Disclaimer: South Park is not mine…

Author's Notes: sorry about the delay, I've been down with the flu. I feel better now, but I'm weak as hell… I actually planned to write this chapter when I feel like my hands can move around long enough without me beginning to pant lightly, but then I saw in the news that they talked about the rising of anti-Semitism, and I was like: okay, time for some writing!!!!!!

So… yeah…

Anyway, thanks for the reviews!!!!!!!!!!!!

And sorry for spelling and grammar, you know the drill…


Four Days

Sunday Morning: Mutual Feelings

The drive had been quite awkward. Cartman kept on cursing under his breath and saying that once they find Kyle, he'd make sure his Jewish blood would decorate the hood of his car, and the glares of Kenny and himself didn't help to calm his nerves. A few minutes later, though, he remembered that blood was hard to get rid of and gave up on the idea, much to their relief. With Cartman, one could never know when to be careful.

They kept the windows open, since they asked every second person out in the street if they'd seen Kyle. Some said they had, some said they hadn't, but eventually they found him, lying face-down in the snow. It's been a struggle, mostly on Cartman and Kenny's side. They fought to keep him down, and Kyle fought back. Stan stood a few inches away, watching it all, until Cartman and Kenny convinced him to help, and together they put him in Cartman's car and drove away. Kyle fainted quickly afterwards.

When they arrived to Stan's house, Kenny and Cartman helped him to take Kyle upstairs to his room.

"Well," Kenny said once Kyle was tucked well under the covers. "Guess it's time for us to take a leave."

Cartman glared at him. "What?" he asked angrily.

Kenny glared back. "You heard me. We've been around enough, let's leave them alone…"

Before Cartman could protest again, Stan spoke: "You trust me with him?" he asked quietly, unsure himself.

Kenny nodded innocently. "Of course. You just have to be careful… oh, and give him the medicine! It's probably a flu, he should get better soon…"

Stan nodded and then smiled, grabbing Kenny's shoulder gently. "Thanks, dude," he said. "You've been great help… even Cartman."

"No problem, dude. You needed it. Good luck!" Then Kenny turned away and left, dragging a grunting and grumbling Cartman after him.

After they were out of the door Stan looked around, feeling quite lonely all of the sudden. He got ready a glass of water and two pills for Kyle to take when he woke up, and then went downstairs to boil the soup he made the other day. Soup is one of the best medicines for a flu. Well, that and tea, maybe he should make some of that, too.

As he fiddled with the buttons on the stove, he wondered if when Kyle would wake up he'd be delirious again, and then… he shuddered. It took him a long time to convince Kyle that all was alright.

Maybe he should have taken him home. If he did that on Thursday it would have been great. In his home he would have felt secure, and his parents could probably care for him better than what Stan could. The proof for his lousy treatment lay upstairs, broken, dirty, and untrusting.

It made him loathe himself, really. He was trying to make his best friend – no… his love – to feel better, and all he managed to do was to get him to feel worse. Some best friend he was…

When the soup boiled, Stan covered the pot with the lid and went upstairs to watch the sleeping boy and make sure he wouldn't attempt to run away again.


When he woke up he expected to find himself wounded and naked in an unknown room, surrounded by his haters, who would hold bats and chains and start to beat him up as soon as he opened his eyes. When he felt nothing, he frowned, and opened his eyes wider.

He was in Stan's room, and once he checked it, he was still clad in his pajama as well. It was dark outside, and the small lamp on the desk provided the only light. One glance at the clock told him it was six in the morning, and the sun wasn't out yet. Stan was snoring quietly on a chair next to the wall, making Kyle smile slightly. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been happy, so much had happened in the course of a few days...

He sat up slowly, fighting against the dizziness. He spotted the pills and water on the drawer and took them. He felt better right away, but assumed it was only in his mind. Those pills should take about an hour to work and make him sweat.

He wanted to leave. He fled from Stan's house once, and he'd do it again. He could not let him fall in love with him.

He threw the covers over him and put his feet quietly on the wooden floor and was about to take his second leave when Stan spoke up: "Going somewhere?"

Kyle gulped and lifted his gaze to look at his friend, who was smirking. "I was just-"

"Running away again?" Stan finished for him, and the smirk turned into a frown. Kyle looked away and nodded. "Why are you doing that?" Stan asked. "Why are you running away?"

Instead of replying, Kyle asked a question of his own: "why do you love me?"

Stan was a bit taken aback. "What?"

"You heard me!" Kyle said, looking at Stan again, this time angrily. "Why do you love me? Why do you kiss me? Why did you give me a blowjob?!"

Stan blushed. "That's a stupid question…" he muttered.

"I don't care, answer it!"

Stan glared. "Fine," he hissed. "You're smart, you're kind, you're beautiful, you're wonderful, you're caring, you're… you're my best friend in the whole wide world…"

"But I'm Jewish," he said and looked down shamefully.

"What does that has to do with anything? "Stan asked and rose from his chair, crouching in front of his bed and Kyle. "Is that about Cartman?" he asked.

Kyle shook his head furiously. "No! It's about… them…" Stan opened his mouth to say something, but Kyle continued before he got the chance. "I'm marked, Stan! However could you want me like this…" and tears sprang to his eyes.

"I don't care!" Stan screamed, gripping Kyle's shoulders firmly. "I don't give a fuck, Kyle! I love just the way you are, with marks or without them! I don't care!" when silence answered, he continued: "is that why you ran away? You thought I would reject you?" Kyle nodded sadly. Stan laughed. "That's ridiculous! I knew about those even before you did and I still love you! How could you even think that I don't?!" Kyle didn't reply. "Does that mean… you love me, too?" Kyle looked at his friend, amazed, and Stan smiled again, moving his hand to caress his cheek. "Then why did you…? You thought we were them?" Kyle nodded. "You thought we'd beat you up?" again, a nod. "Oh God, Kyle…" Stan wrapped his arms around his friend and held him. "I never meant to…"

"It's okay," Kyle said and wiped his eyes. "I know…"

"Kyle?" Stan asked after he felt the red head shift in his embrace and pulled away, looking at him worriedly. "You okay? Did I do something wrong again?"

Kyle shook his head slowly, smiling. "No," he answered, and in a quick movement he captured Stan's lips between his.

Not long after that, he felt the happiest in a long, long time…


To Be Continued…


Author's Note: I'm not pleased with it, but I didn't see it any other way, so…

Be prepared for a twist!!!!! Weekend's over the next chapter and Kyle returns home…