Author Notes: Thank you for all of your reads and reviews since my last update – I really appreciate it!

Regarding the last chapter, one reviewer brought it to my attention that deans are not responsible for disciplining students in the US college system. Just to clarify, I'm from the UK where deans ARE responsible for disciplinary action. So rather than mess around with the story, I've decided I'm gonna keep the dean as being responsible for discipline at the boys' college. However, my apologies for my lack of research with regards to this particular area.

Anyway, on with chapter 25! There's a dose of nasty anti-Semitic language in this chapter, so reader discretion is advised.

Chapter 25 – Sacrifice

It's only been a month, and I've already reached the conclusion that being in college is awesome! The professors actually talk to you like you're an adult, even though you're technically not quite there yet. There's an overall more grown up atmosphere here. Although there are of course a few dickheads that sporadically make their presence known, reminding me once again that at least one fourth of the US population is retarded. I've had a couple of derelict ass-munches muttering 'faggot' as they pass me in the hallway and I'll admit that I've wanted to rip into them for it. But I've actually found that rising above it is so much more satisfying. After all, I may be a faggot but I'm a faggot who's in a secure happy relationship with a man that I love. And I'm probably getting laid on a much more regular basis than them. So fuck 'em.

I occasionally catch a glimpse of that asshole senior who Eric beat up. If I catch his eye, he'll smirk and wink condescendingly, but other than that he stays clear of me. I know now that his name is Michael Hawk, and that not only is he a racist but a chauvinist too. I've overheard him speaking to his girlfriend before and if I were her, I'd be forever slapping the taste out of his mouth. Seriously, anyone who has ever thought Eric Cartman to be the biggest jerk in the world should encounter this guy. They'd have their eyes opened, that's for sure.

Not a lot has changed on the home front. A few weekends ago, Ike came back to visit. His custody bullshit hasn't been resolved yet, so he's still stuck in New York with Mom for now. He hates it, claiming that everyone is such 'a freaky fucking Jew' there. At one point he started gushing about how much he missed me and I noticed his usual indifferent demeanour starting to falter. Before I had a chance to make a grab for the Kleenex, he was clinging to me and sobbing on my shoulder. I remember embracing him tightly, rubbing his back and making soothing sounds as his tears fell and stained my shirt. I couldn't help wondering exactly how long he'd had all of this inside of him for. How many times had he told me that he didn't care when in reality he was in pain? He may not be a Broflovski by blood, but he's got the Jewish art of stoicism mastered down to a tee.

As much as I wanted to, I didn't cry with him. I had to be strong for him, just this once. He seemed genuinely grateful for this, and I was left feeling like I'd grown as a big brother. I feel like I'm blossoming in other areas of my life too. My relationship with Eric is subtly become more mature with every passing week. Prime example - Liane wanted to put up some new drapes in the bathroom and asked for our opinion. So Eric and I proceeded to have a fifteen minute conversation about what kind we should get. Naturally it was more like an argument than an actual conversation, but it still felt like a very...adult experience. I think Eric realised this too, as he promptly slammed me up against the bathroom wall and indulged us in a few more very adult experiences as a way of concluding our debate.

Even my relationship with Stan is becoming more adult, as I discovered this afternoon at college. We sat together on the benches during a shared free period, just chatting about general shit. He'd seemed a little distracted recently. I'd been pestering him as to why, but he kept on giving me the brush off. This worried me a little - Stan has never had a problem talking to me about stuff, and it got me thinking that perhaps we aren't as close as what we used to be. Then again, some things are hard to discuss – just look at the secrets I was keeping from him not so long ago.

'So, how are things with you and Wendy?' I ask.

'Err...yeah. Great, thanks.' He doesn't sound particularly confident. Maybe that's what's been getting him down. He forces a casual smile. 'How about you and Cartman? You guys okay?'

'Never better.'

That's an understatement, but I don't really want to rub my happiness in Stan's face when he's clearly out of sorts. He nods slowly.

