"Me and my friend saw a platypus/Me and my friend wrote a comic book/And guess how long it took"

–Flobots–Handlebars

…

"A…blood disease?" Stan exchanged the same confused look with Kenny. How could a blood disease do what it did to Kyle?

"Clyde," Kenny leaned forward against the desk, braced by one hand, "that doesn't make any sense. A blood disease wouldn't–" He stopped and looked at the computer as an alarm sounded off from it. "What?"

At the noise, Clyde furiously hit keys until another analysis popped up on the screen. His eyes went wide and then traveled over to where Kyle was still sleeping. How the hell did that happen?

"Clyde?"

"It's not a blood disease…" His eyes met Stan's. "He was injected with some micro-bot that causes the metal alloy that is his bones to temporarily reject him after pro-longed usage." He turned his attention back to the screen. "Every time Kyle uses the kite in his back, it'll backfire either right after, or shortly after."

"But why in the middle of the night then?" Stan demanded.

Clyde shrugged. "I can't say. Maybe whoever injected him activated them to be sure they work, but that's just a theory."

"Who…?"

"Cartman," Kenny said simply. When asked why he thought that, the blonde continued, "He had Damien kidnap Kyle, he could've easily pulled him aside and injected him with the micro-bots without him noticing or caring because of that damn spell Damien had him under. Butters would've been able to make them as Professor Chaos, so how farfetched is it that this is once again Cartman's fault…?"

Clyde and Stan exchanged the same knowing look. Kenny was right, it could've easily been Cartman's doing, but for what purpose? What could the fat ass possibly gain from injecting Kyle with something like this?

Then it hit Stan. "What couldn't he gain?" He murmured to himself.

"What?" Clyde and Kenny looked over at the noirette.

He looked back at his friends. "Something like this, it could kill Kyle if we're not careful about it, right?"

Clyde nodded. "Yeah."

"If this were to occur during a fight with him, then he could gain the upper hand," Stan didn't notice Kenny's attention turning to the waking redhead, "since Kyle would be useless."

"Stan," Kenny said in a warning tone, "hold on."

"Not only useless, we could lose him. Kyle could bleed out in the middle of a fight."

"Stan, wait."

"And who knows if we'll be able to react as quickly if this happens in town? Kyle could die."

"Stan!"

"What?" Kyle sat up on the hospital bed and stared in horror at his boyfriend and two friends. Stan turned to look at the redhead. Oh crap. "I could die? What the fuck is going on?"

"Kyle…it's nothing," Stan said hesitantly, "nothing you should worry about."

"You said I could die! What part of that shouldn't I be worried about?" He tried to stand, but fell back down to the edge of the hospital bed when pain shot through his back. Damn! He gripped onto his lower back with a low groan. When everyone gathered around him, he glared up at them and demanded, "What the hell is going on?"

Clyde, Stan, and Kenny looked between each other. Who should tell him? He'd already heard the part about him maybe dying, so it was only a matter of who should tell him why and how he could die. Kyle's gaze was obviously on Stan, he wanted to hear it from the person he loved and trusted most, but the noirette wasn't saying anything. He really didn't want to be the one to tell him.

Instead, Kenny spoke up: "We think that when you were in Damien's custody," (Custody? Why'd I pick that word? He shook it off.), "we think–no, we know that Cartman injected you with micro-bots designed and created by Butters."

Kyle raised an eyebrow at the blonde's statement. "Butters? Butters couldn't build sophisticated micro-bots. You know that."

"Well, not Butters, per se, but Professor Chaos. You saw what he did to Cartman's basement. Imagine what else he could do."

He sighed and scratched his cheek. He supposed it was possible. After what he saw in the basement of the Cartman residence, he was sure there probably wasn't much Butters couldn't do anymore technological wise, but there was one thing bothering he about that theory. "Why would Butters make something to hurt one of us? He doesn't hate us; Cartman does, so surely Butters wouldn't listen to him if he was told to make something like what you're suggesting."

"Well," Clyde sighed, "I didn't want to say this, but I honestly don't think Butters is anywhere near our side anymore."

Kenny glared daggers at the brunette. He didn't want to believe that the teen he still loved really chose Cartman's side over theirs for any reason unless he'd been threatened.

Kyle sighed as well; he'd seen his friend glaring at Clyde. "I've been thinking the same thing."

Stan nodded. "Me too."

"No!" Kenny yelled. "Butters wouldn't abandon us like that! How dare you–"

"Kenny," Kyle said quickly, "stop." He gave the blonde a sympathetic look. "The more you deny it, the more you're going to hurt when you realize it's the truth. If Butters was even near our side, he would've released me from being held prisoner at the cabin, and he wouldn't be helping Cartman capture people from the high school, the town, and the surrounding areas to help the fat ass build an army."

"No…he's not…"

"You know it's true Kenny." He reached out and grabbed onto Kenny's hand gently. "I'm sorry dude."

No…no…no! The blonde tore his hand away from Kyle's. "No! Butters isn't a bad person! I know it!" He shoved past Clyde and stormed out of the infirmary. He slammed the infirmary door shut and continued until he reached his room, slamming that door shut as well.

He wanted to lie down, or at least sit down and vent to the ceiling, but he was too restless, so he just stomped around his room yelling at the dark. Butters wasn't a bad person, he wasn't on Cartman's side willingly! He couldn't be! Butters wouldn't betray him and everyone else like the others were suggesting, he wouldn't!

Butters…you wouldn't, you haven't…right? Kenny stopped in front of the window and looked up at the clear night sky, able to see the shining stars for the first time in a while. You're looking up at the same night sky right now…I know it…you're not bad, you haven't left us. So, I just need to know why you're with him then.

