Rescue Me-Chapter 10
Disclaimer: Is still here and in effect. Rumors of its death or expiration have been greatly exaggerated.
Summary: The End of Part II. Everything comes to a head…somewhat literally.
Author's Notes: Well OK, the reviews for nine weren't what I hoped for…but there are several reasonable explanations. One is the two-day turnaround between chapters here, so naturally, the reviewing TIME has been sliced in half. Two…have you looked at the SP page lately? A lot of new postings recently…so many that this story has been pushed down to sixteen. Three-well…nine sucked. So, to make it up for you…here is the chapter in which everything that we've been building up to over the past few weeks comes to a head.
Reviews:
Flabz: Yep…and Kyle can think of a couple ways to utilize that new asshole Stan's gonna get ripped XD!
Zakuyoe: Erm…I think 25? I don't know…that really confused me. You are, indeed, on a oneshot roll! Thanks for the review and the fic!
Lilchicky004: Quite the opposite, actually. It only SEEMS like she's going to screw things over hardcore…and she will…for herself!
PPBunny: Get better! Remember the cure: Chicken soup and 7-up!
-.-
"WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN!?!" I hear in my ear. Wendy Marie Testaburger, my fiancée, is screaming her inquiry regarding my whereabouts in my left ear. Cringing, I yank the phone away.
"I'm not fucking kidding, Stanley Marsh, I think I deserve to know where the hell my husband-to-be is and why he hasn't been home since Friday morning!" she continues. I sigh. She won't stop until I answer, so…
"You're not going to want to hear this," I say.
"Yes I am!" she shrieks, "Now where the hell have you been and what have you been doing?"
"Friday morning, after practice, I found out that Kyle – you remember Kyle, right? – is teaching art at the High School. So we decided to go for a cup of coffee after school to catch up with each other, and then I found out that Kenny – the poor kid, remember? – runs a diner on the outskirts of town," I begin, pausing for a breath before continuing, " then we started talking, and I told him I was engaged to you, and he freaked out and left, and then Kenny told me he was going to kill himself because he's gay for me, so I went and chased after him. I got to his apartment just after he'd made the cuts, so I took him to the hospital, and then I got into an argument with Kenny, and then I went to the game, and then I went back to Kyle's apartment to look for answers.
"At his apartment, I found that he has a lot of that art that I have in my office that you don't really like…some 345 all told, but only 285 of them have me in them, and only about 140 of those have me as an angel, and the rest have me crying over a dying body. And the poetry…you read Poe, right? You read Emily Dickinson? This is worse. They're about me too. And then there's the book…oh Jesus the book. It's a 300 page rant about how minorities get fucked over by society. It's got a point, but…it's like some sort of explanation for the art and the poetry. But after reading all this, I decided that I needed to talk to Kyle about it, so I went back to the hospital, only to find out that they'd put him in a coma so his body could work off its Vicodin addiction – did I not mention that already? Kyle was a Vicodin addict, up until very recently, so the doctors put him in a coma. So I decided to wait with him until he woke up," I continue, pausing once again for breath.
"Anyway, this puts us up through Saturday evening, when they wanted me to leave Kyle's room, but I didn't want to and they wouldn't let me claim myself as family, so I cut my head open on a cabinet and got admitted to the hospital myself…and I spent all Sunday waiting for him to wake up, and they finally started letting up on the meds last night, so he woke up at about eleven this morning, then we got out of the hospital and came back to his apartment, and we started talking, and that's where we are now. Did you get all that? Do I need to go over anything?" I ask.
"…" I hear on the other end. "Waitaminute…Kyle's GAY? Seriously?" Of all the things in that narrative to question me about, she picks THAT? Jesus Christ her mind works in a strange way…
"Yeah, pretty seriously. Suicide's not something you try for fun. He said he wanted me to not have to worry about him, his addictions, his condition."
"So? Why didn't you just let him? I don't want you hanging around with drug-addicted emo fags, Stanley." Ouch…I'm actually stung by that remark.
