Okay, so here we go once more with this story that is just going to keep getting more and more depressing as time goes on. Oh, I mapped it out: final chapter count will be 18. Two more than I thought. So we still have a ways to go guys. Lots more to bleed outta this sucker.

Yes, I know, I've been a total whore with updates. I thought I'd be updating more, but turns out I'm not the happiest camper right now. Oh well, there's nothing better than angsty real life to fuel angsty style, huh? Kidding, kidding.

Okay, so I owe my wife this dear next little blurb. You people, must absolutely check out Indiana Beach Bum's The Distance Between Us. You know, the woman that wrote Fighting the Truth, the most brilliant story probably ever to hit South Park fanfiction? Most of you probably read it. So go read her new one! It's awesome as well! Um, the gist of it is that Stan's cheating on Wendy with Kyle, and it's all Wendy's point of view. It's about as original as style can get at this point guys, so goooo check it out for the love of Stan and Kyle!

Hey, and while we're at it, I'll advertise another. This story has been going for quite a while, but you should all check out Cjmarie's To Die For You. I'm pretty addicted to it right now. It's angsty, but it's real good and I love the story to death. And the girl is a total sweetheart too :P so go show her some love too, mmkay?

One final thing: Wow guys, Six chapter and over a hundred reviews. Could I BE any more flattered? I think not.

Alright, now on with the story!

Chapter 7 – Conditional Love

Kyle spent the evening with the Marshes, trying to maintain the more upbeat attitude he had recently acquired. Sharon was, of course, more than happy to include Kyle as a member of their family, at least for a little while, while Randy and Shelly didn't really give a damn. The table made pleasant small talk during meal time (except for Shelly of course but that was hardly to be expected), and Kyle had even gone so far as to crack a few jokes and let the occasional smile escape him. Stan was obviously ecstatic with this new turnaround, and took every opportunity to show his boyfriend this, squeezing his hand and thigh enthusiastically under the table while the other boy tried to control the color in his face.

This happier aura around the two boys lasted well into the evening. Stan and Kyle were, actually, watching a movie in the Marsh's family room when the phone rang. Kyle sat through it obliviously, laughing at the screen while Stan was barely aware of the noise, although listening with half an ear. He didn't really make out any words but rather, an incessant babbling coming from the end his mother was not a member of, but when the babbling on the other end increased in volume and refused to stop, not even letting his mother have a single word, Stan's grip on Kyle tightened. He had, of course, completely forgotten to tell Kyle that his mother had called earlier. Their rendezvous beforehand had completely driven it from his mind.

As was expected, Mrs. Marsh emerged from the kitchen with the phone in one hand moments later, looking frazzled.

"Kyle dear, your mother's on the phone for you," she said sweetly, although it was obvious from her facial expression that she'd rather do what Stan had done earlier, and hang up on the overbearing woman.

Kyle's eyes immediately turned away from the screen, looking at Stan and his mother with uncertainty and… fear? Stan silently cursed himself, wishing he had mentioned Mrs. Broflovski's earlier call to the house sooner rather than later.

"She also mentioned something about speaking with you, Stan, earlier," she said, obviously keeping more back than what she knew. More likely than not, Mrs. Broflovski had been taking Stan's behavior out on his poor mother.

Stan could feel Kyle's eyes boring into the side of his face after that comment, so Stan turned his head to meet Kyle's eyes with his own.

"My mom called earlier and you didn't tell me?" Kyle asked, sounding a little hurt.

Stan sighed, closing his eyes and running a hand through his hair. "No, dude. I was gonna tell you later cause you were upset, but I kinda… forgot," he ended lamely. While Stan wanted to protect Kyle from his bitch of a mother, Kyle did have every right to speak with her if he wanted to.

Kyle looked at Stan's guilty expression for a moment longer before smiling lightly, turning his face back towards his own.

"It's okay, I understand," he told Stan, kissing him lightly on the lips.

Stan kissed him back briefly. "I love you, no matter what," he stated.

Kyle smiled at his boyfriend before taking a deep breath, fully expecting that his mother was calling only because she wanted her ex-son's shit out of the house.

Mrs. Marsh handed the phone to Kyle before taking his place on the couch, beside her son.

"Sheila's a very… passionate woman," she stated after a few moments of silence.

Stan looked at his mother sideways. "You… could say that," he replied. "Do you know what she wanted?"

"No clue," Mrs. Marsh said, the two of them exchanging a small laugh. After a few moments, she gave her son a comforting back pat before getting up to go about her own business. In the background, it didn't seem like Kyle was really getting any words in with his mother either.

