A/N: hey, whats up you gahs! Not much to say atm, so carry on my wayward son! (Don't ask, but you supernatural fans will get me)

Chapter 11 - - - KYLE POV - - -

I laid in my bed wide awake for hours, staring up at the ceiling. Why sleep was always so fucking hard to get was beyond me. My therapist said I have insomnia, and she gave me some pills to help with it. Fuck the pills, I'm on enough now as it is. I know that I would be able to get a nice, maybe even dreamless sleep if I took them, but I didn't want to take the risk. Whenever I did manage to drift off for a couple of hours, Stan would be waiting for me. Some times he would be nice to me. He would ask me if I'm okay, and he would promise that I would get through this. That was the real Stan, the one I was super best friends with. The other Stan was the one that haunted me even in my conscience hours. He would threaten me, tell me I'm worthless and try driving me past the point of no return. That was the Stan I was terrified of.

It was already five in the morning, and I was considering getting ready for school. My Mom said that I don't have to go back for another week if I didn't want to, but my therapist said otherwise. I didn't usually listen to the crap that came out of her mouth, but she was right. I did have to get my life back on track. I needed distractions, anything to stop my mind from wandering to anything that would bring back those awful memories, or remind me of Eric and Bebe.

I was about to switch on my light when I heard a small beeping sound. My phone. I hesitantly dived onto my bed and snatched it from my desk which was right beside it. My heart faltered for a moment when I saw a text pop up on my screen.

Fatass - Don't get yourself killed.

I blinked.

What was that supposed to mean? No... actually, I know exactly what he's trying to say. It's pretty God dammed fucking obvious. Memories from last night flood into my head and I grit my teeth, squeezing my eyes shut against them. I was sick of having to hide from every thing, having to try not think about the last month because I was a fucking wimp. It's not like remembering something is the same as it happening again. That would be fucking horrible. I felt sorry for the people with photographic memory. Especially if it was my life they were living.

Pursing my lips, I got back up and flipped my bedroom light on. It was brighter than I expected it to be, and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust. Everything had seemed dark lately, like there was no light in my life. I guess that's true. I took my time getting dressed, careful not to knock my bad arm. It was still bandaged up, and the cast wasn't going to come off for another three weeks. Even then, it still wouldn't be working properly and it would take at least another month to get it feeling back to normal. I was looking forward to it slightly, but the thought didn't make me as happy as it should have done.

I had taken a quick shower after I had gotten in, and my hair had dried into a frizzy, curly mess. I decided to at least attempt to get it back half decent, and spent the next half hour in the bathroom. Eventually, I gave up. I would just wear my ushanka anyway, that's why I had gotten it in the first place wasn't it? So I could hide the hair on my head I was so ashamed of. Lots of people have told me it looks good now that I have had it cut, but to me, it's a hideous thing. I hate it, but Stan loved it.

He used to always play with my hair all of the time, and I called him girly for it. It felt good when he ran his fingers through it, when he twirled the ends around his finger. I may have gotten annoyed when he used to do it, but now I would give anything just to have that feeling again. That's jus another one of the millions of thing I missed about him. The list was endless.

With a reluctant sigh, I splashed some cold water on my face. I shivered at the contact, but it was refreshing and felt good on my dry skin. I looked terrible. I decided not to even attempt trying to hide the yellowing bruises on my face. I would probably just end up embarrassing myself after using Mom's concealer. That didn't go down so well last time.

School took the absolute piss.

Everyone was constantly trying to give me hugs and shit like that, it was fucking annoying. Sure, I'm in mourning for my best friend, but that doesn't mean everyone in the whole school has to try and comfort me. I just wanted to be left alone, why couldn't they get that? It was mainly bad because everyone was so nice to me. I didn't like it. Everytime they mentioned Stan, I got all fucking emotional and had to do my best to fight back the tears. I ended up bunking off my third lesson just so I could try and get all of the crying out of me in the toilets. Well, that plan went out the window when Kenny and Butters cames in.

I hadn't spoken properly to Kenny since last week, and I was dying to see him. I felt as if he was one of the only people I could fully trust. He was like a brother to me. I was always closer to Stan than him, but he had always been there for me, no matter what. He would never make me talk about things that I didn't want to and he would make me laugh. He was a really good friend.

When I heard the door swing open, my whole body stiffened and I didn't dare breathe. I was sitting on the toilet (with the lid down), my knees drawn up to my chest. I had locked the door, just in case something like this did happen. I'll admit I was slightly paranoid that Bebe had sent someone after myself. I wouldn't be surprised if Eric was one of her 'boys'. I don't know how she expects me to come up with... well fuck. I don't even know how much fucking money she wants. And, I still have no fucking idea why she even thinks I have the stupid money in the first fucking place. Why would she even think that? Did she say that she saw me with it? I think she did... but why would she say that? It's impossible...

