Like pliable machines, Eric's body clock had been programmed to fit the AAA's wake up call. Now that he was back into a more traditional routine (rising early because he had a full day of classes ahead of him), he had to take responsibility and set an alarm for himself. Which would have been easy, if he didn't have to get up at seven thirty in the morning, when he had now become accustomed to rising at nine.
And like most kids returning to school from a long break, the night before his first day as a proper student was restless. In the past, Eric had thought divorcing himself from summer vacation was hard, but six years without school made returning arduous.
Boredom and an inability to sleep made him burrow into his thoughts. Overwrought positive ones, like the fact that he had a morning class with Navin all to himself. And unnerving ones, like his meeting with Blavius II and the revelation that the AAA had indeed manipulated his situation with Kyle to get what they wanted… Whatever that was. Eric was still biding his time, so as not to set off a panic among the council if he moved too quickly.
With so much on his mind, Eric counted the stars until the dusky, desert morning painted his window pastel.
Operating on two hours sleep, he dressed on autopilot and trudged to the education center. He found his way to class early and tried to sneak in a ten minute nap before the other students – and his teacher – arrived. Feeling someone take a seat beside him, Eric cracked his eye open and saw Navin's smirking face. Eric jolted out of his slumber, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand to catch any embarrassing drool.
Turns out, engineering class wasn't as fun as he thought. On the first day at least, some theory had to be taught before they could move on to the practical (or so their teacher had them believe). Eric attempted to take some notes, if not to get out of his own head, then to keep him awake.
But Eric was antsy and tired and he soon found himself falling asleep on his tablet.
"Time Child?" Navin's voice, like a hand breaking through foggy dreams. "Time Child?" The question was followed by a sharp click. Eric was coming to, albeit rather slowly.
A kick to his shin snatched him away from slumber.
Eric groaned, blinking his bleary eyes, still a little disorientated…. Until he saw Navin sitting beside him, looking unimpressed, and a projector streaming notes against a large wall like computer code.
"What was that for?" Eric hissed, his shin still hurting.
"I was doing you a favour!" Navin replied. "You were about to fall asleep."
"I don't give a fuck," Eric grumbled, propping his hand under his chin, a makeshift pillow.
"Nice to see you wasting this opportunity," Navin muttered, typing up notes on his own cheap tablet.
"What?"
"Nothing," Navin sighed, before he glanced at Eric once again. But Navin's eyes quickly became fixed on him, Eric fought the urge to blush or look away, subtly bringing a hand to his cheek to see if he had something stuck to his face. Why else would Navin be looking at him?
Before Eric could come up with a casual way to ask Navin why he was staring at him, his crushes eyes fell to his tablet and the sparse notes on the screen.
"Let me have a look at your tablet," Navin said.
"No!" Eric hissed, pushing his tablet closer to him.
"Why?" Navin asked, careful to keep his voice soft. "What's on there that you don't want me to see?"
"Nothing!" That was kind of why Eric didn't want Navin to look at it in the first place. Eric rolled his eyes. "Why do you want to look at it, anyway?"
"Science, what's up with the suspicion?"
"You're one to talk, wanting to snoop around my tablet…"
"Just let me look-"
Fatigue - along with Navin's scent and warmth being in such close proximity that Eric could practically inhale it - caught him unawares. Before he could argue, or press the tablet closer to him, Navin snatched it.
Eric scowled and folded his arms, heat flooding his face as Navin read his pitiful notes. Not like it took him that long.
"Pfft, you are so far behind," Navin said, not even looking at Eric as he slid his tablet back over to him.
"Thanks," Eric replied sardonically. "But that's none of your business."
Moving his stool away from Navin, Eric shielded his tablet and burning face with his arm. He only had twenty minutes left in this class. He could stomach his anger, his embarrassment and his insufferable crush for twenty minutes. And he wouldn't sleep, no, he would take the rest of the notes that were spread across the wall.
"Here," a stern whisper, but another tablet – Navin's tablet – prodded shyly at Eric's elbow.
Eric looked up and saw that not only was the tablet closer, but Navin was too. Invading his personal space in a way that Eric had never daydreamed or fantasised about before. Maybe because Eric was wholly unprepared, sleep deprived and surrounded by bored students and a strict, otter teacher. Not exactly the romantic or sensual setting he usually envisioned when Navin was this close to him.
"You can copy off my notes," Navin offered. "Just try to be quick, okay?"
"Alright…" Eric muttered, his surprised fingers stumbling over the screen belied his nonchalance.
"And?"
"What?"
"Did manners not exist five hundred years ago?"
Irritating and cheeky, making Eric roll his eyes. But why was he fighting the urge to smile?
"Oh, thank you, Navin…"
"You're welcome, Time Child."
"And while we're on the subject, I'm sixteen. I've out grown out of the whole 'Time Child' thing, okay? Call me Eric, everybody else does."
"Except the otters…"
"Well, those assholes never listen to me, anyway," Eric said, even more distracted by conversation now, but so was Navin. "Must be their fur."
A chuckle Eric had never heard before, his heart stuttered.
"Kind of impractical, don't you think?" Navin grinned. "Having fur in their ears?"
"Okay, maybe not fur…" Eric replied, before chuckling. "Hey, they're sea otters! Maybe they have some saltwater sploshing around in there."
Navin laughed into his hand, and Eric wanted to hear it out in the open, strong and genuine and endeared to Eric.
"What, like if you picked one of them up, tipped them upside down and shook them, water would come pouring out?" Navin asked.
Eric grinned at the image, like anybody could pick the otters up, evolved as they were. "Like a garden hose…" Eric added, regardless.
"A what?"
Eric furrowed his eyebrows, but then remembered. It was easy to dismiss the language barrier, or in this case, the time barrier.
"Right, I forgot we're in the future," Eric teased. "The concept of a garden hose goes right over your head, doesn't it?"
"The future?" Navin chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "No, we're in the present. This is my turf…"
"Really?" Eric asked and elbows touched. "Your turf?"
Navin shrugged and smirked. "My century, then."
