Dysfunctional
Chapter 13: Exposition Dump
If one was to see what was going on, they might think that Kyle was resigned to his fate, when in fact he had no idea what was happening.
"Vengeance is mine, sayeth the lord!" Trent shouted to the heavens.
As he was about to swipe the blade across Kyle's throat, he was struck in the side of the head, sending the knife flying away from the Jew. When he hit the floor, it was clear that the back of his head was bleeding heavily.
"Over my dead body," Stan snarled, his fists bunching and his eyes showing unbridled rage.
Trent laughed, "Just like Wendy said."
Stan nostrils flared as she was mentioned. Kenny and Butters followed him into the alley, Butters rushed to Cartman and Kenny rushed to Kyle, leaving Stan to stare down Trent.
"I'll fucking slaughter you and paint the town with your entrails," Stan growled.
Trent rushed at Stan, who caught his fist and threw him back, his anger turning him into an unstoppable force of brute strength. Stan rushed over to Trent and punched once, throwing all his weight and momentum into the strike, the punch hit him right in the nose, shattering it in a shower of blood. Trent was sent sprawling across the alley and Stan followed up with a boot to the temple, knocking him out cold.
"You fuck with him, you fuck with me!"
He immediately dashed over to Kyle, where Kenny was calling the emergency services whilst holding his parka to the back of Kyle's head, the orange slowly becoming red. Stan wrapped his arms around the groaning redhead.
He rode with Kyle in the ambulance, his hand gently gripping the Jew's as the paramedics tried to stop the bleeding. His stomach lurched and his heart leapt into his mouth when Kyle stopped responding to what was going on around him, finally slipping into unconsciousness.
"Wendy broke up with me today," Thirteen-year-old Stan said one day when he was round at Kyle's.
"Why?" Kyle asked, annoyed at this constant cycle of Stan and Wendy breaking up and getting back together, "And why aren't you crying like a bitch like usual?"
"She tried to kiss me and I pussied out," Stan sighed, "I wasn't even going to throw up! It just didn't feel right so I don't really care about breaking up with her."
Kyle laughed, "Queer."
Stan glared at Kyle, "You've never even had a girlfriend! You can't call me a queer!"
"I can, because if a girl tried to kiss me I wouldn't pussy out," Kyle grinned.
"Fuck you."
They sat in silence for a while until Stan spoke up again.
"Have you ever thought about having a relationship with a guy?"
Kyle raised an eyebrow, "And you say you're not a queer?"
"I'm serious dude, I'm kinda curious."
Kyle frowned, "I've never really thought about it to be honest."
"Why don't we experiment then?"
Kyle's jaw dropped, "Dude…"
"Just an experiment," Stan hastily explained, "We don't have to tell anyone. If it doesn't work we can just go back to being Super Best Friends."
"Okay."
Silence again.
"So are we boyfriends now?" Kyle asked hesitantly.
"I guess so."
"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?" Stan asked, now fifteen. It was dark out, getting on ten o'clock.
"Yeah," Kyle sighed, "I want to have a boyfriend to come back to."
"If anything happens, tell me," Stan frowned, his face laced with concern.
"Wish me luck?" Kyle leaned up on his toes to give Stan a peck on the lips.
"Definitely."
Kyle walked up the path and opened the door to his house, he stood for a moment outside, collecting himself before stepping over the threshold. Gerald was sitting on the couch, and he turned his head to see who entered.
"Hello Kyle," Gerald smiled, his smile immediately fell when he saw his son's nervous look, "Is something wrong?"
"No," Kyle let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, "Can you get Mom and Ike down? I need to tell you something."
Gerald nodded and two minutes later the entire Broflovski family was situated in the living room, Kyle standing in front of the TV and the other three on the couch.
"So what did you need to tell us?" Gerald coaxed gently.
"I don't know how you'll react," Kyle said, his eyes fixed on his shoes, "This has been going on for a while, but I didn't know how to tell you."
"Okay," Gerald nodded. The previously apathetic Ike lay his phone down on the arm of the couch, his interest piqued.
Kyle took a deep breath and released it, "I'm gay."
Ike's eyebrows raised and Gerald's concerned expression faded into one of understanding.
Kyle continued, "I'm in a relationship with Stan."
"What, what, WHAT!"
Kyle's eyes shot up to see his mother's eyes fill with tears and her hand cover her mouth.
"How long has this been going on Kyle?" Gerald asked.
