Mirror Image

Thanks for the reviews, etc. The story's going to jump between the two worlds from now on, and I have some surprises in store regarding the Mirror World boys, but that's for later on!

I don't own the normal South Park, or the parallel world one.

Chapter 3

Stan stared round at the four faces looking at him. They were so familiar and yet so unfamiliar. It wasn't just because of the different hats, weird though that was. Kyle's ushanka was turquoise, Cartman's hat was now yellow with a blue poofball and Kenny wore a bright red parka that looked brand new. But that wasn't what freaked him out. It was the way they were looking at him that really worried him. The looks ranged from concern to outright loathing.

For a few moments everybody stood in silence, unsure of what to say or do. Someone had to break the stalemate and eventually someone did. Cartman glanced at the other two and moved towards Stan, causing him to push back further against the mirror.

"Are you all right?" Cartman asked.

Stan blinked. His mouth opened and shut rapidly. This was not a question he expected from Cartman in any universe. "Ye-Yeah?" he managed weakly.

Dragging his eyes away from Cartman, who was watching him with fascination, he gazed around the basement. Something had been bugging him about it and he suddenly realised what it was. Everything was the wrong way round. The shelves with the paint, which he remembered had been on his left were now on the wall to his right. The stairs and door had moved too. They'd been on his right hand side, now they were on the left. The only two things that hadn't changed position were the Gateway and the mirror. Stan swallowed hard.

"So…I'm in the mirror then?" he asked, although it was more of a statement than a question.

"No!" said Cartman.

"No?"

"No. You came from the mirror, remember?"

"No I didn't! I went into the mirror!"

"No you didn't! You came out of the mirror!"

"I…" Stan took a deep breath. This was getting them nowhere. He looked around the room for some semblance of sanity and his eyes found Mephesto, who looked basically the same, apart from being a few pounds lighter. "Look, none of this matters, okay? I just wanna go home. You can send me back, right?"

Mephesto looked up from examining the Gateway. "Possibly."

"Possibly?" Stan asked, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. "Wha-What do you mean possibly?"

Mephesto sighed and stood up. "The insides are fried. It seems the power was just too much for the Gateway. It'll take a while to fix, if I can fix it at all."

Tears welled in Stan's blue eyes as he tried to take this information in. The other three shifted uncomfortably.

"Looks like you're stuck here then!" said Blue-Hat Kyle unkindly. "Come on guys."

"Wait! Where are you going?" Stan cried as they climbed the stairs.

Kyle stopped at the top and gave him a puzzled look. "We're going home."

"You can't just leave me here!"

Kyle exchanged glances with the other two. "Well come with us, then!"

Stan looked at the Gateway and then at the three strangers at the top of the stairs and shook his head, then he ran up after them. The four boys left the basement and walked back through the house, which seemed a lot smaller to Stan. Soon they were walking back down the hill towards the town. The other three boys walked a little ahead of him, as though they were trying not to be seen with him.

Stan was too deep in thought to notice. He had a few questions he wanted to ask (How come you've got a Gateway? Why are you guys being such dicks to me?) but first there was a more important one that needed answering.

"What are we gonna tell people?" he asked.

The other three stopped and turned around. "About what?" asked Kyle.

"Me. How are you gonna explain me?"

They exchanged glances. "I'm sorry," said Cartman politely. "I don't think we follow."

Stan had to fight an urge to reach under his hat and tear his hair out.

"Look," he said in a voice of brittle calm, "Don't you think that people are going to find it a little bit weird that an exact double of Stan Marsh has appeared in South Park? I mean, what am I supposed to tell my other parents? Or…" the thought was almost too weird to contemplate, but he voiced it anyway, "my other self? Don't you think he's gonna be a little pissed off?"

The others didn't respond. Stan wanted to shake them. Why couldn't they see how important this was? And why were they looking at him like he was retarded? A chilling thought struck him. What if there was no Stan Marsh in this world? Stan had seen enough sci-fi films to know that there were many possibilities in parallel worlds. What if he had never been born or, or…what if he was dead? He pictured that scenario – going home to his 'parents', throwing open the door and saying: "Hey mom and dad! You know how you thought I was dead? Well surprise!"

"Is there another me?" he asked slowly.

"There was," Kyle said.

Stan waited for the punchline, but it didn't come. Jesus, these kids were infuriating. "What do you mean, was?" he prompted.

"You mean you didn't see him?" asked Kenny.

Stan turned to him, his confusion deepening. "Whaddaya mean, did I see him? Of course I haven't seen him!"

"Well that's weird because he must've gone right past you!" said Kenny. Stan only looked more confused. Kenny sighed. "He went into the mirror, right, and then a split second later you fell out! You must have literally passed each other when you crossed over! Are you seriously telling me that you didn't see him?"

"No, I had my eyes shut!" murmured Stan. Then he remembered the bang on the shoulder. Something had bumped into him when he'd crossed between worlds. Had he literally bumped into his double? He looked up at them, wide eyed. "Wait, my double is in my world?"

"Somebody give that kid a prize!" Kyle said sarcastically.

"But that means he's stuck too!"

"No shit, Sherlock!"

They had reached the town. They walked into Main Street, Stan again bringing up the rear behind the other three with his head bowed, deep in thought. When he looked up again he saw that the others had crossed the road and were rapidly disappearing up the other side of the street. They hadn't even said goodbye. That's odd, he thought, why is Kenny going that way? His house is over the other side of town.

Despite the familiarity of the town, Stan couldn't shake the feeling of disorientation. That was partly because, he realised, Main Street was the wrong way round. What he knew as the left hand side of the street, with Tom's Rhinoplasty and the Bijou, was now on the right and vice versa. It was though someone had picked South Park up and turned it round.