Eric's laugh was shallow, caught up in a charming smirk and amber… No, hazel. Now that Eric was close enough, he was staring into decidedly hazel eyes. How hadn't he noticed the flecks of green?
"Cartman!" A voice thankfully snapped Eric out of his haze before he fell any deeper. "Shaveck!"
They both looked up to a see their class staring back and the teacher's own gaze boring holes into them.
Maybe not so thankful.
"Anything you'd like to share?" The teacher asked. Eric was amazed that teachers were still using lines like that.
"Um, no," Eric replied. "No, sir."
"Then shut up and pay attention," the teacher said sternly. "You can continue your discussion at lunch when you're clearing out the storage closet."
Navin cursed under his breath, but Eric couldn't bring himself to be disappointed. After all, he had more alone time with Navin. Such a handsome distraction.
It was pretty easy to drown out the principal's speech when Kyle was immersed in his own. He shuffled his papers, made last minute changes in his mind that he hoped he would remember when faced with a gym of his peers and disco lights.
Wendy had given him some encouragement before he slinked off backstage, Thomas, Kenny and Stan too were there with words of support. Crowds weren't daunting to Kyle, but this subject matter… Kyle didn't want to go into too much detail, something better suited for a counsellor's office than a supposedly light-hearted school dance. He didn't want the letter to read like a eulogy, because a fierce part of him defied the notion that Cartman was dead. He didn't know what a better alternative would be, however. He wanted the speech to be optimistic and respectful, but honest. Writing it had been cathartic, his selfish motive all along, the words were sealed with closure. Or the hope for it.
Applause jolted Kyle out of his thoughts and when he looked up, the principal was ushering him onto the stage from his little podium.
Kyle nodded and smiled tightly, stepping out onto the stage and squinting at the harsh lighting. Did cheap fixtures have to be so bright? And hot, Kyle was sweating already. Maybe the damp prickling at his skin was due to nerves, adrenaline, a combination of both as well as the overbearing lighting?
"Th-thanks," Kyle said to the principal, who was now walking off stage.
Shuffling his papers discreetly, Kyle stared out into the muted crowd. He saw Stan waving, Kenny smiling and Thomas looking at him encouragingly. Kyle looked right at his boyfriend as he took a deep breath.
"Some of you may not have known him, but those who did know him will never forget him," Kyle wasn't expecting the crowd to chuckle. Maybe he should have put in breaks for laughter? But this was a student speech not a comedy routine. He continued. "Eric Cartman was a kid from South Park - where a lot of the student body comes from – and he went missing six years ago. We don't know how it happened, we still don't know where he is, but if things had played out a little differently, he would have been in this gym today." Kyle paused to smirk. "He may have been planning some elaborate prank with Kenny McCormick," just like Kyle asked him to, the lighting guy thrust a spotlight on Kenny. The crowd chuckled and Kenny grinned, with Butters barely blossoming in the excess glow. "Or arguing with me about something totally benign," Kyle added.
"Six years ago, I don't think I would have been able to be so light-hearted about his disappearance," The crowd sobered. "Some days are tough even now, and it's hard to see the light through this black hole he's left in so many lives. It seems like a technicality but time can heal, it can't completely fix.
"I had known Eric since I was in preschool, and along with Stan Marsh and Kenny McCormick, I spent nearly every second of my childhood with him. He was a pretty indefinable person, so it makes sense that his relationships with people were hard to explain. And when you're a kid, when the future is just a tiny speck of dust in an already small world, you don't put that much stock in people. You take them for granted because you can't imagine a day going by without them. Your friends or your family, even the neighbours who you don't really talk to, they're fundamental without you even realising it. Loss is something little kids shouldn't have to deal with, it's too big of a monster to put under their bed. When Eric disappeared…"
Kyle felt his breath catch, heard the sound when the microphone caught it. Kyle glanced at the crowd, his friends sharing his grief and Thomas' eyes shining with worry. But Kyle was defiant, he'd get through this.
"When Eric disappeared," Kyle continued strongly, "I watched this pillar – this admittedly volatile, complicated, sometimes downright annoying pillar – disappear right before my eyes with no explanation, and getting it back was completely out of my control. These pillars, people in my life who were there because I needed to them to be, had been invisible and dependable until one of them had gone missing. Then you start to cling to the other pillars, you start to doubt their sturdiness. They protect you from the bad things, the harsh things, how the real world sadly is. Where things are random and finite and unfair. Naively, as most kids are, I thought that just one thing going missing wasn't a big deal. That it didn't have a ripple effect. Even Eric, who bugged the hell out of me most of the time, was still important to me and necessary and I cared about him. Deeply. When he was gone, I struggled under the weight of his absence. Despite my stubbornness and my optimism and the other pillars who were suffering like I was, it felt like everything was crashing down. Like the universe was coming off its axis. When you're a kid, forever still seems possible. Time passes slowly when you're bored or upset or scared. And this emptiness, this doubt and confusion and grief, doesn't let up and it feels like you're going down a road that never ends."
Kyle had submerged into thoughts and ephiphanies that were six years in the making, articulating and unravelling webs and webs of muddled introspection. He needed to breathe before he moved on to something lighter. He stared out into the crowd once again, saw Stan, Kenny and Thomas smiling proudly, his peers hooked on his every word, and Butters was smiling too, forlornly, with tears in his eyes. It reminded Kyle of his eyes own stinging, and he continued.
"Growing up sucks," he stopped to allow another warm chuckle. "But it makes us tougher, it makes us stronger, it makes us less reliant on our pillars because we can stand on our own two feet," Kyle smiled. "But we love our pillars and cherish them, and a part of us will always need them. Your tiny world, where bruises are like war wounds, opens up to new people and experiences and you suddenly find yourself becoming bigger and smarter. But most importantly, you become braver. Even when you're faced with all new challenges and paths, when you feel like running back to that old world, your bravery and your pillars encourage you to walk or run or however you want to go through life. And for all of us in this room, this is just the beginning," Kyle glanced up at his peers, all of them standing on the same exciting and terrifying precipice. "You gain perspective. Eric isn't here, but his memory is and that's never going away. Eric isn't here, but my other pillars are strong and I will never take them for granted. Eric isn't here, in front of us-" the spoken words ploughed through Kyle's heart more severely than he anticipated. Even with the adrenaline, bravery and support, acknowledging Cartman's absence was like pulling the King of Hearts out of a tower of cards. The words were becoming blurry, cheap lights fluffed up like cotton wool, still, Kyle soldiered on. "But I can still feel him," the words were shaky and clogged with tears. "I can feel him in my thoughts and in my heart. Always." A simple affirmation, to slap a band-aid over Kyle's emotional punctures and he smiled. "And if he could talk to me right now, he'd probably be ripping on me because speeches are lame." Another burst of laughter and Kyle grinned to himself. "Uh, thank you."