"Two years," Kyle sighed, his cheeks going red, "It originally started as an experiment but now we really like each other and…"
Gerald filled in when Kyle trailed off, "It's okay Kyle, it doesn't matter."
Sheila wrapped her arms around Kyle, "It's okay bubbeh, we'll get this sorted."
Kyle pulled out of her grip, "What do you mean 'get it sorted'?"
"Get you out of this phase."
"I was afraid of this," Kyle frowned, "I don't want to 'get this sorted'. I like being with Stan."
"Kyle! How can you say such things? What about your faith?"
"I knew you'd pull that card," Kyle huffed, "I did some research and Jews are trying to integrate homosexuals into their culture."
"Kyle, this isn't right!" Sheila yelled, her patience wearing thin, "You should marry a Jewish girl!"
"I don't want to!" Kyle had clearly inherited his temper from his mother, "Why can't you understand this?"
"Sheila calm down!" Gerald tried to step in, "This is Kyle's choice, not ours!"
"Get out." Sheila growled, ignoring her husband.
"What?" Kyle asked, completely stunned.
"GET OUT!" Sheila screamed, "YOU'RE NO SON OF MINE!"
Kyle's anger returned with a vengeance, "WELL MAYBE I DON'T WANT A BITCH AS MY MOM ANYWAY!"
Kyle's head jerked to the side and a collective gasp rose from Gerald and Ike. Kyle lifted his hand to the side of his face in shock, gingerly touching the burning handprint.
"You lied to me this whole time," Kyle said blandly, his anger dissipating, "Whenever you told me that you'd always be proud of me, even though I'm not a prodigy like Ike, whenever you told me that my happiness always came first and whenever you said that you'd always worry about me because you loved me. It was all a lie."
At this point Ike stood between them as faced his adoptive mother, "Well done," He said sarcastically, "You've just become a disgrace."
Kyle forced himself to walk up to his room as his eyes filled with tears and filled two suitcases with all his possessions, it took him three hours. Gerald walked into his room with Ike, looking dishevelled whilst Ike looked scared.
"Kyle, please rethink this," Gerald pleaded.
Kyle sighed and gave his father a hug, "I'm sorry, but I can't stay with her. This is who I am, I can't change that."
Ike looked up at him, "Where will you go Kyle?"
"I've got money, I might rent a room at a motel. I've got a job so I can keep it up."
Gerald sighed, "As much as I want you to stay, I don't think it's safe for you here."
"I know."
"Stay safe Kyle, please."
"I will Dad."
Kyle gave his father and his brother one last hug each before carrying his cases down the stairs and out the door. When he stepped out into the pouring rain, he was filled with fear and an overwhelming sorrow. Tears streamed down his face and blurred his vision as he made the short walk next door.
Stan had needed to take a piss during the night, so he was the first to hear the pounding on the door. He opened it to find his crying boyfriend on the doorstep with two suitcases, he pulled Kyle into a tight hug as his mother showed up at the top of the stairs.
"What happened Kyle?" Stan whispered into his soaking-wet ushanka.
"I…I told them Stan," Kyle sobbed, clutching Stan's pyjama top, "Dad and Ike accepted us. Mom, however…"
"She didn't," Stan said, pulling Kyle in tighter.
"She disowned me Stan," Kyle said into Stan's chest as Sharon came down the stairs, listening to everything, "I was going to go rent a motel room, but I needed to see you."
"Rent a motel room my ass!" Stan said, "You're staying with me, I don't care what anyone says."
Stan pulled Kyle into a kiss, using his thumbs to wipe away the Jew's tears.
"Stanley, were you going to ask me?" Sharon said as her son pulled away from his boyfriend.
"Yes," Stan answered, "But Kyle's my boyfriend, he has been for two years. I can't just turn him away. Besides, I don't think that being a cashier at Tweek Bros. is going to support a motel room."
Sharon scratched the side of her head, "I was never going to say no. With Shelley at college we can afford to have him stay here."
Kyle's raised his head from Stan's chest, his emerald eyes filled with hope, "Th…Thank you Mrs. Marsh."
"I'm just doing what any good-spirited human being would do. Stanley, he's going to have to go in your room for tonight, your father's in the guest room."
Stan smiled, "He wasn't going to go anywhere else."
Stan had got Kyle a towel from the bathroom and had pulled him into a hug. He'd never seen Kyle like this, helpless, vulnerable.
It honestly scared him.