After a good five minutes, Kyle hung the phone up and returned to the family room, where Stan looked at him with inquiring eyes.

Kyle stared back for a moment, his skin noticeably paler. He closed his eyes and sighed, letting his red curls fall into his face for a moment before he pushed them away irritably. He looked back at Stan, whose expression had turned to one of concern. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again. Truth be told, Kyle Broflovski was at a loss for words. He hadn't seen this coming, not in the least, and the raging turmoil that had been previously calmed was roaring around inside his mind once more.

Stan stood up to meet Kyle, who was still standing in the doorway, looking positively dumbstruck.

"What's going on?" He asked Kyle, resting his hand on the other boy's waist.

"She-" Kyle started, pausing again. "She…" Kyle cast his eyes downwards, not able to meet the fierce blue of his boyfriend's.

Stan tilted his head downwards also, so he could lean in and kiss Kyle's mouth. He pulled away only slightly, whispering his words onto the lips of the other. "What happened Ky?"

Kyle kept his eyes closed, breathing in Stan's comforting boyish scent. "She… she wants me home, dude," he finally uttered under his breath.

Kyle heard Stan's breath catch; his surprise was evident. "She WHAT?" He asked, feeling the need to clarify what his ears had just heard.

"She wants me home," Kyle restated, leaning in towards his boyfriend and resting his head on his shoulder, feeling just as worried as he felt.

Stan took this in for a moment, hugging the confused boy back. "Dude, what did she say?"

Kyle took another moment before responding. "She said she made a mistake, and that she was sorry, and wanted me back. Dude, she NEVER admits to being wrong. I don't understand, I've got to be missing something."

Stan frowned at this, silently agreeing with his friend's logic. He pondered this for a few moments, drawing a blank as to possible reasons for this. Instead, he opted to continue holding Kyle, whose brain was still working overtime trying to understand this new change in his mother.

"Are – are you going to go home?" Stan wondered both aloud and to Kyle.

Kyle bit his lip, thinking of an answer to this question. Once he became fairly certain, he backed away from Stan, straightening up.

"I – I think so, dude," he spoke slowly and with precision. "If there's any chance my mom wants me back, Stan, I want to take it."

Stan frowned; it couldn't be this easy. Something was missing. "But Kyle-" he started to protest.

Kyle held up his hand, his facial expression looking almost pained. "Stan, please. I've made up my mind. I – I want my mom to accept me for who I am. And… and I want her to love me." He said the last part roughly, biting back any more tears that may fall past what he had already shed.

Stan nodded his head, understanding this at least partially.

"Heh, and, and I sort of need my insulin back too dude, if it comes to that. And my shoes." Kyle sneezed then looked down at his feet covered by socks that did not belong to him half amusedly, half bitterly.

"You can borrow some shoes if you want," Stan offered, seeing his boyfriend's dilemma.

"Thanks," Kyle muttered, frowning at the fabric.

"When're you leaving?" Stan asked, hopeful that Kyle wouldn't want to go just yet.

"In a bit," Kyle said after a moment, figuring he should calm himself down and prep himself somewhat before leaving.

"Wanna finish the movie?"

"'Kay."

Stan took Kyle's hand and led him back into the room, where they proceeded to watch the rest of the movie, sitting almost awkwardly straight, side by side. Kyle was on ends, trying not to act as jittery as he felt but failing horribly. Stan tried his best to soothe the shaken boy, but the moment he put his arm around Kyle, Kyle jumped ten feet in the air, practically falling off the couch in the process. Instead Stan settled for holding his hand, which was shaking ever so slightly.

Eventually, as all things do, the movie came to an end. The boys sat, staring blankly at the screen as the credits scrolled past. The DVD returned to the main screen, and still Kyle made no movement to get up and leave. Stan flipped through the options, looking for something to delay his boyfriend's departure.

"Wanna check out the bonus features?" He offered, sounding hopeful. Kyle hesitated, before nodding his head with a small smile, grateful for the thousands of pointless features littered on every DVD movie pretty much ever made.

Stan and Kyle managed to waste another half hour going through the blooper reels, deleted scenes and such, but one can only take so many options. Eventually they came to an end, and Kyle began to stir, figuring he should return home sooner rather than later.

"Want to watch the movie in Spanish?" Stan cried out, a little desperately, anxious to get his friend to stay a little longer. Whatever Mrs. Broflovski was hiding by apologizing, it couldn't be good, Stan decided.