Wolf whistles from Stan and Kenny sliced through the thunderous applause, and the lights caught Kyle's wobbly, grateful grin.
~x~
When Eric arrived at the engineering classroom and its vast storage closet for detention (on the first day of school no less, a new record for Eric), he was met by his teacher's sadistic grin, Navin's foul mood and his smouldering expression. Eric had thought him dreamy when he smirked, laughed or ran a hand through his caramel colored hair, but his earnest eyes and sweetheart scowl… Stereotypically handsome admittedly, (unlike another young man vying for attention in Eric's heart) but it didn't dull his appeal. Eric had never seen guys who looked like Navin, outside of his mom's Playgirls he had 'accidentally' discovered.
Their teacher presented them with a large box cluttered with unorganised junk, and gave them vague instructions on where each piece of obscure equipment should go, before leaving them to it.
Navin had huffed and set to work immediately, while Eric pulled up a stool and tried to amuse his grumpy crush with less than respectful comments about their teacher. Eventually, Eric got an exasperated chuckle out of Navin, oiling the cogs of conversation.
"So if you could invent anything at all, what would it be?" Eric asked, setting yet another screw-like object into its allocated compartment.
"Hmmm…" Navin pondered, chin tilted and lips pursed. "Something that helps people, feeds them when rations are scarce. A machine that can distribute food for every family so nobody will ever go hungry."
Eric smiled, Navin's selflessness was naïve but undoubtedly sweet. For somebody whose immediate instinct was to put himself before other people, Eric sure had a soft spot for the compassionate.
"Kind of how in the bible when Jesus fed, like, five thousand people with a couple of loaves of bread and some fish?" Eric asked with a grin.
Navin's eyebrows knitted together as he sorted through the box. "Uh, I've never heard that story."
"Have you heard of Jesus?" Eric asked, surprised that he wasn't more incredulous. Culture and religion had been lost in the tidal wave of new ideology.
"Vaguely," Navin admitted. "Who is he, exactly? What did he do? Besides feed people?"
Eric thought back to obligatory Sunday school lessons, sleepy sermons and his own sins. Maybe his whole predicament, his situation for the last six years was penance?
"I don't think I'm the best person to tell you about Jesus," Eric chuckled, avoiding Navin's curious face.
Out of the corner of his eye, Eric saw Navin smile and nod in acquiescence.
"So how about you, Ti-" Navin stopped himself, Eric looked up and waited. "Eric. If you could invent anything at all, what would it be?"
Eric knew the answer, his ultimate dream that would right his wrongs more than a time phone or a brief vacation to the past ever could. Something to unite and correct, the perfect way to start over.
"A time machine that could take me back to the past for good," Eric answered, hoping they could move on to something lighter.
"But time machines already exist," Navin said. "Otherwise, the AAA wouldn't be letting you return in the first place."
Eric snickered sardonically under his breath. "But I haven't told you the best part about that deal, have I?"
Navin moved away from the box and drifted closer to Eric. "Which is?"
Eric sighed. "I'm only allowed to go back once. For forty-eight hours. Nice twenty first birthday present, huh?" Another sardonic chuckle, how ironic was it that humour could be relief for disappointment?
Navin nodded and remarked quietly, "seems a little bittersweet…"
Eric shrugged, what more could he do? He had his deal and the AAA were standing by it. If he even tried to fight or negotiate then Eric would lose his opportunity forever. Kyle's life, his chance at life, was more important than Eric's ego, his injustice. It was comforting in a way, that Eric had somebody in his heart who he deemed just as important as himself.
"Still, forty-eight hours…" Navin seemed to speak to himself, before he questioned Eric. "Have you got anything planned? Things you want to do? Places and people you want to see?"
"Yeah, I have somebody I want to see," Eric nodded, he remembered Kyle's file. "Well… Save," He muttered, mood plummeting.
"Save?" Navin had heard him.
Eric had never had to explain his situation with Kyle, his mission, before.
"Yeah," Eric shrugged, avoiding Navin's eyes once again. "Something bad is going to happen to them, and I… I figure that if I'm going back for a little while, then I should do something about it. Maybe it'll make me feel better? Like my visit meant something."
Not to mention I love them, more than I even know.
Eric had figured out the whole 'saving Kyle' part, but he hadn't given much thought to their inevitable separation. The nobility of his mission, he hoped, would soothe the sting a little.
"Wow," Navin whispered, "that's really…"
Navin searched for a word, while Eric studied him with furrowed brows.
"That's great, Eric," Navin nodded, voice strong and sure.
"Thanks," Eric smiled, already feeling the color rush to his face.
"Who?"
"What?"
"Who are you going to save?" Navin clarified.
Eric gulped, suddenly interested in the hardly-depleting contents of the box.
"Why does it matter?" Eric asked. "It's not like you know them…"
Navin rolled his eyes and sidled up to Eric, a sure fire way to break him and he didn't even notice. "Yeah, but what are they to you?" Navin pressed. "Family? A friend?"
"A, a friend," Eric quickly replied, saving them time so they could move on. But pinning that word on his relationship with Kyle… Did it do them justice? It seemed weak and half-true.
"Maybe," Eric added, rattling his brain for a better term when there was none. "I don't know… It-it's complicated. Just stop interrogating me, okay?" Eric burned at his shakiness, inwardly berating himself.