'That's cool. So he still...keeps you...'happy' then?'

His unusual tone catches me off guard, so much so that I struggle to form a reply.

'Er...'

'You know, like...happy?'

...Okay? He's either enquiring about the quality of my sex life, or I'm totally misreading what he's trying to say. Either way, this is pretty fucked up right here. I must be looking at him like he's from another planet, as he clears his throat nervously and looks away from me.

'Dude, is everything alright?' I ask.

He stares at the spot on the bench beside us for a moment, tracing the circular patterns in the wood with his fingertip. Eventually he sighs, still not looking up at me.

'Look, this is gonna sound a little strange, but...I need some advice from you.'

His voice kinda sounds the way that Kenny's did the night he called me from that Vegas motel. Perhaps Stan has caught a glimpse of Craig's awesome schlong too.

'What kind of advice?' I ask cautiously.

He hesitantly meets my gaze. I notice he's got that deer caught in headlights thing going on.

'Well...it's just that lately, I...'

He pauses, apparently rethinking his approach to the subject matter he has in mind.

'I just can't stop thinking about what Cartman did for you a few weeks back,' he suddenly blurts out. 'I mean, kicking the ass of a guy twice his size? I know he got into trouble for it and stuff, but it was pretty damn impressive. You just...you can tell that he has so much passion when it comes to you.'

Stan pauses again to smile at me. It takes me a moment to realise he's smiling because of the big goofy grin that has crept onto my face.

'And you're the same with him, now more than ever,' he continues. 'Even before you guys got together, it was like all you ever thought about was each other. Even when he wasn't there, you'd be like 'that fucking fatass this, that Nazi asshole that'. Cartman was the same whenever I hung out with him. 'That Jewrat will be at his lame-assed synagogue right about now. I bet that stupid Jew jerks off over his math homework.' You've always been such a part of each other's way of thinking, like you haunt each other's thoughts or something.'

I'm a little overwhelmed by Stan's observations. I always thought that even though he accepted my relationship with Eric, he never really 'got it'. I guess I was wrong – he seems to understand us pretty well.

'I see how you look at each other and it's just amazing,' he gushes. 'You have this unmistakeable desire for each other, like you'd quite happily just rip each other's clothes off and starting getting it on anywhere, anytime, regardless of who's watching.'

As pleased as I am that my best friend is so happy for me, I still don't see where this is going.

'So...exactly what advice do you want from me?'

He sighs again, starting to look increasingly more nervous and awkward.

'Don't get me wrong,' he mutters. 'Wends and me are really happy together. But I think we lack the fire that you and Cartman have.'

I shrug. 'We just have a very different relationship from you and-'

'Yeah, I know that,' he cuts in. 'I guess it's just...I'm concerned that with Wendy going to a different school, she's gonna find some rich smart guy that rocks her world and ditch me.'

I can't help rolling my eyes. Sure, Wendy was a bit flighty back when we were eight. But I haven't seen her as much as look at another guy since we were like ten or something.

'Wendy wouldn't do that to you, dude. You've been together for years. She loves you.'

'I know,' he nods. 'And I feel dumb saying it because I really do trust her. But I just want to make sure that I'm constantly in her thoughts night and day, the way that you and Cartman are always in each others. So, what's your secret? How do I, ya know... spice things up?'

I arch an eyebrow. 'You're seriously asking me for advice on your sex life? Me?'

Stan cringes at my tone. 'Too awkward for you?'

'It's not awkward. I just would have thought that Kenny would be more-'

'No, dude,' he interrupts. 'Kenny has experience, but he lacks passion. I want Wendy and me to have that raw burning lust for each other that you and Cartman have.'

I treat myself to yet another satisfied smile. 'The sex isn't the only reason our relationship is like that, you know?'

'But isn't it like, where it all began? Like, the foundation your relationship was built on or something?'