Stan stopped in the middle of the pavement and sighed. He looked up and down Main Street for a moment, and then began retracing his steps. He was going home. At least, he hoped he was.

To Stan's relief, the Marsh house was still in the same place, even if it had jumped across the road. It took him fifteen minutes longer than normal to find it though, because all the streets ran opposite to what he remembered. The sky was darkening when he finally trudged up the drive and opened the front door. He had barely gotten through the door when Randy Marsh appeared.

"Stan, where have you been? You missed dinner!"

Sharon joined him. She knelt in front of Stan and took his hand. "We're not mad sweetie, but we would have appreciated a phone call."

Stan frowned. "You're not mad?" Normally he would have been grounded for a few days if he missed dinner.

"No honey, why would we be mad?" Sharon said with a false little laugh. Randy laughed too. Stan noticed Sharon was wringing her hands, something she only did when she was nervous.

"I'm sorry I missed dinner," he said, "but I'm not hungry. I think I'm just gonna go up to bed."

He went to the stairs and began climbing slowly, feeling suddenly exhausted. As he went up he heard Sharon say excitedly: "Randy, did you hear that? He said sorry!"

"Don't get too excited, Sharon."

"I know, but its progress, right?"

Stan had no idea what any of this meant, and right now, he didn't care. All he wanted to do was go to bed and sleep until this nightmare was over.

He went into his bedroom, switched on the light, took a look around and said: "Jesus Christ!"

It was pretty much the same, apart from a few things. For a start, it looked like a tornado had recently ripped through the room. Clothes were hanging out of drawers, or had been left randomly on the floor. The bedsheets were crumpled and untidy. Toys were scattered across the floor, making a mini obstacle course. A few broken ones, including Stan's favourite red digger, lay next to the wall near the door. They were badly smashed up, as though someone had hurled them across the room. Several dents in the wall confirmed his suspicions. Stan picked up the digger, his eyes filling with tears. What the hell was going on here? He looked around the room in dismay, and saw something that made him want to wail.

His Cop Drama poster, which was signed by the stars of the show and was his most treasured possession, had been ripped up. And, just to make it worse, someone had sellotaped it up again. Badly.

Stan didn't think he could take any more horrible surprises. He sat down heavily on the bed, willing himself not to cry. He took a deep breath and then wrinkled his nose in disgust. What was that smell? He looked around. It was fairly strong and it lingered near the window. He walked over to open the window a little wider and what he saw on the windowsill made his heart plunge further. Marijuana. Three joints, to be exact, lying in the corner of his windowsill. Stan stared at them.

"Dude, what the fuck?" he said in disbelief.

The window was barely open, as though the smoker couldn't be bothered to hide what they were doing. It was bizarre.

He had to get rid of them! He looked around his bedroom desperately, and then inspiration struck. He grabbed the joints and, trying to conceal them in one small fist, ran to the bathroom and flushed them. When the last one had gone he sagged against the bathroom door with relief. When he felt his legs could hold him again, he went back to his bedroom.

He pushed his window open as wide as it would go, trying to get rid of the horrible smell, and drew the curtains (which unfortunately stank). He was so tired, he could barely muster the energy to put his pyjamas on, but somehow he managed it. He flopped on to his bed, pulled the covers up over his head and tried to forget the weirdest day of his life.

Kyle was never quite sure what happened. He'd watched Stan fall through the mirror, and the next thing he knew, Stan had fallen out again. Well, a Stan had fallen out. It wasn't the right one, he was sure about that. It had nothing to do with the different coloured hat (red with a blue poofball) although that was a big clue. But even now, lying here in bed, Kyle couldn't put his finger on what it was. All he knew was that something wasn't right about this new Stan and it was making him nervous.

After the Gateway had broken, the kid had just sat there, staring round at them all with a dreamlike look on his face. Even when Mephesto had told them that the Gateway's insides were fried and that it might take a while to fix, if at all, the new Stan had barely reacted. In fact, his eyes seemed to glaze over even more.

They'd left the lab in silence, a sense of shock hanging over them all. Stan trailed along behind them, still seemingly in his own little world. Despite the shock he'd been feeling, Kyle was bemused by this. He knew if he had become trapped in another world, he would have been asking a ton of questions. Not this guy though. Cartman had tried to provoke a reaction by throwing a rock at him, but Stan had barely blinked.

Given the state he was in, Kyle had decided to walk Stan home. It had taken them a little while because Stan kept wandering off in the wrong direction but they'd made it just as it was getting dark.

"Stanley, where have you been!" Randy shouted at him. "You missed dinner!"

Stan said nothing.

"We were very worried Stan!" Sharon said. "You know you're supposed to call us if you're going to be late!"

Stan said nothing.

"It was my fault!" Kyle said quickly, when it became clear that Stan wasn't going to save himself. "I asked him to study with me and we, uh, lost track of time. Didn't we, Stan?"

And then, amazingly, it spoke.

"Um, yeah, I guess," Stan said woodenly, staring at Randy like he was some kind of apparition. Then he'd said in that same dull monotone: "I'm tired. I'm going to bed now."

With that, he'd stumped up the stairs without so much as a goodbye, leaving his parents bemused and Kyle feeling troubled.

Its the shock, that's all, Kyle thought, turning over on to his side. He'll be fine in the morning. Somehow though, he didn't believe a word of it.

He thought about the other Stan, the real Stan, trapped in the mirror world and hoped he was all right. Tears welled in his green eyes. His best friend was probably feeling just as lost and alone as his double. This is all my fault! Kyle thought as the tears began spilling over his cheeks. I have to get Stan back! I have to make everything right.

As he drifted off into a unsettled, dreamless sleep, he had one last thought.

I will make everything right.

Chapter 4 up soon…