"I'm not interrogating you!" Navin said, understandably indignant. "I'm taking an interest in you! Like friends do-"
"I don't want to talk about it!" Eric interrupted, facing Navin and he saw his wild reflection in Navin's startled eyes. "If you were my friend you'd know that talking about this makes me uncomfortable and you would drop it!"
Navin's eyes darted rapidly over Eric, probably taking in more of him than he ever had before. They simmered, and Navin sighed. "Alright. You're right, I won't talk about it."
"Okay…" Eric mumbled, struggling to decompress like Navin had. He was still riled, still confused.
"For the record," Navin began, and Eric had a feeling he wouldn't like what was about to come out of his mouth. "I only brought it up because I'm concerned."
What?
Eric didn't know if he felt figured out or… Pleasantly surprised.
"Concerned?" Eric questioned. "Why?"
"The other day, when we were talking about the emotional endurance test, something was up with you," Navin answered. "We haven't known each other for that long, but I could tell something wasn't right."
"Wow," Eric murmured, "Maybe you should be taking a psychology class."
A small huff of exasperation escaped Navin's mouth.
"I'm not going to let you change the subject," Navin shook his head, and Eric bristled further. "And that has little to do with psychology, I'm just curious-"
"About what?" Eric cut in sharply.
"Did something happen during your emotional endurance test?" Navin asked, his soft concern was resilient against Eric's razored stubbornness. "Did they do something to you?"
"And why do you want to know, Navin?" Eric asked, dodging a straight answer but squaring up to Navin. "So you have another reason to hate the AAA? To antagonise them?"
His response was misguided and transparent, so Eric wasn't surprised when Navin didn't buy it.
"They deserve to be antagonised and you know it," Navin accused. "Or do you?"
Their eyes were locked, bodies taut to overcompensate for verbal blows and slipping masks. But they were close enough that their noses could have touched.
"After what you did six years ago, after you betrayed us everybody hated you," Navin said, and Eric's eyes fell to his lips, no longer kissable but wielding accusations, and bitter truths. "Do you have any idea how hurt people were by your actions? How you let your own kind down?"
Eric's eyes – and his anger – rose. "My own kind?!" He shouted incredulously and he lurched forward, bearing down on his crush. "Nobody here is my own kind, Navin! I'm totally fucking alone! So before you call me a traitor, think about what I had to do to survive! To get back home! Where my own kind really were. And if you really want to get into what I did six years ago, then yeah, I regret it. So much. Because it didn't get anybody anywhere-"
"Is that why you made that speech at the public trial?" Navin countered, bringing Eric back down to Earth and to the fault lying in him. "When you stood up for us?"
Eric didn't respond, stony-faced.
"Without even knowing it, you made people believe in you again," Navin continued, and Eric detected bitterness that he suspected all along. "And Ulesi, Avery and Sam… They may be so desperate and hopeful that they cling to you, but I still resent you, Time Child."
An honest blow that caused Eric's face to crease. Confused by how Navin had hurt him so, but also because he didn't know where this argument was heading.
"Where the fuck are you going with all of this?!" Eric demanded. "Was that something you needed to get out of your system?!"
"I'm being honest with you!" Navin answered, a tentative truce. "Because that's what friends do. Regardless of politics or deals."
Eric folded his arms across his chest and turned away, protecting himself from Navin, openness and comradery.
"I want to be your friend, Eric," Navin implored, sincerity settling their fight. "I want to understand you. I want you to trust me,"
Eric felt well-meaning fingers on his arm, but they weren't welcome.
"I've made that mistake before," Eric shrugged Navin's hand away and ignored the hurt expression on his crush's face. "And I know that…" he paused, trying to find a reason to put Navin in the wrong, his last defence and his only option. "You can't manipulate people to get them to trust you, not truly. I've tried. Trust is involuntary."
Navin exhaled and Eric's own mean-spiritedness made him sick.
"Then just know that I don't want to betray you," Navin said. "I want to listen to you, and help you and if you ever decide to tell me what happened in that endurance test, I'll listen. Not because I want another AAA scandal to be outraged about, but because getting things off your chest is good."
Navin let his offer hang for a moment.
"Confiding in your friends is good," Navin added, and Eric could tell he was trying.
Trying to be something Eric couldn't handle right now. But why should Eric admit that was his problem? His issue to work through? When he could blame somebody else?
"Friends would know what stuff to leave alone," Eric said, measured, sour, unfeeling although his emotions were running haywire under his façade. "You act so concerned and like you're in the right, like I'm the freak. You say you don't want to manipulate me? Well, that's what it feels like…"
There's manipulation going on, alright. But you know damn well it's not coming from him.
Navin, pursed his lips, projected guilt. Every messy moment was a dagger twisting in Eric's gut. Making him colder, sicker, and disgusted.
He couldn't stay, he had to leave, and that's exactly what he did.
"Eric, wait!" Navin called out as Eric left the room unceremoniously. "Come back! You can't leave me with all this shit!"
Literal or metaphorical?
"Says who?" Eric shouted, voice uneven.
"Science damn it, you're gonna get us in even more trouble!" Navin yelled.
"I don't give a fuck!" Eric cried.
A bare-faced lie, Eric could hardly stomach apathy anymore.
Inundated with praise, and his uplifting words – warmer than sun rays - boring a hole in his pocket, Kyle had spent the evening floating. And showed no signs of touching Earth when Thomas asked him to dance. Kyle had warned Thomas of his lack of rhythm, but Thomas assured him that lazily waltzing to cheesy love songs wasn't too difficult. Besides, Thomas would lead.
Kyle rolled his eyes, played the reluctant date, but he had been secretly looking forward to the inevitable dance.
"How are you feeling?" Thomas asked as they both swayed to the music.
Kyle stared up at the ceiling of the gym as he thought of the right words. "Better, smarter, like things are becoming clearer."
Thomas grinned, adoring and eyes gleaming. The same way he had looked at Kyle when he was wrapped in his arms, after his bedroom door was locked and virginities were lost. Sweet and fumbling the first time, the two weren't expecting fireworks. But the sex was good enough to make them try again, and Kyle was determined to make Thomas feel incredible.
"I'm proud of you," Thomas said, pressing his forehead to Kyle's. He still felt sweaty from the lights, the nerves, but Thomas didn't seem to care.