Not really. The relationship I have with Eric has pretty much always been built on the fact that no matter what how badly we've hurt each other or pissed each other off, we've never been able to put any permanent distance between us. The sex, as great as it is, was simply a catalyst, a means by which we finally came together. Seeing the desperation in Stan's eyes is the only thing that halts me from vocalising this thought.

'You sure you wanna have this discussion, dude?' I ask carefully. 'Last time we talked about sex, you nearly had a coronary.'

Stan takes a deep breath and nods firmly. 'I'm positive.'

I'm glad one of us is. What the fuck am I supposed to say? I could give him some pointers for how to improve his blowjob technique, but unless Wendy's been keeping something secret I doubt that'll be of much use to him. I close my eyes for a moment, trying to think of what exactly makes the sex between me and Eric so damn hot.

'Well...for starters, how well do you know Wendy's body?'

He looks confused. 'Like...her bra size and stuff?'

I roll my eyes. 'I mean when you close your eyes, can you visualise every inch of her? If you ran your hands over her body in the dark, would you know exactly where your hands were at all times, and exactly where they're gonna go next?'

Stan holds his palms out in front of him, studying them intently. 'Err...I guess so.'

'Guess so isn't good enough. You have to learn every inch of your partner's body to make the best use of it, see?'

'Learn every inch? I guess you've got your work cut out for you then,' he cracks.

I grin broadly. 'Every inch is worth it, believe me.'

I notice Stan wince a little at that, but I disregard it. The squeamish bastard either wants the advice or he doesn't.

'Okay, so get to know her body,' he repeats thoughtfully. 'What else?'

'Secondly, try and work out what her biggest turn ons are, and work them like crazy,' I say, feeling more confident now. 'For example, I know Eric really likes it when I'm submissive towards him, so that's what I do.'

'Well, Wendy seems to like it when I...you know...'

He gestures to his mouth then down towards his crotch.

'Eat her pussy?' I suggest.

He looks at me like I'm a complete stranger for a moment before nodding slowly.

'Well, I'm not exactly the best person to give advice on that particular act, but if Eric knows that I like a certain...thing done to me, he'll often add a special element to it.'

'Like what?'

I sigh, becoming a little impatient. I can't believe how fucking hopeless he is! This stuff is child's play as far as I'm concerned. I guess that probably says more about me than him though.

'Like do it when I least expect it, use handcuffs on me, run a feather or an ice cube over my skin...Just use your imagination, dude. Keep your tactics fresh.'

'How do I know that I'm doing what she wants though?'

I shrug. 'You'll just have to try it and find out. If you always play it safe, you'll never know. Variety is the spice of life. Eric and I are always trying new things. What's the wildest thing you would say that you've done sexually?'

He looks a little alarmed by my question. It probably didn't help that I voiced it in such a casual manner. I genuinely don't expect him to actually tell me, but after a moment he seems to unclench.

'Err...well, I went to meet her in the science lab late one evening after school. Nobody else was there so we started making out and...I ended up doing her over her desk wearing nothing but her stiletto heels.'

There's that shoe thing again. I daren't ask for clarification as to which of them was wearing the heels though. Despite the interesting shade of pink his face has turned, I don't think he found that so hard.

'Sex in school, huh?' I muse. 'Not bad.'

He gives me a small, uneasy smile. 'So...what's the wildest thing that you've done then?'

'You really wanna know?'

'Sure, why not?'

I have to think about this one for a moment. Let's see...handcuffed in Eric's basement, fun with zucchinis, blowjob on a Ferris wheel...

'Well?' Stan presses.

'Hold on, I'm trying to choose.'

'Choose?!'

I cheerfully ignore his astounded tone. 'Oh, we did some role-playing on the tracks behind Kenny's house once. It was really dark and raining heavily, and Eric had this clown mask and a toy gun with him. So he put the mask on and pretended to be a rapist. He 'forced' me to simulate oral sex on the gun, then tied me down to the tracks and stuck a goldfish up my ass. Then as he was 'forcing himself on me', he used a little autoerotic asphyxia to really get me off.'