Kyle just sobbed into Stan's chest and the quarterback just rubbed his back soothingly, he was usually good at consoling people but he had no idea what to say. If he couldn't console his boyfriend he could at least be a shoulder to cry on.
The next weekend was worse for Kyle, if that was even possible. Sheila led her usual Saturday morning protest (sometimes it felt like it was that frequent) and this time, it was obvious what she was protesting against.
Homosexuality.
Stan and Kyle were walking Sparky when they came across two large crowds just across from each other, one crowd held up signs with slogans berating homosexuality whilst the other held up signs supporting homosexuality.
"The primal function of any organism on this planet is to pass on their genetic material and reproduce," Sheila shouted from in front of the town hall, "Anything that is attracted to another of the same organism that cannot give them children because they are the same gender is a genetic failure!"
The 'against' crowd cheered and made sure that Sheila knew their agreement.
Kyle felt his temper bubbling and he pushed through the crowds to the podium where Sheila was and bent the microphone so that he could speak into it.
"Maybe gays are 'genetic failures'," Kyle stated, "But if it's their genetics, how can they help it? If it's their genetics then they shouldn't be shunned, that's like shunning black people or Jewish people, they can't help that and people who shun them get more hate. You can't claim racism is a problem and then oppose gay people because racism and homophobia are fundamentally the same thing, hating someone who is different!"
Kyle got an enormous cheer from the 'for' crowd as he stepped down from the steps and pushed back through the crowd and over to his boyfriend.
"Let's go," Kyle said, "I don't want to see this anymore."
It was one of the rare times Sheila's protests failed.
Kyle's eyes worked their way open to see a white ceiling. The room was dark and he could hear snoring beside him. He turned his throbbing head slowly to the side because it felt heavy and because his shoulder ached, he saw Stan with his arms folded on the bed and his head on top of them, his hand was gently grasping Kyle's and he was drooling in his sleep. Kyle debated waking him up, but decided against it. He turned his head so it was facing the ceiling again and tried to remember what had happened before, there was definitely something about Trent Boyett, he'd run into him with Cartman.
He found himself getting tired, so he relaxed and felt himself drift off.
Stan woke a few hours later was relieved to hear Kyle actually snoring, at the same time he felt bad, he wanted to be awake when Kyle woke up.
Second time lucky then.
Stan slouched in the chair he was occupying and ran a hand over his face, keeping his other interlocked with Kyle's. He sighed heavily and cast his eyes to the ceiling, he was exhausted and he wanted to go to bed. He wouldn't dare leave Kyle though.
He brought his eyes back to the Jew when he heard him stir, his head was wrapped in bandages that bunched up his Jew-fro. Kyle's eyes opened and he slowly sat up, turning his head to look at Stan.
"Thank God," Stan smiled as he pulled Kyle into a hug.
"What happened?" Kyle asked, "Why am I in the hospital?"
"You fought Trent Boyett and ended up smashing your head on the corner of a dumpster."
"Oh," Was all Kyle could say.
"You'll have a headache for a few days and you twisted your shoulder, nothing too serious."
Kyle nodded.
"They said you could go home when you woke up," Stan stood up, "C'mon."
Kyle sluggishly got his feet out from under the covers on the bed. Stan quickly bent down and got Kyle's snow boots and ushanka, he put Kyle's boots on his feet for him and placed his ushanka on his head. Kyle stood and swayed, Stan grabbed his arms and kept him upright.
"Do you want me to get a nurse to help you?" Stan asked gently.
Kyle shook his head and took a shaky step. He walk was more like a stagger and his head swam with every step. Stan followed close behind him, ready to catch him in case he fell. Kenny had come up to the hospital with Stan's car despite the fact he didn't have a licence. The walk from the hospital room to the car should have taken no more than five minutes, but it hurt Kyle's head if he went any faster than a snail's pace. When he eventually got to the passenger seat he was panting heavily. Stan got in the driver's seat and kissed his temple.
"You did great," He smiled.
"Did well," Kyle corrected, a smile on his lips.
Stan drove back to his house in silence, Kenny had also dropped their suitcases off at Stan's when he went to get the car. Stan got out and opened Kyle's door for him, scooping him into his arms and carrying him to bed, stripping them both down to their boxers and spooning him.
"Just rest Kyle," Stan murmured into his boyfriend's Jew-fro, his hand tangled in the red curls having taken the ushanka off, "You've had a tough week."
Kyle pressed himself back into Stan's chest, making a content noise and closing his eyes.
"No one'll hurt you while I'm around."