(A/n: Finally updated this I know lol This is a two-shot.
Summary: A normal day suddenly takes a very scary and peculiar dive.
Any mistakes will be taken care of later, please enjoy)
Chapter 22: Near Fatal Encounter (Pt. 1)
School is just now ending for the day, eager students vacate the building. Parked near the curb are six school buses, their doors opened for entry.
"It's finally the weekend," Kenny smiles, stretching his arms high above his head. Him, his boyfriend Stan, Kyle, and Cartman all head towards the first bus.
"Yeah, if only it was Summer break though," Stan says woefully, Kyle and Cartman nodding their heads in agreement.
Kenny groans at the truth in his statement, but isn't really disappointed by the fact. They only have three more weeks of school left, just last Friday they'd survived through the stressful phase known as final exam week. The teenagers are expected to receive their scores one day during their three month long vacation.
Stan's group boards the yellow and black vehicle, Stan and Kenny sitting together, Kyle sitting behind them, and Cartman sitting on the opposite side of Kyle. Shortly after, more people start occupying the empty seats.
"I know I'm gonna ask the obvious, but what are you guys gonna do over the weekend?" Kyle questions.
"Obviously I'm gonna spend time with my good ol' buddy Kahl."
Kyle looks to Cartman with a deadpan frown, the brunette flashing him an innocent eye smile. "I'd rather not. The last time we 'hung out' together, you kept whining every time I suggested something for us to do. I know for a fact you were doing it on purpose."
Cartman's grin drops. "I actually wasn't, your ideas sounded hella boring." He shrugs when Kyle glares at him. "Hey at least I gave you a chance to do what you wanted to do, just I wasn't gonna be any part of it."
"Then there was no point hanging out then! You just wasted my time!"
"Oh yeah speaking of wasted time, how are you gonna compensate for wasting mine?"
"By giving you jack shit!"
Shaking their heads, Stan and Kenny drown out their friends' routinely bantering. But conversations from most of the students start softly talking over them. "So, you comin' over today Ken?" Stan asks glancing at the blonde.
"Hell yeah I am!" Kenny beams. "Just gotta stop by the house and grab some clothes, then I'll be right over." The bus driver begins to drive out of the school zone, as do the other five behind them. "But man I can't wait for break to start. I'm gonna be over your house so much ya'll might as well let me move in."
Stan laughs. "I can't wait either, hopefully we can go out of state this year."
"That would be awesome."
They stay on the subject by listing places they would like to travel to during their school-free Summer or ones to go to somewhere in the future until Kenny's stop arrives.
*Later In The Evening*
Kenny approaches the Marsh's doorstep, grumbling about how he's going to need to buy another bag under his breath as he presses the doorbell. The black sports bag he has slung over his shoulder is durable, but he's tired of always coming here with it in this dirty, battered state. Damn mice think they're slick turning it into their little home whenever he doesn't use it. Mrs. Marsh volunteered to wash it for him every time he came over, he turned her kind offer down of course, saying that it would only get dirty again once he returned home, but the woman was persistent and in the end he let her have her way. Today isn't going to be any different, once she sees his bag she's going to want to make it look brand new. Kenny thinks she also does it to keep her house from smelling, he doesn't blame her but the notion still stings.
"Coming!" The familiar voice of Mrs. Marsh calls out from inside.
While he waits, Kenny turns away from the door, taking in every aspect his eyes can absorb of the serene, sterile neighborhood. The sun had dyed the sky a bright yellow-orange, there are no clouds in sight. The calm scenery makes him feel nostalgic, and also envious. If only the poor side of the town could give off the same ambience, perhaps living there would be somewhat more manageable.
"Hello Kenny." Snapping out of his daze, Kenny spins around to see Mrs. Marsh opening the door for him to enter. Smiling, he greets her with a nod, walking into the house. He takes off his shoes beside theirs. "Stan went out to get some things at the convenience store, he should be back pretty soon," she tells him closing the door.
"Hey Kenny," Mr. Marsh waves lazily, slouched against the couch watching t.v. Kenny waves back.
"Alright, you know the drill." Mrs. Marsh walks past him.
"Yes ma'am," Kenny sighs. He makes his way up to his boyfriend's room, the door slightly ajar. He pushes it wider, flicking on the light switch he stops and inhales Stan's scent. He'll never get tired of the citrus fragrance, though this time it's vague. Most likely because Stan left some time ago. Taking off his bag as he nears the noirette's bed, Kenny unzips it and dumps all of his clothes on top of it. Unlike his bag they all smell fresh, he made sure they were washed at home, not caring that he used up all the washing detergent. He'll buy some more anyway.
Walking out of the bedroom and heading down the stairs, Kenny goes to the laundry room. Mrs. Marsh was waiting for him there, standing next to the washing machine. Kenny hands her his bag, this marks the twentieth time. Yes he's been keeping count. Thanking her, he walks out unsure on what to do until Stan gets back. But then he realizes something, or rather someone's absence.
"Where's loud mouth?"
"She's spending the night over a friend's house," Mrs. Marsh answers over the vibrating washing machine.