I almost bite through my bottom lip to stop myself from laughing at the scandalized expression on Stan's face.

'Sorry I asked,' he mutters.

I shrug casually. 'Yeah, I thought you might be. Anyway, if you think of something new to do, just do it. Be spontaneous. Then listen or watch for a reaction from her so you know how she feels about it. Or if you're not sure, just ask her.'

Stan frowns. 'Wouldn't that kinda ruin the mood?'

'Of course not. Just incorporate it as part of the fun. Just make your voice go all low and syrupy, like so...'

I clear my throat and lean towards Stan, putting on my most velvety voice.

'Mmm, you like that baby? Am I making you hot for me?' I groan theatrically in his ear, before returning to my normal voice. 'That sort of thing, you know?'

Stan's blue eyes are about the size of dinner plates.

'Dude...'

I blink innocently. 'What?'

'You just moaned at me.'

His scolding tone makes me burst out laughing. When he scowls, I place my hand on his knee and squeeze it flirtatiously.

'What the matter, Stanley?' I say softly. 'Don't you like my bedroom voice?'

'No!' he cries, horrified. 'Cut it out!'

As he recoils back away from me, thick hands slide over his shoulders and massage gently.

'No? Then how 'bout mine?'

Stan lets out a pitchy yelp as Eric's husky voice purrs in his ear. I join Eric in laughter as a flustered Stan tries to get himself together. Yeah, I know we're cruel. So sue us. Stan and I make room so that Eric can sit down. When he's comfortable, he pulls me into a deep kiss. I can tell that Stan's watching us out of the corner of his eye. I never thought anyone would be envious of our relationship. I mean, it's just us. I guess we do have something pretty special though. Eric pulls away from me and smirks, winking saucily.

'Hey, Jew.'

I grin. 'Hey, fatass. How was German?'

He casually rattles off a few sentences in German in response, looking smug when Stan and I look completely confused.

'It was killer,' he clarifies. 'So, what's up with the sexy voice?'

'Stan was just asking me for some...advice.'

For once, Eric is able to read between the lines and crinkle his nose disgustedly.

'Gross. Glad I missed that conversation,' he mutters, then smirks. 'What's the matter, Stanley? You got yourself a less-than-Magic Johnson?'

Stan frowns. 'No, dude.'

'Been serving up a little boneless pork?'

'Fuck off, Cartman.'

'Been taking the gold at the Lake Flaccid Olympics?'

I make no attempt to hide my sniggering. Okay – so maybe I haven't grown up that much. Stan opens his mouth to throw another insult back at Eric when something catches his eye in the distance, making him smile wickedly.

'Hey, Bradley!'

Bradley seems a little startled by Stan's abrupt greeting, but then waves to us and starts approaching. Eric glares at the smirk Stan shoots him. He knows as well as I do how Eric regards Bradley. He still can't stand the poor guy. In fact, he positively bristles whenever Bradley is within a five foot radius of him. He says it's because Bradley's too much like Butters for his own good, but I think it's because he knows how much I like the dude. Not like like him, obviously. But I'm very fond of him - he's a decent, kind-hearted guy who's always very pleasant to me. Overly pleasant, in fact. Eric doesn't like that either. He's still adamant that Bradley has a thing for me, but I just don't see it.

'Be nice,' I mutter.

Eric feigns an offended look. 'I'm always nice.'

Before I can make what would have no doubt been a very sarcastic reply, Bradley reaches the bench, flashing us his usual shy smile. 'Hey guys.'

'Good morning, Bradley,' Eric chirps tunefully. 'My, that's a lovely shirt that you're wearing.'

Stan and I roll our eyes at the overkill as Bradley looks completely taken aback. I don't think he's ever seen Eric trying to be nice before.