Kyle smiled a little before shaking his head, sadly. "I need to go home," he told Stan, who let out a small sigh of defeat and turned the television off. He stood up alongside Kyle, wrapping his arms around his neck, pulling their bodies close together.

"Come back here if you need anything," he whispered into Kyle's hair, kissing the side of his face.

Kyle wrapped his arms around Stan's back, enjoying the embrace. "Yeah, I will," he replied. "Thanks for everything."

"No need to thank," Stan responded, while Kyle snorted a little, deciding to ruin the moment.

"Aw, dude, that's so sweet. I think I'm gonna puke," Kyle pulled away, making a pretend sick face.

"You're gonna puke? I'M the one who said it!" Stan retorted, smiling and making his own sick face.

"Don't hurl on me!" Kyle exclaimed, grinning, shoving him away.

"Make me!" Stan grabbed Kyle by the arm and pulled him forcefully back into himself, biting and nipping at his neck.

Kyle gasped a little, though giggling throughout. "Goddamnit Stan, you can't make me all hot now, I gotta go home!"

"Home can wait a few minutes, can't it?" Stan sniggered, bringing his hand down to the crotch of Kyle's pants, grabbing him roughly through the fabric.

"Staaan!" Kyle half whined, half moaned, laughing genuinely as he temporarily forgot about his cares and planted his lips on his boyfriend's, sucking hungrily.

Using both arms, Stan somehow managed to lift Kyle up to his hips, carrying him over back to the beloved couch.

"Just…for a moment…" Kyle hissed, in the same moment forgetting why 'just for a moment.' Stan dropped Kyle onto the couch, before clambering over the edge and onto the waiting boy.

No sooner had Stan reached Kyle's body when Mrs. Marsh entered the room, carrying a dishtowel. Stan of course, leapt off and away from Kyle, while Kyle stayed lying down, biting his lip as his face changed hues, hoping not but yet knowing that Mrs. Marsh knew he was there.

Stan was only able to catch the expression on his mother's face for a brief moment before the woman practically fled the room, not needing to know what her son and boyfriend SHOULD, by all logic, be doing behind closed doors.

"Shit," Stan murmured, totally humiliated and discouraged as Kyle opted to sit up, pushing his hands against his face in an attempt to cool it.

"G-guess we gotta be more careful where we do that now, h-huh," Kyle said quietly, trying to smile a little.

"Heh, yeah," Stan ran a hand awkwardly through his hair, helping Kyle off the couch and kissing him briefly.

Kyle hesitated a moment. "I really should get going," he told Stan.

Stan nodded, still feeling red in his cheeks. "Call me if you need anything, or come back. No more sitting out in the cold."

Kyle nodded at this, then sneezed. "Kay dude. I will." He kissed Stan's lips one more time before breaking away from him. "I love you."

"I love you too. Want me to walk you home?" Stan offered, still trying to hang on to Kyle as long as possible.

The other boy shook his head at this. "Nah dude, I gotta cool off before I get there," he responded, indicating the heat still not leaving his face.

Stan couldn't help but grin at how cute Kyle looked when he was embarrassed. He walked with Kyle to the front door, digging out a pair of shoes and a jacket for him to wear, which Kyle accepted gratefully.

"I'll talk to you later then? Hope everything goes well," he said to his partner.

"Yeah, and yeah, me too," Kyle said. "I'll let you know how it goes."

"Bye Kyle."

Kyle pecked Stan on the lips one final time. "Bye you." And with that Kyle stepped out of his house and into the cold night, hoping that whatever was waiting at home, it was good.

He walked through the streets briskly, hugging the coat around him as the snowy wind blew against his face, making his cheeks go numb after a few minutes. Luckily, his house was nearby. Kyle walked with a determined pace despite his clouded head, refusing to let himself fret over what would happen when he got there.

Now standing on the doorstep he had been kicked out onto only the night before, Kyle glanced around nervously. He looked up, seeing a fresh new patch of snow on the roof above him. He vaguely wondered what it would be like to fall down on him again. He wondered if he could handle it if his mother kicked him out again.

Kyle continued standing there for a good few minutes before he finally worked up the courage to knock on the door. The harsh cold rattle made his insides freeze, waiting for the door to swing inwards and to be welcomed back into his house.

He didn't have to wait long. Just moments after his knuckles left the solid wood, Mrs. Broflovski almost threw open the door, welcoming her son in with a beaming smile and a bone crushing hug.