"Yes," Kenny cheers quietly. With her gone the whole weekend, they don't have to worry about her constantly butting in on their alone time. Even Mr. and Mrs. Marsh aren't that nosy, well not anymore. Shelly's prying is done deliberately.
Kenny steps foot into the living room, looking at the flat screen television to see what Mr. Marsh has been watching. He raises an eyebrow, he could be mistaken but after hearing a certain male character's name getting said from one of the four women on screen, he gets the feeling that this is that 'popular' reality show the girls have been talking about at school these past few weeks. Seconds later it cuts to a fast food commercial. "Mr. Marsh you into-" A snore cuts him off, he stifles a laugh. "Yeah I didn't think so, Mrs. Marsh was probably watchin' it...Oh yeah, I need to take care of my clothes." He goes back up to Stan's room, and gets to work, putting them in the drawers next to Stan's own dresser. They are different colors to prevent confusion, Kenny's is dark brown and Stan's is black. Since Kenny frequented their house ever since middle school, Sharon thought to buy him a separate dresser for his clothes whenever he spent the night. Something Stan didn't mind at all.
"Aaand done." Putting his last pair of pants into the bottom drawer, Kenny pushes it closed. The surfacing silence reminds him that Stan is still out, he turns to look at the LED alarm clock on the nightstand. It's 6:58 p.m. "Jeez, what the hell's takin' him so long?" He saw Stan's navy blue car still parked in the driveway right behind his parents' cars so he can cross out the chances of him having gotten stuck in traffic. Actually that wouldn't of happened in the first place, while he was on his way over the streets were practically deserted of any vehicles, plus the nearest convenience store is like less than ten minutes away even by foot.
Reaching into his pants pocket for his smartphone - Stan had bought it for him for his birthday last year - Kenny unlocks it to text Stan. Before he can do so, an alert pops up informing him that his device is low on battery. Face-palming, he ambles towards Stan's bed, his hazel eyes scanning the dark blue sheets for his phone charger. Only to see that it's nowhere on top of it...Meaning he'd forgotten it in his bag...That's currently being washed. "Fuck!"
Fearing the worst, he sprints out of Stan's room, but skids to a stop upon seeing Mrs. Marsh about to make her way up the stairs, a long white cord in hand. "Oh I was just about to-" Kenny suddenly embraces her into a hug.
"Thank you, thank you, thank yoooou!"
Sharon laughs, patting his back. "You're welcome."
Retrieving his charger, Kenny goes back up to Stan's room. Sharon shakes her head smiling, she joins her snoozing husband on the sofa, her show resuming where it left off.
Plugging both ends of his charger into their appropriate outlets, Kenny turns on his phone again deciding to call Stan instead. Putting his mobile number on speed dial, Kenny holds his phone up to his ear as it starts to ring. After the fourth ring, he gets sent to Stan's voicemail.
"Hey just leave a message or text me, and I'll get back to you as soon as I can."
Furrowing his eyebrows, Kenny calls again, and a second time, and a third time. All attempts were fruitless. Shutting off and lowering his phone over his lap, Kenny frowns staring down at his reflection through the blank screen. An uneasy weight settles within his chest. Placing the device on the nightstand, Kenny gets up and walks out of the room. "Hey Mrs. Marsh, how long ago did Stan leave?" He stops after descending the last step.
Sharon knits her eyebrows in deep thought. "Umm, I think fifteen minutes..ago..." She develops a worried look on her face.
"I'm gonna go find 'em." Kenny goes to slip on his shoes, Sharon telling him to be careful as Kenny opens the door and exits the house, closing the door behind him.
He bolts down the sidewalk en route of the nearby convenience store. The sun had went further downward coating the sky in a darker orange, Kenny needs to hurry before it becomes nighttime. Thankfully, just like the road, the pavement is also bare of any pedestrians aside from himself. He can reach his destination undisturbed. After running for five and a half minutes, the blue lights of a familiar store sign comes into closer view. However a strange pungence assaults his nose.
The blonde slows to a halt scrunching up his face at the stench, he covers his mouth and nose with the collar of his shirt and holds it to keep it there. "Damn did somethin' die around here?" He turns to face his right, looking into an obvious place for the odor to be originating from. An alleyway. With the help of a streetlamp's white light, Kenny can make out a few trashcans toppled over, their contents scattered all over the ground as if an altercation had transpired here. Guess he can feel reassured that nobody died...But wait...is that a shoe? Kenny squints his eyes. "No..." That's not just any shoe, it's Stan's!
Saving the questions for later, Kenny steps into the darkness. His heart drops when he sees someone laying on their side out cold on the ground, two or three white plastic bags discarded around them with drinks and snacks dispersed deeper in the alley. The person's clothes giveaway that this is indeed his boyfriend. "Oh no, no, no, no..." Panicking, Kenny gets on his knees, rounding an arm behind Stan's back and situating him on his lap. He's still breathing, though it's labored. Kenny inspects his face, aside from the grime on his cheek he's not sporting any bruises. He looks completely unharmed. Kenny wants to feel relieved, but it only makes him even more concerned. "He..he didn't get..." He can't finish the thought, a nauseating sensation churns in his stomach.