"Really?" Kyle smiled.
"Of course!" Thomas chuckled incredulously, tucking a curl behind Kyle's ear and thumbing at his cheek. "You're so brave, Kyle."
Surrounded by dozens of other young couples, Kyle blushed and ducked his head. "It was nothing-"
"Not to that little kid you were six years ago," Thomas cut in, Kyle looked up and felt his heart flutter at his boyfriend's earnest expression. "Can you imagine him giving that speech? That he ever thought he could?"
Thomas was right, why should Kyle be humble? What was stopping him from feeling proud? He was always acknowledging that he would never totally be 'over' Cartman's disappearance. But success doesn't have to be found in completion, it can be found in trying, in progress.
"What you did tonight," Thomas continued when Kyle didn't say anything. "It was huge."
Kyle ducked away again, his fingers curling at his boyfriend's sides. "Thanks," he smiled. "You…"
"What?"
"Just- I can be a little hard on myself sometimes," Kyle admitted, corners of his mouth turning down but his eyes still brimmed with gratefulness. "And you give me a break. I mean, help me to give myself a break."
Thomas offered him a tight smile, before he hedged. His gaze sliding from Kyle's eyes, and his lips brushed against Kyle's pinked cheek. "Well, I love you."
Kyle stiffened slightly in Thomas' arms, instinctively tightening his grip. Another first.
"I love you too," Kyle replied, because the timing was right, and that was about it.
Eric hid for the rest of detention, fleeing to the topmost floor of the building, stretching his legs out on the highest step. He fiddled with his tablet to distract from falling asleep. But his mind was miles away anyway, embarrassed and irrationally angry at what happened between him and Navin. Luckily, Eric didn't have to see him until the following day, and he hoped that a brief patch of time would heal the sting.
When he returned to his quarters, Eric fell asleep immediately. His slumber wasn't blighted by dreams of Kyle or his pissed off crush, just murky, grey static. A fog that his alarm lifted immediately.
A confrontation with Navin was looming, and it seemed the day was keen to hurry it along. To perhaps help Eric get it over with, or because their confrontation promised to be as explosive as their fight the day before? Eric didn't want to know, but he knew it wasn't going to be pretty.
An obnoxious buzz midway through the day told Eric it was lunch already. He sighed, packed his bag and dragged his feet across the campus to join Navin in detention. There, he was greeted by a frowning, stubborn Navin and a less than pleased engineering teacher who had heard of what happened yesterday.
Eric had glared at Navin the tattle-tale, only feeling slightly smug when Navin's honesty bit them both in the ass. Another week of detention to make up for their half-completed job. Again, Eric only felt slightly smug because he didn't want to waste his lunch in a storage closet, not with Navin mad at him anyway.
With instructions repeated and a warning "not to run away", Eric and Navin were left to organise the closet of junk.
"I'm sorry, Eric," Navin eventually said, sparing them from more stilted silence. "For yesterday."
Eric's hand froze, clutching a tiny, plastic cylinder. Surprise prickled in his chest, caught in his throat.
"Okay, cool," Eric nodded, avoiding Navin's eyes. "I appreciate it."
The moment passed and Eric put the cylinder in its assigned compartment, returning to work. Now that he had his apology, he was happy to spend the rest of detention in silence.
"Aren't you going to apologise to me?" Navin asked, and when Eric glanced up, Navin was looking at him expectantly.
Eric swallowed, guilt transferred like a virus. Eric couldn't remember how it felt to be immune. "For what?"
Navin scoffed indignantly. "For leaving me with all this shit and getting us in even more trouble! It's your fault we have an extra week of this!"
"Well, if you hadn't pissed me off I wouldn't have stormed out and gotten us in trouble," Eric countered. "So really, it is all your fault."
He flashed Navin a mean smile, unprepared for the thrumming ache of arousal as Navin pouted and his pupils blotted hazel irises.
Does he always have to look so handsome?
Navin exhaled through his nose and he rested his palms flat on the work table. "If I take full responsibility for all this, will you tell me what happened in the endurance test?" he offered, no hint of subterfuge, just an honest deal about ugly things.
Stark, painful things that Eric was reluctant to share. Try terrified to divulge.
"Science damn it, Navin…" Eric grumbled, throwing down a small bolt into its compartment with the others, pleased by its loud, impatient smack. "People tend to get annoyed by persistence, you realise that, right?"
"But it gets results," Navin smiled cockily.
Eric rolled his eyes, averting his gaze. "Not today,"
In a less awkward silence, Eric pondered Navin's proposal, his persistence, and all he had told Eric yesterday. About confiding in others, friendship, honesty, the need to care for people. It should have been clear what Navin was getting at, but one thing still eluded Eric.
The 'why' of it all. Why did Navin want to know so badly if it wasn't for the reasons Eric's was suspicious of?
He turned back to Navin, arms folded and eyes narrowed. "Why do even you want to know so badly?"
Navin shrugged. "I told you, you're my friend-"
"I know that," Eric sighed, not wanting to prompt round two of yesterday's fight. "And I told you that pushing a subject, putting the kind of pressure you put on me yesterday isn't what friends do. In my experience, anyway."
Navin's gaze fell to the floor in defeat, or perhaps unwelcomed truth. Eric saw honesty there, only a brief inch of it. But it was enough. Eric had been isolated and untrusting for so long, it made him unusually pine for a connection.
"But if we're bargaining then…" Eric stopped himself, considered a stubborn out before he pushed on. "You tell me the real reason why you want to know, and I'll tell you what happened during that test."
Navin's wide eyes rose, and Eric wondered if it he was actually being deceived by such blinding handsomeness. "Really?"
"Sure," Eric shrugged, trying to convince himself it wasn't a big deal when he could feel his stomach knotting. "As much information as I want to disclose, anyway. Deal?"
"Deal," Navin nodded, marred with a smile. As if his smile could tarnish anything.
"Okay," Eric began, unsure how they were to go about this, a cumbersome exchange. "So, why, Navin? Why do you want to know?"