"Welcome home buhbie!" She exclaimed once she released him. "I'm so happy you came home!" Kyle looked strangely at his mother and her happy facial expression. He had to be missing something. This mother, this was not the same one as the previous night. The only with the cold, unforgiving eyes, the one who told him he was not a member of the family anymore. Completely taken aback and not sure what to do, Kyle smiled back at his mother, saying nothing for the moment.

"Well come on in!" Mrs. Broflovski ushered her son. "Let me take your coat," she continued, completely ignoring the fact that the coat was not his own, as she had not even allowed her son time to grab one before she had shoved him outside into the cold. Kyle hesitated before he let her take it; this time, he made a mental note, he'd make sure to grab it. If it came to that.

"I made you some dinner in case you hadn't eaten already!" The woman continued, taking her son's arm and leading him into the kitchen. Kyle pondered at this; it really wasn't so different than how she was behaving the other night; only now she was trying to get him to stay, instead of leave. Kyle also wondered how much exactly his mother loved ordering people around. She seemed to do it an awful lot. And was it just him, or did her tone seem somewhat fake? Maybe he was just looking too far into it.

Sheila bustled about while Kyle stood in the middle of the kitchen, eyes wandering. He didn't understand it; it looked the same as before, everything was in the same place. And yet it didn't feel the same. He passively allowed himself to be pushed into a chair while his mother attended to him, placing a meal that seemed entirely planned for him in front of his face. It smelled delicious.

As soon as she was done, Mrs. Broflovski took a seat at the table, beside her son. No sooner had Kyle hesitantly raised a fork to his mouth when his hand was snatched from him, Sheila decidedly wanting to hold her son's hand as she began to speak again, perhaps to try to reestablish the broken bond between them. But from the looks of her, Sheila didn't even seen to think anything had changed between them; in fact, it was as if the previous night hadn't happened in her eyes.

"Buhbie, I've missed you so much," she began, acting as though Kyle had run away from home instead of been kicked out from his home. "I tried calling earlier; I suspected you may have gone to your little friend's house, and I was right." She said that last bit smugly, clearly thinking she knew her son inside out. "But he was so rude to me – but oh Kyle! None of that matters now, because you've come home! And I've missed you so much!" Sheila threw her arms around her son again, looking on the verge of tears. Kyle was still taken aback by his mother's drastically different behavior, his mind whirring but not allowing his mouth to formulate the questions he needed answered: Why had she kicked him out? Why did she want him back now? Why was she behaving differently? How was Stan rude to her? What was going on?

Instead of voicing these thoughts, Kyle closed his eyes, willing himself to function. "I-I missed you too, ma."

Sheila withdrew herself, going back to just holding her son's hand in hers, looking at him earnestly. Kyle's eyes met hers, and despite everything that had happened he found himself trapped in his mother's loving gaze. Maybe she really DID want him back. Maybe she HAD accepted him.

Sheila sighed, looking more tired than Kyle had probably ever seen her. "I… I have not been a very good mother to you, Kyle," she started, a hint of pain from admitting that creeping along her face. "What happened last night buhbie… you have to understand, I was shocked and upset. I didn't mean to act so drastically."

Sheila almost winced as Kyle felt shock overpower his face for one brief moment. Was… was his mother admitting she was wrong? That she hadn't been right? Kyle had only seen her do that once or twice in his lifetime with the woman, and it had been over petty things.

"I…I…" Kyle once again found himself at a loss for words.

Mrs. Broflovski smiled at her son. "Shhh, it's okay buhbie. We could have both come to a better… solution than that. But oy, what's done is done, right Kyle? It's time to move on, let the past be forgotten."

"It's… hard to," Kyle admitted, feeling unsure and yet safe with the only woman he'd probably ever love.

Sheila cupped her son's cheek with one hand, forcing their eyes to meet again. "It's going to be okay Kyle. You trust me, don't you?"

Kyle looked back into his mother's earnest eyes, trying to see something evil flittering behind them and not succeeding in the least. He thought back to years before, when his mother had been there for him even when his friends hadn't. He vaguely recalled his Bat Mitzvah, and how proud his mother had looked that day. He remembered her cooking him his favorite soup when he was sick as a child, and how she would spend the day looking after her precious 'buhbie.' How could he not trust this woman? His mother.

"I trust you," he finally replied, smiling faintly and yet knowing the despite what she had done, it rang clear and true.

His mother smiled warmly at him, before giving her son a gentler hug. "I love you buhbie."