'You really think so?' he asks, reaching a hand up to his chest.

'Totally,' Eric says, smiling sweetly. 'In fact, my great grandmother has one just like it-OW!'

As the heel of my foot squashes Eric's toes into the ground, Bradley seems to contemplate his words and the smile slowly return to his face.

'Well...thanks, I guess,' he says cheerfully. 'Wanna walk to psych with me, Kyle?'

I glance at my watch and nod. 'Sure.'

As I get up to leave, Eric pulls me into his lap. He runs his fingers through my tousled curls, pressing another firm kiss to my lips before sending me on my way with a playful pat to my ass. Stan and I exchange glances. Of course, that little display was pretty much totally for Bradley's benefit. It's Eric's way of saying 'My Jew! Mine!' I don't know why he doesn't just cock his leg and piss on me. I guess this is just another example of the passion that Stan is so desirous for.

Bradley and I chat about the papers that we've been working on as we make our way to the psych room. This is actually our last class of the day, and it seems to fly by. I'm pretty glad about that – we've been studying a shitload of new material today and I'm gonna need some time to chill out and get my head around it. Sounds like I'm not the only one as I hear Bradley sigh in relief next to me when the professor dismisses the class. As I put my books away, I see a loose piece of paper floating around in the bottom of my backpack. That's odd – I'm an obsessive filer when it comes to paperwork and never have things loose. I fish it out and realise that it's not actually a piece of paper, but an envelope. I freeze as I read the four bold letters on the front of it.

'KIKE'

I clench my teeth as a jolt of anger rushes through my body. I guess it's safe to assume that this is for me. Gingerly, I tear open the flap and skim my eyes over the enclosed typed page of A4.

'The personification of the devil as the symbol of all evil assumes the living shape of the Jew.

Let me begin by informing you that this letter is for your eyes only. I can promise you that if you alert anyone else as to the existence of this letter, I'll make sure that you live to regret it.

The Jew has always been a people with definite racial characteristics and never a religion.

Since the moment I first saw you, I've been watching you in disgust. There is no place in this life for your kind. The world would be a perfect place if not for you and your vile kin scarring the earth's face like an ugly unsightly boil.

This poisoning of the nation will not end, until the carrier himself, the Jew, has been banished from our midst.

Exterminating you Christ-murdering bloodsuckers should be made an act of public service. I have spared you thus far, biding my time. My moment has almost arrived. I am ready to act in the name of my God and country.

The Jews will be hanged one after another, and they will stay hanging until they stink.

Are you scared, kike? You should be. I'm not bluffing. Your faggot boyfriend won't always be there to protect you. The second I catch you alone, I shall have you. I shall string you up by your neck and watch you writhe like the worthless serpent you are. And as you draw your final breath, I will ask you how it feels to die in the name of the Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

I believe that I am acting in accordance with the will of the Almighty Creator: by defending myself against the Jew, I am fighting for the work of the Lord.'

Crudely scribbled at the foot of the letter in black pen is a short sentence in German.

'Ich hoffe, dass wir uns bald mal kennenlernen.'

An icy chill runs up my spine. I'm used to some degree of anti-Semitism, but Cartman at his worst wouldn't have said anything like this. This isn't the harmless teasing that I'm familiar with. This dude means business. It seems stupid, but I've never been able to comprehend senseless prejudice like this. I've never personally done anything to offend this individual to my knowledge. Is this guy really saying he wants to hurt me just because I'm Jewish? Surely he knows I can't help the way I was born. I just don't understand it. I know I sound really fucking dumb saying it, but I just don't...

A hand on my shoulder causes me to cry out and leap from my chair. It's only Bradley, who looks alarmed and concerned by my violent reaction.

'What's the matter, Kyle? You look kinda pale.'

For whatever reason, I can't speak. Before I can think, I hand the letter to him. His aquamarine eyes double in size.

'My God, that... that's awful!' he gasps. 'Who would write something so horrible?'