Navin chuckled, scratching at his arm absently. "I told you how I felt about you because I wanted to be honest," he said, gradually easing himself into the seriousness of the conversation and taking Eric with him. "And despite my resentment, despite the fact that I'll never fully trust you… I like you."
Eric blinked, Navin took it as an excuse to pause before he elaborated. "I think you're funny and driven and smart and intolerant to people's bullshit. I respect that."
Eric snickered, ducking his head away from the compliments.
"I want to be your friend," Navin continued earnestly. "Reaching out to you and caring about you and wanting to know if something is wrong, that comes with the territory. That's why I want to know."
"But how can I trust you?" Eric asked, careful not to let the question disintegrate into a whisper. "How do I know you're not going to tell anybody?"
"I'm great at keeping secrets," Navin said, stepping closer to Eric.
"Everybody says that," Eric mumbled, struggling not to break under Navin's oblivious charm.
"I mean it," Navin smiled. "I have a good track record."
Eric looked up, saw his own unsure expression in Navin's imploring eyes. Well-meaning, Eric realised, but there was still pressure there, harder to shake than molasses.
"For what it's worth," Eric said. "I think you're alright too."
Navin smiled warmly, the corners of his eyes wrinkled. "Thanks, Eric."
Light as well as heat shone through Navin's smile, encouraging and tentatively breaking apart whatever was holding Eric back.
Eric closed his eyes in preparation, and began. "I'm not going into detail-"
"I wasn't expecting you to."
The interjection was jarring, but Eric supposed he needed the reassurance. "Okay, so…" Eric knew he was skirting around the subject, he should just dive straight in. "During the endurance test, they showed me a person. This… person I used to know, who I knew my entire life. It was so real, if I hadn't known any better I would have reached out and touched them. Hugged them, even." Eric smiled forlornly, his ten year old self still missed Kyle's embrace. "I was so glad to see them again. After all this time. But they ignored me, acted like I didn't even exist and… Science, it fucking killed me. Then they said- they said that going back wouldn't change anything. That too much had been ruined for me to try to fix-"
"Wait, is this the same person you're going back to save?" Navin jumped in.
Wow, who knew you were so obvious?
"Yeah," Eric nodded, he might as well admit to it. "Figures, right?"
"Who is this person, anyway?" Navin asked, the boundaries and terms of their deal forgotten, replaced instead by concern. "Your friend?"
"I don't know," Eric said tersely, the heaviness and despair of that observatory all came rushing back. "And I guess I never will. I've just got to rescue them and get back here. No conversations about our relationship, what would be the point?"
A bitter, rhetorical question, but Navin looked almost guilty when he couldn't offer Eric an answer, an alternative.
"Eric?" he said instead.
"Yeah?" Eric asked, praying for a change in subject.
"Was this person..." Navin trailed off, reconsidered his phrasing. "Did you have a crush on them or something?"
The line that Eric had drawn up years ago, to protect himself from the upper hand of others had been kicked, whipped up in the desert sand by a persistent guy who made his heart race.
Figured out.
"Why would you think that?" Eric asked, he still had pride, and the ability to lie.
"Because you seem to be…" Navin wasn't so gifted, he stumbled over words honestly while Eric worked hard to keep control. No slip ups, no vulnerability. "I don't know, you don't call them your friend but you seem to have pretty strong feelings for them."
Eric was determined to redraw the line, keep the curtains shut to protect the person who had holed himself up in his pride for so long.
"No offense, Navin," Eric said, and he felt yesterday's coldness return. "But you don't know me well enough to make an assumption like that."
"What do you mean?"
"Friendships have never been my strong suit," Eric explained, better to have Navin distance himself than Eric try to outrun his persistence, or how close he was to the truth, for that matter. "And my past friendships haven't exactly been successful."
Navin nodded, although confused by the volatile nature of the conversation. "I see…"
Eric could indeed outrun Navin, passively dissuade him from pursuing a friendship. After all, manipulation had always been a skill of Eric's, a great survival tactic. But he didn't want to lose Navin, for reasons aesthetic or unnervingly sentimental he didn't know.
There must have been a way to keep him around, but steer him away from what he was trying to find out.
Throw him off the trail. Eric already had an idea without straying too far from the facts.
"Besides," Eric stepped forward, already nervous and exhilarated about putting his plan in motion. "I already have a crush,"
Before Navin could ask who, Eric grabbed him and pulled him close. Squeezing his eyes shut, he crashed their lips together.
"I love you too,"
As soon as the words were out of his mouth Kyle felt his self-imposed walls closing in, no space left in a corner he had backed himself into. The disco lights, a charming, acquired taste had resumed their abrasive, obnoxious stare now Kyle was under pressure once again.
The classmates who had cheered him and congratulated him were now shoving him, pushing him into a reality he didn't want to address when this night had been so amazing.
Even Thomas, who had proven to be the gentle, uncomplicated, beautiful distraction Kyle needed when his head was filled with unanswered questions and grief, was making him claustrophobic. A newly erected pillar to support him, now crushing him with anxious guilt.
Kyle mumbled an excuse and slipped out of Thomas' hold easily, navigating his way through the crowd until he reached the restroom. Empty, thankfully.
Locking himself in a stall, Kyle buried his head in his hands and gripped his curls.
What the hell is wrong with you?
Kyle didn't know. He never thought there was anything truly wrong with him until he just lied to his boyfriend without even blinking, when he couldn't seem to summon up love for such an amazing person. What was stopping him? What obstacle did they need to overcome? Grief? Lack of trust? A neurological disorder? They had ploughed through all of those things. So young and so fast.
It wasn't a pressure to fall in love that scared Kyle, he kidded himself that would love would come if he just allowed himself time. It was the fact that he lied – that he felt he needed to lie – to Thomas, when all that boy ever did was be honest with him. Even when Kyle didn't want to hear the truth, Thomas came straight out with it. Uncomfortable but necessary.
When Kyle was being stubborn or irrational or just plain scared, Thomas was there. Giving him everything, and Kyle couldn't give him love in return?