Kyle broke at this, hearing the words he had been waiting for. He hugged his mother back, finding acceptance in her arms. "I love you too ma." A few trickles of water leaked down the sides of his face.

They parted after their long embrace, Sheila wiping the sides of her cheeks which were slightly damp while Kyle swiped at his eyes hastily with his sleeve. Sheila looked down at Kyle's uneaten plate of food.

"Eat up, buhbie," she said, "and get to bed early. We have to wake up early tomorrow morning for Doctor Thompson."

Kyle looked up again, once more stopping his fork inches from his mouth. "Who? What?"

Mrs. Broflovski gave her son a sad little smile before continuing. "You're sick buhbie."

Kyle felt rather taken aback like this; how the hell had his mother known enough in advance to schedule an appointment? "Well yeah mom, but I think it's just a cold. It's not bad, I don't need a doctor or nuthin'."

Sheila looked sympathetically at her son. "Oh dear, you have a cold also? I'll make a note to pick you up some cough drops tomorrow when you're at your appointment." She kissed the top of her bewildered son's head lightly.

Kyle looked up at this new woman. His throat felt dry, barely able to pronounce the words. "How… how am I sick?"

His mother looked at him, seeming to not understand her son not understanding. "I should have seen it coming earlier, buhbie. I should have been a better mother also. It's no wonder, you were so busy at Harvard and spending so much time alone to your thoughts, it must have been so lonely for you." Sheila patted Kyle's back at this. "I really shouldn't have been surprised that you started having odd… fascinations."

"Wait, wha-" Kyle got to stand up.

Sheila cut her son off, not allowing him to speak. She laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It's okay Kyle, I understand. I thought about it last night; I really should have introduced you to Lia sooner. I should have introduced you to nice girls sooner. You've always been so shy around them, buhbie. Maybe that's why this happened. But it's okay now, like I said, the past is in the past. You have to trust me that you're going to be okay. I'm here to help you, my son, and we can beat this together, while you're at home," Mrs. Broflovski ended with a flourish, clearly excited with her new little project, beaming widely at her shocked and dismayed son.

"Bu – but," Kyle sputtered, feeling himself start to panic a little.

"No buts buhbie. We'll have you patched up in no time, and then you can go off to university and meet a charming young woman who you'll fall in love with and marry and spend the rest of your life with."

Kyle found himself choking on his words, feeling the room cave in on him as he struggled to speak. "But… what if… I … don't?" He forced out, staring wide eyed at his mother. Never had he ever felt more betrayed in his life.

Sheila frowned at her son. "Don't be silly, Kyle. Homosexuality is a sin." Kyle cried out slightly at this, not believing what was happening. Sheila ignored this, gently pushing her numb son back into his chair. "Eat up buhbie, your dinner's going cold, and then off to bed. Busy day tomorrow!" She exclaimed, clapping her hands together excitedly. Kyle nodded vaguely, feeling sick to his stomach while staring down at the suddenly unappetizing meal in front of him. He wanted to throw it against the wall. He wanted to see the plate smash. He wanted to yell and scream at his mother for leading him on, for thinking that she understood. Stan had been right. Whatever Mrs. Broflovski wanted, it couldn't have been good. And it wasn't, though the woman seemed quite convinced of the contrary.

But Kyle was not able to do any of this right now. He felt his eye twitch somewhere distant, suddenly feeling apart from his body and its movements as it ate the delicious meal that somehow turned bitter in his mouth, an emblem of his mother's love. Some part of him was still in denial; his mother had hugged him, told him that she loved him then refused to accept the fact that he was gay. Which he was. Wasn't he? He had to be.

After finishing his second dinner that night, Kyle blindly walked up the stairs in a home that didn't really feel his to a room that didn't really feel his. He collapsed on it, his face pushed into a pillow, breathing in its slightly musty smell. Curling into a ball on his side, he wondered how things could have possibly gone so wrong. And for once, he fell asleep almost immediately, face first on his bed, fully clothed and alone.

An hour later, a quiet noise was heard coming from the bathroom while Kyle slept. It played a short tune, imitating the infamous 'Uncle Fucka' from the Canadian movie he had loved as a child. After a few moments, the noise stopped, then started up again almost immediately. This happened four times before Stan left a worried message on his best friend's cell phone, demanding to know what had happened. The tune played again after half an hour, then once every hour for the following five hours before it was finally silent.

Chewing on his bottom lip and staring at the ceiling unable to sleep, Stan Marsh gave up and fell asleep alone also, wondering what ever had become of his boyfriend.

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