"Hey, K-Kenny," I heard Butters' voice and I was ripped out of my thoughts as I snapped my attention to the small blonde's voice.

"What...?" Kenny grumbled. He sounded unhappy and majorly pissed off. I had no doubt it had something to do with Eric. Come to think off it, I still haven't seen the brunette today.

"I-If you were going to die... How would y-you want it to happen?"

There was a moment of silence before the dirty blonde let out a sigh.

"I'd want to be with you, after we had lived long, happy lives together," his reply to Butters' question was something I didn't expect. It was sweet, and small smile tugged at my lips. That sounded like a nice way to go. I knew it wouldn't be like that for me though. I had a gut feeling I didn't have much longer left.

"Gee, Kenny. Y'know... I-I, well there is something I realized last night,"

"How devilishly sexy I am?" Kenny said in a flat tone. It sounded as if he tried to be flirtatious. Frankly, it didn't work. He sounded tired, fed up. He had something on his mind.

"No! No.. I mean, y-yes you are! Bu-but I... well, I already knew that, it was s-something else," I could almost see Butters face as it lit up a scarlet red as he blushed.

"Okay, what is it?"

"I... well gee, this is harder than I thought it would be..."

"Don't worry, just say it. You can trust me," Kenny's voice was comforting and reassuring toward his boyfriend.

"I love you, Kenny,"

I suddenly felt extremely awkward sat in a bathroom stall, earwigging on my friends admitting that they love each other. I squirmed slightly uncomfortably. I needed an escape. Was there any way I could get out of here without being seen? I felt horrible intruding on such a private moment. I gulped, doing my best to be quiet. Gulping silently when trying to be hidden is extremely hard. I suddenly needed to go to the toilet too. Fuck's sake. This always happens when I'm hiding from someone. I always need the God dammed fucking toilet. Irony of it being I was sat on one and I couldn't even use it.

"B-Butters..." Kenny stammered. He actually sounded kind of nervous for once. That was a change. I didn't want to hear this. It felt incredibly wrong. I chewed my bottom lip, doing my best to block out what I was hearing. That was the least I could do wasn't it? I briefly considered crawling underneath the stall and into the next one, then keep going and dart out of the door unnoticed. I quickly shook my head. Like that would work...

"I-I know you might not love me back... b-but I wanted you to know, cos it's true.. y'know?"

"Come here," Kenny grunted. I heard some shuffling and then the sound of clothes being ruffled. Oh fuck, they were making out, weren't they?

"Leopold Butters Stotch," Kenny murmured his full name as I heard them pull away, I think. It was hard to tell exactly what was going on. "I love you too," my heart stopped. Oh fuck, I did not need to hear that. More make out noises.

"I'm really worried," Butters mumbled.

"About?"

"Kyle,"

I held my breath. I didn't expect to hear my name in this conversation.

"I know, dude. I know. I'm worried about him too, we all are," Kenny sounded upset.

"I-It's just I think, well I'm a little scared. He's been through so much, and you have too... With Stan being... y'know..."

I felt tears beading on my eyelashes. More fucking crying. I hated all this stupid hormonal emotional shit. It was just too much for me.

"He'll be okay," Kenny sounded unsure of himself.

"But what about y-you? Stan, he was your best f-friend,"

"There's nothing we can do Butters. Just leave it,"

"S-Sorry..."

I heard some more shuffling, then a tap being turned on. The sound of running water seemed weird.

"Let's go. I need to go find Kyle," The dirty blonde muttered quietly. I felt my whole body tense up again at the sound of my own name. Should I come out? No... to awkward. I couldn't be bothered with all the drama it could cause. I heard the door shut, and let out a relieved, but shaky breath, letting my eyes fall closed. I rolled my head back and stayed like that for a few moments before getting up.

That little encounter seemed to be stained into my mind. I couldn't stop thinking about it, and I didn't know why. Not like I was complaining, I was perfectly happy thinking about Kenny and Butters relationship rather than thinking about certain other past events.

Maybe it was the fact Kenny had found love that made me shocked afterwards. He'd always been a bit of a stud, but now that he's with Butters... I can't deny that I find it absolutely adorable, because it is. Despite how awkward that felt.

The lunch bell rang and I headed down to the cafeteria. Like Kenny had mentioned, he wanted to talk to me. But about what? I couldn't fathom why. I ended up just thinking it was either about him and Butters, or he just wanted to see if I was okay. Everybody wanted to see if I was okay. I was constantly being checked up on by random people. Some of them I have no idea who the fuck they are, yet they act as if we're best friends. It's creepy, and I was starting to consider that Bebe wasn't the only person who had eyes on me at all times.