No, Kyle had given him something. He'd given him trust, the benefit of the doubt, and his care. He did care for Thomas, so much so that he lied in the first place. After all, who would want their confession of love to be rejected? Kyle not returning the words, trying to explain himself in the middle of the dancefloor would have crushed him.
But what would Thomas be more disappointed about? Knowing that you don't love him or that you lied to him?
Kyle ground out a frustrated cry, wanting to kick the wall behind him. That was the infuriating thing about Thomas. Saintly, understanding Thomas. All his life he had wanted a relationship rid of disappointment and embarrassment over his condition, so he refused to let others feel how he felt. No matter what the affliction.
But how much more could Kyle inadvertently hurt him? Kyle was a good person, but Thomas deserved better. The realisation was a heavy ache in Kyle's chest.
Raising his hands and dragging his palms along his scalp, Kyle took a heavy breath and left the stall. He caught sight of himself in the mirror, and offered the sorry reflection a sad smile.
"Hey, Kyle."
"Shit!" Kyle yelped, jumping when he saw a patient – now startled - Butters lingering by the door to the restroom.
"Oh," Kyle sighed shakily, forcing a smile despite his embarrassment. "Hey, Butters."
"Are you enjoying yourself?" Butters asked, edging forward.
Kyle glanced at his reflection, and half-lied. "Yeah, I'm having a great time. What's up, man?"
The storm cloud returned, casting a sad, uneasy shadow over Butters' face. "Uh, I was wondering if I could talk to you. In private."
Kyle stared around the empty restroom. "Right now?"
Butters nodded, eyes wide and hands tucked behind his back.
"Um, okay…" Kyle acquiesced.
"But maybe we should-" Butters gestured to the door.
"Sure…" Kyle mumbled, it felt nice to detach from his heavy heart and go through the motions, letting Butters lead him out the door.
The dull glow of the hallway lights, their blurry reflection on the gleaming floor, was a welcome respite from the starkness of the restroom and the disco lights inside the gym.
"Your speech was... It was awesome, Kyle," Butters smiled as they strolled aimlessly.
"Thanks," Kyle replied.
"It was really uplifting," Butters continued. "I think Eric would have liked it."
"I'm not so sure he would." Kyle chuckled.
Regardless, Butters offered Kyle a tight smile and he came to a slow stop in front of a locker.
"So, what is it that you wanted to talk to me about?" Kyle asked, keeping a comfortable distance so as not to deter Butters from what he wanted to say.
Butters dropped his head immediately, lemon blond bangs falling to his eyes. But Kyle could see his mouth hanging limply open, could see him bump his knuckles together.
Butters exhaled, heavy but shaky too. When he met Kyle's eyes, his brow was knitted. "It's about Eric," he admitted.
Kyle's mood plummeted further. "Oh…"
Butters nodded, head dropping once again. "Yeah." Hardly audible.
Kyle remembered his speech, how far he had come, he would be an idiot to dismiss his own words.
"Butters, it's okay," Kyle tried to sound convincing, adopting the strong tone he had used for his speech.
He stared at Butters, his knuckles forever knocking together and his creased face was disconcerting to say the least.
"Actually," Kyle said tentatively. "I noticed you acting strangely when I volunteered to do the speech in the first place."
Butters' aqua eyes flickered, a good sign. "You did?"
"Yeah," Kyle nodded. "Look, whatever you want to talk about I'll listen."
A smile twitched. "Really?"
Kyle nodded again, he felt like he was holding them both up. Kyle was weak too, but needed to be strong.
Butters' smile glowed and widened, showing off his teeth. "I thought you would," he said. "You've always been so understanding, Kyle. And compassionate. We've known each other a long time too so I thought – And after you made that speech, it made me see things a little differently."
Butters trailed off, the corners of his mouth drooping as the seriousness returned. "I figured I should talk to you. That you'd, um, understand."
"Okay, well, I'll try" Kyle responded, a little uneasy but he was attempting to hide it. "So what is it?"
"I…" Butters paused, closing his eyes and taking a shuddering, greedy amount of breath. When he opened them again, Kyle was still waiting. "I, I know what happened to him. To Eric."
Kyle didn't move, Butters' storm cloud that he had been probably carrying around for years had burst. Not a heavy downpour, but an insidious, sprinkling shower of paralysis. Crawling over Kyle's skin, seeping into his pores.
"Wh-what?" Kyle whispered, his weighted mind was sprinting as best as it could, but he didn't understand. "What are you talking about? What do you mean?"
"Um, I, I know it was a long time ago," Butters began to explain, unnerved by Kyle's reaction. "But do you remember what Eric was trying to do before he disappeared?"
Kyle glanced away, wracking his brain, but how was he supposed to search his memory clearly when one, giant roadblock confession was in the way?
"Yeah, a little… Wasn't he waiting for a game to come out or something?" Kyle answered, exhausted already. He could feel his hands shaking, himself faltering. "Butters, I don't know. I can't-"
"That's right! That's right a game was coming out, a game console was coming out, actually. The Nintendo Wii, remember?" Butters interrupted regardless, forcibly injecting brightness into the conversation. Kyle stared at him resentfully and Butters dropped it. "And he couldn't wait the few weeks, so- so he came to me and asked me to do him a favour."
The painful lethargy had started to consume Butters too as he jogged his memory, recalled that fateful day. But Kyle could feel no sympathy, all he wanted to know was what happened to Cartman.
"I should have said no," Butters despaired, unable to look at Kyle as he wrapped his arms around his chest. "I didn't think, I didn't understand what would – if I had known I would never have, Kyle-"
"Butters, calm down," Kyle instructed irritably, Butters looked at him then and nodded. "I can't understand you and I can't… I can't think right now. What are you trying to tell me?"
Butters took a few more supposedly relaxing breaths, but it was too late. The truth was nearing and both boys were struggling under the weight of it all. "Eric asked me to help him…" Butters stopped, exhaling before nearly spitting the words out regretfully. "Freeze himself, so he didn't have to wait for the Wii to come out. And I did. I did it, I helped him..."
Suddenly, terribly, it all clicked for Kyle. When everything else was slowly crumbling.