'I don't know. I...'

I'm astonished at the trembling in my voice. I sound...terrified? Frustrated? I don't know... The next thing I'm aware of is Bradley pulling me into a consoling hug. I'm usually not keen on people I don't know very well touching me, but I'm too perturbed by that fucking letter to care right now. I let out a shaky sigh as Bradley rubs my back soothingly.

'It's okay, Kyle,' he whispers in my ear.

I really wish I could believe him...

'What the hell's going on?'

I look up at the sound of Eric's voice. He and Stan are lingering in the doorway, staring at us. Ignoring Eric's irritated expression I pull away from Bradley and make a grab for the letter, shoving it into the back pocket of my jeans. I can't let Eric see this. He'll go fucking batshit.

'It's nothing. I just don't feel very well. Let's just go home.'

Again, the voice that comes out of my mouth doesn't sound like mine. I fumble with my backpack as Eric and Stan look at each other in bewilderment. Bradley's hand squeezes my shoulder again.

'Kyle, you can't keep this hidden from your friends.'

I cringe, because I know he's right. Eric approaches us, eyeing Bradley suspiciously.

'Keep what hidden?'

Goddamn it... Recovering the letter out of my back pocket, I hesitantly hold it out to Eric.

'Promise me you won't flip out.'

He makes no such promise as he takes the letter from me. The further he reads down the page, the darker his eyes become.

'Motherfucker!'

He accentuates his outrage by slamming the letter down full force onto my desk. The jarring sound does nothing to help my nerves. I feel like a fucking wreck - I'm actually shaking. Bradley notices and guides me back into my seat. He puts his arm around my shoulder but it isn't there for long before Eric takes over, kneeling by my side and wrapping his arms around me. I lean into his familiar warmth, instantly feeling a little better despite the fact I'm being held by someone who looks like he wants to go out and kill something. Stan joins us, leaning over the front of my desk and studying the letter.

'My God...Kyle, where did you find this?' he asks softly.

'In my backpack,' I say, feeling as miserable as I sound.

'Any idea who could have put it there?' Bradley cuts in. 'Did you notice anyone hanging around you, looking suspicious?'

'No,' I sigh, shaking my head. 'It could have happened any time. At lunch, during class, when I was walking in the hallway... It could have been there all week for all I know. I just...I don't know.'

It's chilling. I never leave my backpack unattended. So this person who apparently wants to kill me has been close enough to me to put a threatening letter in my backpack without me noticing. I think I'm gonna puke. I notice the pitying looks Stan and Bradley are giving me as Eric's arms tighten around me.

'This is fucked up, dude,' Stan mutters. 'You have to show this to the police.'

'Fuck that!' Eric cries. 'Didn't you read the letter?'

'We can't just do nothing, Cartman!' Stan snaps.

'One thing we're not doing is testing this psycho's patience, Marsh!'

'Guys, please stop,' Bradley pipes up. 'Kyle doesn't need this right now.'

'What the hell do you know about what Kyle needs?' Eric snarls.

'What I need is to go home,' I croak. 'Can we just get out of here, please?'

Stan nods. 'No problem, dude. Let's go.'

My knees are weak as I get up from the desk. I feel pretty stupid for getting like this. I'm usually pretty unflappable – maybe I'm in shock or something. I'm trying to be rational, telling myself that I should consider myself lucky that I've only had a letter. This nutjob could have easily just killed me right off the bat without any warning. But somehow, these thoughts do nothing to help the nauseous feeling in my gut. As we leave the classroom, I feel my quaking hand being captured by Eric's strong one. He squeezes my fingers tightly in his palm as we walk to the parking lot, ignoring all the stares and whispers. I'm pretty sure he tells a few people to fuck off too. I'm not sure – I can't focus.

