. He hated feeling confused almost as much as he hated being wrong, and he hated being wrong almost as much as he hated Jews, and he hated Jews almost as much as he hated Hippies-

"Oh god! Stephen! Get the doctor!"

The scream snapped Cartman out of his haze, and he looked over at the bed. Without warning, Butters had entered another seizure. Linda Stotch had been holding his pale hand, and was now shouting in pain as his hold randomly tightened and released on her, his nails digging in.

Cartman would have laughed. Except he didn't feel much like laughing right now. She managed to wrench her hand away. It was actually bleeding where Butters' nails had broken the skin.

The doctors surrounded Butters, and Cartman was glad of that. It was horrible enough that he had to look. He forced himself to study a fascinating mark on the wall, but he couldn't stop hearing it.

"He just threw up again!"

"This time there's black blood in it - he's vomiting right to the pit of his stomach. He must have absorbed some of the medication he overdosed on."

"Just keep his air passage free, the seizure will pass..."

Cartman covered his ears tightly, and closed his eyes. He didn't want to know. He didn't want to know. He'd never known that giving a shit could hurt so much. But now he couldn't stop.

After almost five minutes he couldn't stand it any more. He looked up again and took his hands away from his ears cautiously. The crazy bustle had stopped, but when he looked at Butters, the blond looked even paler than ever. He'd stopped seizing up but now there were spots of blood around his mouth. Cartman looked away quickly.

"Poopsikins?" Cartman looked up at his mother in surprise. He wondered why she'd taken so long, "How's my brave little hero doing?"

"Fine, fine," Cartman drawled, "Mom..." he looked over at Butters, who was now lying so still that he might actually be dead. At least his mom could be trusted with a few of his secrets, "I... I don't feel like much of a hero right now..." he admitted quietly.

"Aw..." Liane Cartman gave her son a hug, "Poor baby. Would you feel better if we went to the toy store tomorrow and got you a mecha-toy?"

Cartman hesitated, "Yeah?"

"Okay hun," Liane stood up, "Now let's get back home! I know my little boy must be all tired out! Say goodnight to your friend Butters..."

Cartman looked at the unconscious blond, "Why?" he asked his mother, "It's not like he can hear me. He's comatose, remember?"

"You never know," Liane prompted her son again, "Go on; it's no effort to be nice!"

"Night, Butters..." Cartman sighed, feeling like an idiot, "Get well soon, okay?"

Butters didn't stir.

Me: I know this chapter's a lot shorter than the first. It would have had some of the next day in it, but that would've been a little stupid.

So, the next day comes next chapter, but on the plus side we know that it'll be continued for a while, eh? Please review; say what you think, huh? Butters will be coming around (or at least being more aware) real soon.