"I wish I hadn't, Kyle," Butters implored, stepping forward while Kyle didn't even flinch. "You have to believe me, I regret it so much-"
"Then what the fuck happened to him?!" Kyle demanded, squaring up to Butters and glowering down at him.
"Kyle, please, I'm so sorry!" Butters stepped back, shoulders hunched, and terrified eyes were pleading. "I wish I had never done it! I thought – he told me – and I believed him – there was a, uh, an avalanche-"
"Where?!" Kyle yelled, uninterested in Butters' babbling, not wanting to elaborate on his fragmented explanation because he couldn't trust his imagination. "Where did you leave him?!"
"Kenosha!" Butters whimpered, shrivelling under Kyle's accusatory stance, wounded but powerful. "Kenosha Pass. And I looked! Kyle, I looked for him but everything had changed, it was all different and the snow was so deep and I didn't think he would get hurt if I left him up there! I just did what he told me!"
Kyle's nostrils flared, his lips were pursed and stinging, along with his eyes and his nose and his teeth as they gritted angrily, holding back tears. He would not sob weakly, he would not break down. He would get the truth out of the boy who had taken so much away from him. Justice, hell, fucking vengeance if need be. Kyle didn't care. Couldn't care, couldn't allow himself to feel anything else because whatever was holding him together would surely snap under the force of stronger, destructive emotions.
"Please, Kyle," Butters' lip was trembling, sweating from his interrogation and also his remorse. "Please understand, I've been feeling so guilty for so long and-"
Kyle couldn't take it anymore, these restraints were too tight and debilitating and he needed to act. Growling, he grabbed Butters by his shirt, throwing him against the locker and pinning him there, not caring when the boy shouted in fright.
"Understand?!" Kyle roared in Butters' face.
"I'm sorry, Kyle-"
"Why didn't you tell anybody?!" Kyle shouted, going through the angry motions. Surges of adrenaline had turned Butters into a rag doll, making him easy to shake. "They could have found him!"
"I-"
"You killed your friend!" Kyle cried, his knuckles strained bone-white as he gripped Butters tighter. Wanting to crush him, so he knew how it felt. "You realise that, don't you?"
Butters was sobbing now, shaking his head as he blubbered. "No, no, I didn't. I didn't mean to!"
"That's fucking irrelevant now!" Kyle yelled. "Your apologies don't matter! They're too fucking late! Nothing fucking matters because…" Kyle couldn't say the words, and in his moment of silence, free of rash decisions and anger, he loosened his grip on Butters. Instead he collapsed into the boy, still holding him, but his grip was shaky. "You killed my friend…" Kyle said as he began to sob.
"Kyle," Butters breathlessly got out, chest still heaving. "I didn't mean to-"
"Shut the fuck up!" Kyle cried as he threw Butters down. "Six years of waiting for him and for what?!" Kyle bared down on Butters as he scrambled on the floor, staring up at Kyle and trembling. "I've wasted my time being so pathetic and hopeful, hoping he'd turn up! That's he's fine! But now I know that he's never coming back!"
The words returned to Kyle like a kick in his gut, he clutched his stomach and withered.
"He's never coming back," Kyle whispered, as fresh tears ran over the still drying trails on his cheeks. "God fucking damn it!" He cried, and it hurt.
Kyle looked at the lockers, the closed classrooms, the restrooms, anywhere and anything except Butters. Until he turned to him, seething.
"Why did you feel the need to tell me this?!"
"Because I thought you'd understand!" Butters cried, getting to his feet although Kyle was sure he would crumple. "Please, Kyle…"
"No!" Kyle yelled, backing away from him before he even had a chance to come close. "Don't, Butters! Just… Just stay away from me, okay? I can't even fucking look at you right now!"
Kyle brushed past him swiftly, still holding himself together, literally and figuratively as he made his way back to the gym. How could he go in there like this? How could he let Thomas see him like this?
Everything felt irreversibly different. What was the fucking point anymore?
"Wait!" Butters begged, his quick footsteps following Kyle.
"Don't follow me, Butters," Kyle croaked, defeated. He had given up. Six years and fucking nothing to show for it.
Forget success, forget the joys of progress. It was all obliterated. Kyle squeezed his eyes shut, but they burned with thick tears.
"Kyle, please-"
"Stay away from me, you little fucking prick!" Kyle seethed, jabbing a finger in Butters' direction. "Don't talk to me, don't even fucking look at me, okay?! I don't want anything more to do with you!"
Butters slumped, fair brows raised. "But… But Kenny…"
"I don't care!" Kyle shouted, turning on his heel and storming away.
"Kyle, wait!" Butters made one last attempt, and despite the fucking awful circumstance, Kyle turned around reluctantly, fixing Butters a cold stare.
"I… I thought we were friends," Butters whimpered.
Kyle's battered heart creaked, he felt brittle and numb and…
Unforgiving.
"Not anymore, Butters," Kyle said, shaking his head. "I can't forgive you for this."
Butters slapped a hand over his mouth, eyes glistening. Kyle frowned, all he could manage, and went back inside the gym.
Inoffensive love songs had made way for thumping basslines and the room seemed to be swarming with strangers. Disorientated and shattered, Kyle quickly found it unbearable.
"Hey!" Kyle heard Thomas' voice over the music. He looked up and there was his smiling boyfriend, Kyle offered a weak smile in return.
"There you are!" Thomas grinned as he approached him.
"Oh, hi," Kyle replied, dabbing at his eyes discreetly and hastily mending himself. Superficial, but it had to do.
"Where've you been?" Thomas asked, question laced with concern. He glanced at the gym doors.
Kyle waved it off. "Just talking to somebody," he quickly replied. "Can we get out of here?"
"What?"
"I want to leave," Kyle said, the façade was melting and Thomas' worried gaze was unbearable heat.
"I want to leave with you," Kyle continued, clutching Thomas. Because Kyle may have been a good person, but he was selfish too and he needed his crutch. His temporary pillar. "Please let's just get out of here-"
"Alright," Thomas cut in, wrapping his arm around Kyle's waist and guiding him towards the doors. "Where do you wanna go?"
"Anywhere I can get drunk," Kyle replied.
A/N: Dare I ask for thoughts?