We bump into Butters on the way to the parking lot. He seems very concerned about the state I'm in, but we spare him the details and keep the letter hidden from him. He's a sensitive kind of guy who adores his friends, and he's bound to get upset if he reads that shit. We say our goodbyes to Bradley and just as we're about to get in Stan's car, we hear obnoxious laughter behind us. I turn and see that Hawk asshole standing having a smoke with a couple of the other football players by a rundown old pickup-truck. He catches me looking at him and gives me his usual nasty grin and wink. Unfortunately, Eric sees the gesture too. With a snarl, he drags me over to the group. I feel my insides do a somersault at the way Hawk eyes me up. Eric boldly gets right up in his smirking face.

'So you're gonna hang him by the neck, huh?' he hisses dangerously.

Hawk looks around at his posse, apparently genuinely confused. He snorts in laughter, blowing smoke into Eric's face as he does so.

'What the fuck are you on, Chunk?'

'Let me tell you something,' Eric continues, ignoring the insult. 'You'll never get your chance. I will always be here to protect him. Got that, fucker?'

Hawk rolls his eyes dismissively. 'I'm happy for you, faggot. Now, fuck off.'

He emphasises his point by flicking his cigarette butt at Eric's chest. I'm about to drag Eric back over to the guys when Hawk grins at me again.

'You know... for a heeb, you sure got a purdy mouth.'

'Don't push me, dickhead!' Eric yells.

My grip on his hand tightens as Hawk and company laugh in his face. I'm starting to feel very anxious. Eric's kept remarkably cool so far, but he's close to losing it. There's no way in hell he could handle all of these guys on his own. I hear Stan and Butters approaching, which makes me feel a little better.

'Check out that fine ass too,' one of the jocks drawls, looking me up and down. 'Think he could pass for a chick from behind?'

'It's all the same when your eyes are closed, man,' another chips in.

The group laugh again as I feel my face starting to go red. I'm not sure if it's from embarrassment or anger, though the latter is more likely. I tug at Eric's hand insistently, gritting my teeth together as I try to block out their taunts.

'Hey, Broflovski? You ever get tired of Poppin' Fresh there, you should come see us sometime.'

'Yeah, we'll make you scream 'oy vey' over and over.'

'Fuck you, asshole!' I snap.

Curse my temper. Hawk smirks at my outburst.

'Yeah I'd bet you'd like that, wouldn't ya...' He shifts his eyes to Eric, arching an eyebrow in challenge. 'Kike.'

'That fucking does it!'

I hear a distinctive click and make a grab for Eric's other hand as he lunges at Hawk. Luckily Stan and Butters are there to back me up. They each grab an arm while I try to prise the switchblade out of Eric's hand. Unfortunately, no-one has any hands free to cover his mouth.

'You fucking sack of shit! I'll kill you! I swear to God, I'll fucking kill you!'

Hawk and his buddies are totally unfazed by his fury, and just stand there grinning at our struggling group. It doesn't take long until we find out why.

'Mr Cartman!'

The dean's furious booming voice appears to be the release mechanism for Eric's hand. The knife jingles as it hits the asphalt. Everyone freezes, seemingly holding their breath as they stare downwards at the sharp glinting blade.

Goddamn it...

* * * * *

Today has been nothing but a fucking disaster. Eric didn't get out of the dean's office until after five. I told Stan and Butters to go, but they didn't want to leave me on my own. I felt bad for them having to wait – I'm very grateful but they shouldn't be getting swept up in my little drama when both of them have their own lives to attend to. When Eric finally emerged, the news was anything but good. The dean's previous warning hadn't been an idle threat.

When Eric confirmed to us that he'd been expelled, the day's events all became too much for me to handle. I just put my arms around him and broke down right there in the hallway. I wasn't hysterical or anything, but I still felt like such a jackass afterwards. Both Stan and Eric have seen me cry before, but I could tell that Butters just didn't know what to do or where to put himself. I apologised profusely for putting him in that situation before he got out of the car. In typical Butters fashion, he just looked at me like he had no idea what I was talking about and smiled kindly before leaving wordlessly.