"Wendy, maybe you don't quite understand. Kyle's my best friend. Best friends don't let best friends kill each other, no matter what the reason. I let him go before, but I'll be damned if I turn my back on him again. And don't call Kyle an emo fag. He's gay, yeah, but he's not a fag."
"Stanley." Again with the sickeningly sweet voice. "Are you going to seriously contend that a childhood friendship is more important than your relationship with the woman you're going to marry?"
"We're not married yet, Wendy. You don't control my life yet. I still have a little choice over who I want to talk to and spend time with. I can't have this wedding without Kyle, anyway. He's the best friend I ever had. Kenny's a poor man-whore, and Cartman…well, I don't see them issuing him a day pass for his mother's funeral, much less an old friend's wedding," I bite back.
"Oh sweetie, I didn't mean it like that. Of course you want Kyle to be your best man, I completely understand that, but…doesn't it make you a bit uneasy, that the man you're supposed to be so close to actually wants to be at the wedding, but only in my spot?" Trying to trick me into homophobia. That's never going to work on me…I'm way too tolerant. I lean forward, rubbing my temple with my spare hand, to give my reply.
"Not gonna work, Wendy," I say. "I didn't go through that Death Camp of Tolerance for nothing you know. I hung out with Kenny and Butters all through High School. The whole damn school thought they were gay. Turns out we were wrong about Kenny, but I don't think Butters surprised too many people when he came out of the closet. Do you remember what I said about it?"
"Of course I don't. It was five years ago, Stanley!" So much for women having memories that last forever.
"I told him that it was OK if he was gay, I didn't care one way or the other. Hell, even back in third grade when my dog ran away to Big Gay Al's Animal Sanctuary and I told everyone that it's OK to be gay…I'm not really concerned about it, Wendy." I'm up off the couch and pacing around the rug in front of the TV.
"OK, let me phrase it this way, Stan. Me or Kyle. You can't have both. Not anymore."
"Wendy," I plead, "don't make me do this! I can't choose between you or Kyle! Don't make me, you'll ruin everything!" Kyle is looking at me very interestingly, and appears to be straining to listen in. Not that it'll be too hard, Wendy's practically screaming.
"Stanley, if you really love me, there ISN'T a choice." Oh, son of a bitch. "In fact, I would go so far as to say that you absolutely must choose me. If you want to cure Kyle's addictions, if you really CARE about him, you have to take away the substances he's addicted to."
"I already took CARE of the Vicodin, Wendy!" I hiss back. "He's not going to get his hands on anymore of it. You should try being a little more supportive of me and my friends. I helped you when some of your girlfriends had issues, why can't you be a little understanding when some of my friends have a problem? Jesus Christ, you're worse than Kyle's mom, and I think everyone in the world concedes that she's the biggest bitch in the whole world.
"Wendy, I love you. I love you like it's going out of style. I think, however, that you're being a little hypocritical and condescending here. You're trying to dictate to me, and I might have let your run all over me when we were little, because I would do ANYTHING for you, but I do possess a spine. I'm capable of standing up for what I believe is right too. I'm going to help Kyle, whether you like it or not."
"That's just the thing, Stan," she says. "I said substances, plural. It's not just the Vicodin. Kyle is a Stan-addict. You have to remove YOURSELF from his life to cure him."
"That is the dumbest thing you've ever said," I reply. "I removed myself from his life once before. It was called college, and it led to this entire problem. I can't, in good conscience, do that."
"Well then, I guess I can't, in good conscience, marry someone that won't listen to reason!"
"Fine, break up with me!" I shout. "I don't need a dominatrix bitch for a wife anyway!"
"Screw you, Stan, I'm going home!"
"Go home then, bitch! And never call me again! I'm serious!" I shout, and I hang up, looking around for Kyle. He's not on the couch anymore, he's…
Right in my face.
And now, he's moving closer.
And now, he's kissing me.
Oh God, he's kissing me. Oh God, Oh God, Oh GOD!
-.-
Author's Notes: Yeah, it's not that long either. But I like it…it's a rather nice cliffhanger if I do say so myself. Tune in Thursday night/Friday morning for the resolution, same Style time, same Style channel!
Don't forget to review, either!
El autor