My eyes landed on our usual table which was full of people I didn't recognize. Amongst them, I managed to spot Kenny, Butters and Eric trying to eat their lunch. They seemed to be being pestered by everyone around them and looked irritated. Then again, I wasn't Stan's only friend. People were also being pretty sympathetic toward the others too.

I pushed past the hoard of people carefully and managed to locate a seat in between Kenny and Eric. Kenny's bag was propped on top, saving the place for me, and to not be taken by some random person trying to get gossip from them. I crashed down in the middle just after Kenny managed to swipe his bag out before I landed beside them.

"What the fuck is going on?" I asked, batting away someone's hand that was trying to pat my back.

"No fucking clue, but it's pissing me off," Kenny grunted. Usually he would have come up with some sexual comment about how they all wanted him, but he only frowned and stared at the small amount of lunch before him.

"AY!" Eric piped up beside me, glaring at the crowd around us. "Would you fuck off before I fucking rip your balls off!" This comment seemed a little stupid seeing as most of them were female. It worked though. Quickly, they all began to disperse. I forgot about the amount of power Eric had over most people. Including me.

"Sup fag?" Eric turned to face me, his eyebrow cocked up. I let out a huff and looked at Kenny.

"Fuck off Eric," I mumbled and pulled my bag up onto my lap.

"Chill Kahl. I'm just asking if you're okay,"

I didn't reply and pulled out my lunch. I gave Kenny a wry smile then passed it to him. I threw my bag back under the table.

"I'm not hungry," I mumbled.

"K-Kyle! You should e-eat! It's not good to skip m-meals!" Butters pouted childishly at me.

"Yeah, Kahl. Eat your fucking dinner," Eric commented.

"You have it, I'm okay," Kenny passed it back to me. I frowned. It wasn't often he wouldn't accept food.

"No, I feel sick," I pushed my lunch box back in his direction. It was true. I wasn't feeling too good. Suddenly, Eric thrusted his arm out and snatched it away from in front of me. I glanced up at him in confusion. Kenny growled.

"Cartman, don't be such a fucking jerk. Give it back," he groaned. Clearly, he couldn't be bothered with Eric being a jackass. I don't think any of us could. The brunette glared at the blonde momentarily before shifting his gaze to me. I gulped.

"Kahl," he said then shoved the lunch into my hands. "Eat your fucking lunch,"

"Why should I? I told you, I'm not fucking hungry," with a huff I smashed the stupid box down on the table. I knew what this was about. And it wasn't the fucking lunch.

"I said eat."

His eyes pierced mine like cold splinters.

"No."

He narrowed his eyes at me. He always does that when I refuse to do something he wants.

"I said eat your fucking lunch," everyone on the table was frowning at us in confusion. Butters looked completely dazed, and Kenny just looked grumpy.

"What if I don't want to?" I raised an eyebrow up at him questionably.

"Now, now fella's..." Butters tried to calm us.

"You know what will happen Kahl. I made that very clear last night, don't you think?" He tilted his head to the side, a tiny smile playing on his lips.

"Cartman, fuck off. What is your problem?" Kenny was really pissed off now. It was strange seeing him so wound up. He's usually so light hearted.

"Shut up Kinny," Eric didn't take his gaze away from mine. It was as if our eyes were stuck staring at each other. There was some kind of electricity, a spark of something intense filling the air between us.

"Fucking asshole..." The blonde muttered under his breath. He turned to face Butters, but I could tell he still had his attention on us.

"Eat,"

"Fuck you,"

"Kahl, if you don't eat your fucking lunch," he smiled. "I'll kill Kinny,"

Kenny snorted.

"No you won't," Oh yes he would.

"You know I will,"

"Go ahead, I don't give a crap," Kenny grunted. He mumbled something else but I couldn't quite tell what it was.

"K-Kenny! I thought you were g-gonna die a differently! Don't let E-Eric do it, I like the other w-way!" Butters exclaimed panicked. I thought back to the conversation thy had in the bathrooms. It felt weird knowing that two of my closest friends were in love. I quickly pushed the thought from my mind.

"I mean it Jew. Eat,"

"Not hungry,"

The argument was already beginning to grow stale. Eric looked a little bored of it, but he's a stubborn asshole. He won't stop until he gets what he wants, even if it's something as simple as making me heat my lunch.

"Do you remember what I said about Ike yesterday?" He asked. I swallowed hard.

"Y-yes,"

"Then you should eat your dinner," I knew he was being serious. And I've already put my brother in enough danger, even if he doesn't know it. If I screw up, he could end up dead.

"Whatever fatass. If I eat will you shut the fuck up?" I spat venomously, giving up. He grinned smugly. God, I wish I could just reach out and rip that smile off his proud face.

"Of course Kahl. I'm just looking out for you. You're just so scrawny, no muscle or fat. You should eat more," he pretended to be nice, but I saw that same unfamiliar emotion flicker across his eyes.