Other than my garbled apology to Butters, the ride home was completely silent. As Eric and I were about to get out of the car, I caught Stan's eyes in the rear view mirror. He opened his mouth to say something, but decided to just leave it at giving me one of his patented super best friend smiles. It's the smile that always says, 'I'm here for you. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask.' I automatically smiled back - I always appreciate it.

Once we were in the house Eric flopped down onto the couch with a deep aggravated sigh, glaring at the switched off television in front of him. I slowly sat next to him, choosing to fix my gaze on the grandfather clock in the corner of the room. Liane wouldn't be home for a few hours – she'd told us this morning that she'd be out with the girls from work tonight. Shit – how is he gonna tell her he's been expelled? She was so proud of him for making it into college. Judging by the expression on his face, he doesn't look overly concerned about that right now. We sit side by side on the couch in silence for a long time. One of us needs to say something soon. I don't think I even know where to begin though.

'You shouldn't have done that, Eric.' All I get is a blank look in response to that. I sigh impatiently. 'What the fuck were you thinking?'

'Isn't it obvio-'

I don't let him finish. 'You pulled a knife on him, dude!'

He actually rolls his eyes at me! 'Yeah well, he had it coming to him.'

'We didn't even have any proof it was him that sent the letter.'

'We had fucking good reason to assume as much.'

I shake my head. 'Not good enough reason for you to go getting yourself expelled.'

'I don't care about that!' he snaps.

'Well, you should!' I counter, equally as snippy. 'You worked so fucking hard to get into college, Eric.'

'Well, sorry if I'm slightly more bothered by the fact that some homicidal fucknut wants to fucking kill you!'

I open my mouth to reply, but no words come. How can I argue with him?

'You know me better than anyone, Kyle,' he growls. 'Seriously, can you really say that you're surprised I went so fucking crazy after reading that letter? And then hearing what that sick fuck had to say?'

'I'm not surprised, no,' I reply dumbly.

'I did what I did in your defence, Kyle,' he continues heatedly. 'I did it to protect you.'

Although I know it's not his intention, I feel a little guilty when he puts it like that. I watch him silently, listening to him mutter as he cradles his head in his hands.

'Goddamn it...stupid Jew...you mean everything to me...'

'I know...' I whisper.

He looks up when I lean in and kiss his cheek. His deep brown eyes seem to glow with pure emotion - a mixture of hurt, devotion, fear and rage. They'd scare me if I didn't understand them so well.

'I took a risk today and lost,' he murmurs. 'So be it. You're not the only one who's willing to make sacrifices for the good of our relationship.'

I say nothing to response. I can't. I guess that's an element to our relationship that not even Stan can comprehend – our complete willingness to do anything for each other, no matter what the cost. Whether it's walking into San Francisco during a smug storm or struggling against rising waters in a cave. Giving up our families and homes or risking our futures and even our very lives...

No sacrifice is too much.

* * * * *

No sex scene this time. Sorry about that, but I thought it might downplay the seriousness of the chapter. That and the fact that I'm totally burned out. I always find dramatic chapters particularly exhausting. Kyle's letter was probably the most horrible thing I've ever had to write. In case you were wondering, the bold parts are all Hitler quotes. The German roughly translates as 'I hope to be meeting with you very soon.'

The overall tone of chapter 26 will be much more upbeat than this one. We haven't seen Kenny for a while, so he'll be featuring somewhere.

Thanks for reading! Do review, if it suits you. :) See you next time!

DD

xx

PS: For those of you who don't check my profile regularly, I just wanted to let you know that I'm currently working on the groundwork for a new story. It's gonna be a Butters/Kyle/Cartman triangle type thing which probably won't be as epic as Kyle in Chains, but that's all I'm saying for now. I want to get Kyle in Chains finished first before posting anything new, but I just wanted to give you a head's up regarding what I have in the works.