"Kenny?" Kyle said softly as he slowly limped through the door. "You okay?"

"Kyle!" Kenny rushed over to his friend and grabbed onto his arm. "You shouldn't be walking around yet. Come here," he guided the redhead over to his bed, "lay down."

"I'm fine. Don't worry about me." Regardless of what he said, he was gasping for each breath. The pain from his back was nearly unbearable when he walked, but he was trying his best to ignore it. It wasn't working very well.

"Bullshit." Kenny gently pushed Kyle down to sit on the bed and then closed his bedroom door. "What're you doing here? Isn't Stan worried?" Lately Stan would have even thought about allowing Kyle alone in the same room with Kenny, and with what happened earlier, Stan wouldn't have even allowed them to be near each out without some vast amount of worry.

Kyle linked his hands in his lap and looked down at them. "We got into a fight."

"Over what?" Kenny sat down next to the redhead.

"You."

He looked at his friend. A fight over him? What? "Me? Why?"

"Stan thinks you're going to betray us and join Cartman's side to be with Butters."

"I wouldn't!"

"I know. That's what I said, Clyde's with me. But he seemed to know why Stan thinks that." Kyle glanced over at the blonde. "Do you know?"

"No, I…" Kenny hesitated as he remembered conversation he had with Stan in the kitchen that led to the blowjob on the bar; that was probably why the noirette didn't trust him at the moment. Still, Kenny said, "…I don't."

"Why'd you hesitate?"

"Kyle, there are things that you're probably better off not knowing."

"Kenny–"

"Please, trust me on this. You don't want to know."

Instead of trying to fight for an answer like he so wanted to, Kyle sighed and fell back onto his back on the bed. "Whatever."

Kenny chuckled and looked back at his friend. "Sleeping in here tonight?"

"If you don't mind."

"Of course not. But," he lifted Kyle up a bit and moved him so that he was against his chest as he lay down, "at least lay down right on the bed. It'll be more comfortable for both of us," he chuckled.

"You're right," Kyle muttered as his eyes slipped closed. He couldn't believe he was still tired.

Kenny smiled and rested one arm gently around Kyle's waist. "I'm always right," he joked. "Goodnight Kyle."

"Night Ken…"

…A Month Later – 1800 hours – Two miles from the Colorado Branch…

Kenny sighed and adjusted the paper bag full of groceries in his arm. Damn groceries! At least they didn't need that many at the base this week, he just wished that someone had gone with him. Grocery shopping was so boring!

Ever since Kyle infirmity had been discovered a month ago and Kyle and Stan had their fight, things had been strained between the three friends. Stan seemed to try to avoid Kenny at all costs unless on the battlefield - which has only happened once, with one of Cartman's anonymous soldiers, he was dispatched quickly - and Kyle seemed to cling to him for support every time he and Stan fought. It wasn't all bad, especially not for Kenny, who has gotten laid quite a few times thanks to the fights. But he still couldn't stand how much of an ass Stan was being to both Kyle and to him; he was planning on demanding an answer as soon as he got back to the base.

He turned down an alley for a shortcut back to the base and picked up his pace a bit. "Almost back," he muttered, "thank God…"

As he past a certain area of the alley, a small area of brick opened its bright blue eyes and stepped out from the wall. The form immediately changed, taking the form of a slender fifteen-year-old girl with long brown hair in black jeans, a tight black t-shirt, and black combat boots. Her hands were clad in red fingerless gloves and a matching mask covered the bottom half of her face. The girl pointed a dagger she drew from a holster on her lower back at the back of Kenny's neck, causing him to freeze.

"Come with me," she said coldly. "The Coon requests an audience with you."

"You're going back empty handed," Mysterion said just as coldly as the girl. He dropped the bag of groceries to the concrete and jumped into the air and over to the girl's back. He kicked where the dagger holster was against her lower, back sending her flying forward. "Or shall you come back with me? We could use a captive to help our side."

The girl glared back at Mysterion. "That won't happen." Her form suddenly blended into the space around her. "Try to find me…!"

He looked around him, his eyes scanning the alley for any and all abnormalities or fluctuations in the scene around him. Just as he noticed one, a fist connected with the side of his face and sent him into the side of the alley. "Fuck," he groaned as he held onto the back of his throbbing head.

The girl came back into sight as she grabbed onto Mysterion's parka and held him against the alley wall with a silver handgun pointing at the blonde's throat. "I think you'll come with me."

"No he's not," Tool Shed said evenly as he pressed the end of a nail gun against the back of her head.

"What's stopping me from shooting him still?"

"He's immortal, you're not. If I drive a few of these nails into your skull, you won't recover. Shoot him in the throat and he'll get back up."

The girl ground her teeth together and then slowly dropped the hand gun. "Fine," she raised her hands into the air, "my hands are empty now."

Mysterion reached for the pistol and the shot gun still in their holsters on the girl's waist. "She's unarmed Tool Shed."

"Good." Tool Shed grabbed onto the girl's arm and jerked her so she'd be walking in the direction of the base. "Go."

With a slight growl, the girl reluctantly walked forward with Mysterion and Tool Shed directly behind her. As they walked, Mysterion fluidly bent down and picked up the dropped grocery bag. It was a good thing he hadn't bought anything breakable, jarred food or eggs and such.

"God Mysterion," Tool Shed said jokingly, "you got your ass handed to you by a little girl, that's gotta be embarrassing."

"Hey!" The girl yelled back at them. "I'm not a little girl!"

"Shut up! Keep walking!"

Mysterion sighed and rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Let's just get her back to the base."

…

Nikkie/Lucida Dementa belongs to ComicFangirl7 on deviantART.