"Just fuck off," I grunted and proceeded to eat my sandwich, despite feeling like I was going to be sick if I ate. How the fuck Eric eats so bloody much is beyond me.

After lunch I had to go see the school counsellor. I was absolutely dreading it. From what I'd heard from Stan, a certain Elementary school teacher had decided to take up the job. I was just glad Mr Mackey wasn't going to be there too.

"Hello Kyle!" Just fucking great. Mr fucking Garrison. He smiled at me beckoning for me to take a seat.

"Hi," I grumbled back with a scowl. I couldn't be assed with this.

"So, your little fag friend was killed and you watched it?"

I blinked.

Well, that was a bit forward.

"Um... yes?" I gritted my teeth. I had buried the memories away, I didn't want to unearth them again. Not now, not yet.

"And you were gay for him?" Okay, now that was uncalled for. He was supposed to be a fucking professional. Wait, I forgot momentarily that this is South Park. There isn't a decent professional in this whole stupid fucking town.

"That's none of your fucking business," I shook my head at him and crossed my arms.

"Now, now Kyle. I know that you're angry, but that language is not tolerated here,"

"Like I give a shit,"

"Kyle!" He stood up. Boobs. He had fucking boobs. Again. Fucking weirdo. "I am here to help you, but you need to let me,"

"Oh yeah, like you've ever fucking helped one God dammed person before. You're fucked up, dude. You tried to kill Terrance and Philip, you made us all run around looking for your penis, you stared a fucking war with a bunch of lesbians-" I had much, much more to say, but he quickly cut me off.

"Kyle, this isn't about me. You are here so we can talk about you, your problems," He sat back down and chewed his bottom lip.

"Well I think you should get yours sorted out first before you even think about mine,"

"Kyle, you were raped. Your best friend was murdered. Your other best friend, Eric, is a total jerk, we need to talk about that. You're traumatized, and you need help,"

"You don't know fuck all, you fucking freak,"

He looked a little offended by what I said. I didn't care. It was true. He leaned back and sighed. I could see the light from the ceiling reflect off his glasses as he stared at me.

"Believe it or not, I do Kyle. Why do you think they hired me if I didn't know how to help people?"

"Because the people who hired you live in South Park, and everyone in South Park is fucking messed up,"

He blinked. Ha. He knew I was right. This town is crazy. I wouldn't be surprised if the gates to hell themselves were underneath it. We carried on arguing for the rest of the hour, and when the bell went off, I was out the door instantly. Thank fuck, I hated that man. He screwed my life up in Elementary. He screwed everyone's lives up.

I had a free period, so I decided to go to the library. I had a shit load of homework to get through and I had to get started. It was pretty much pointless though. I was sick with worry. I couldn't stop thinking about all of the crazy shit going down in my life. I was terrified of it. Today had been hard so far. But compared to what I've been through in the last month, it was okay. I had distractions, I didn't have revisit any memories. Not too many anyway. But the crap with Bebe and Eric. I had no idea what to do. I was Eric's pet, a play thing to him. I don't even get what the fuck is going on with the blonde bitch. She's a cold blooded murderer, and she must pay.

It was then a plan began to form in my head. I didn't know how, or when. But I was going to kill Bebe Stevens.

I got up from my seat and drew in a deep breath. What the fuck was I thinking? Killing someone? No. No, that is something I won't do. At least not yet. I had other problems. Like coming up with a shit load of money. I don't know how I'm supposed to get it. God dammit, I wish I was better friends with Token. He's the richest guy in South Park by miles, I'd easily sort out this whole fucking mess.

But if I don't...

No. I don't want to think about it. I can't. I have to stay positive.

Ha.

Like that was gonna work. I tried to fucking kill myself yesterday.

I decided to go for a walk around the school. I needed fresh air. Well, that's one thing that South Park is good for. Nice, chilly cold fresh mountain air.

The snow had been cleared from the field already thank fuck, so I just strolled around, trying to mull things over in my head. Everything was so fucking confusing. I was around the back of the sports hall when I saw something I hadn't been expecting. She was curled up, leaning against the wall. Tears were streaming down her face, sending her mascara dribbling everywhere. She had a small pen knife clutched in her perfectly manicured hand, and I could see something red trickling down her sleeve. I stared in shock, unsure of what to say or do. She lets out a small sob and clenched her eyes shut, the knife poised in front of her chest, ready to be driven in. Her hand shook, trembling violently as she gulped nervously.

"Wendy...?"

A/N: Hey brilliant, amazing people!

So yep. I don't even know if this is an even slightly interesting cliffhanger, but if it is, and it's annoyed you that you have to wait for the next chapter, I apologize. From my heart.

Okay, thanks you gahs! I love you all, so drop a review in the crotch would ya? Thankies!