Planting a soft kiss on Stan's forehead, Kenny straightens the noirette's body up against the wall. Turning away, Kenny reaches back to grab both of Stan's wrists, pulling his arms over his shoulders. Once he feels him pressing against his back, Kenny slowly stands on his feet, hooking his arms around Stan's dangling legs. Ensuring that he won't slip off, Kenny takes off into a light jog back to the Marsh's residence, collecting the lone shoe along the way. All the while he racks his brain for an excuse to tell Stan's parents.
Upon their arrival, once Kenny renters the house shutting the door then dropping Stan's shoe next the others at the entrance, Sharon immediately asks what happened and where Stan was all this time. She's still seated in the living room, Randy is wide awake.
"I'll explain after I put him to bed. He's okay though." The woman appears only slightly at ease from his pensive reply and meek grin. But that was all that mattered to her, her son returning home safely. She nods, signalling Kenny to continue on his way.
Kenny enters Stan's room, gently laying the teen down on his bed. Taking off his shoe, Kenny gives him another look over, reminding himself to clean his face when he comes back. But it looks like that won't be all he'll have to do, Kenny notices a stain in the center of Stan's shirt. He naturally overlooked this because it's purple, and the streetlight didn't reach far enough where they were. He frowns, the smear seems a bit big to be a dirt stain. Was he perhaps laying in dumpster water? Wait no that's not it, Stan was laying on his side, not on his stomach. Trying not to have any morbid thoughts, Kenny nervously lifts up Stan's shirt. What he sees makes his blood run cold.
"H-holy fuck..."
On his abdomen are three diagonal, bloody scratches, but what horrifies Kenny the most is their size and how deep they are. No dog or cat could've done this, these look like a bear's doing if nothing else.
"H-how the fuck did this happen...?" Kenny thinks grimacing strongly as he releases Stan's heavily sullied shirt.
Stan is better off going to the hospital, but Kenny would lose his parents' trust after he'd so calmly reassured them that their son was fine. And he did not want that. Kenny is going to have to treat his wounds himself with their first-aid kit, luckily Stan keeps one in his bathroom and it hasn't been used at all. "Wait...how'd he get scratched through his shirt?" Quickly shoving the thought out of his mind for a later time, Kenny wanders back into the living room. Hearing his footsteps, the adults direct their restless eyes over to his appearing figure.
Now in the living room, he pauses in front of the stairway. "You guys remember when me and Stan used to get bullied?" From the looks of their bitter frowns, they do remember. "Well, those fuckers ganged up on him as he was leavin' the store. Had I gotten to him a little sooner I would've kicked their asses." He feels so bad for lying, and it's not a good one either. It is true that they attracted quite a lot of homophobes at both their middle and high schools, however they began to lay off once they found out he nor Stan weren't going to tolerate their harassment idly. And ever since no one dared to pester them, though that didn't stop them from shooting unsubtle scowls of disgust their way. It's just Stan's parents aren't aware of this yet, Kenny guesses it's a fortunate thing otherwise his fib would be invalid.
"I see..." Sharon mutters averting her gaze to the bright flickering lights on the television, her and Randy looking conflicted. Kenny tenses, becoming anxious. Do they not believe him? Heaving a sigh, Sharon rises from her seat and faces Kenny. "I'd better get started on dinner," she smiles faintly. "Thanks for bringing him home. Had you not been here and this happened...we..we wouldn't have even known." Her voice wavering, her expression of gratitude crumbles as her cerulean eyes brim with tears. The mere thought of her child still being out there unconscious without anyone knowing both angers and saddens her.
Understanding her sentiment, Kenny hugs her again. "I'll-no we'll get back at them at school on Monday." He pulls back. "You won't mind if we get suspended do ya?" He grins.
"Not at all!" Randy says before his wife could answer. "Show those punks no mercy!"
"Yes sir!" Kenny laughs.
Stifling a laugh herself, Sharon wipes her eyes. "I'll call you down once the food is ready, if Stan doesn't wake up by then his will be put in the fridge." Nodding, Kenny retreats to Stan's room, meanwhile Sharon heads for the kitchen. Randy reaches for the remote on the small glass table to change the channel.
Pushing the bedroom door closed, Kenny goes into the noirette's bathroom. Flipping up the light switch, he bends down and opens the bottom sink door, seizing the first-aid kit then grabbing a big white towel (Much to his dismay) from off the towel rack. Rushing out, he nears Stan, swearing under his breath at the amount of blood he'd exuded during the three minutes he was gone. His shirt is soaked almost entirely in his blood and had seeped into the covers. It seems the pain had woken him for his pale, sweaty face is contorted in anguish. Now Kenny is on an even tighter schedule.
Slinging the towel over his shoulder, Kenny sets the kit down near the end of the bed. Unfastening the lid, he opens it and picks out all the supplies he's going to need - ointment and a roll of gauze. After that, he pulls Stan's shirt up to his chest, the teen letting out a feeble groan as the cool air aggravates his searing injuries. Kenny doesn't have time to examine the gruesome details, taking the towel he nips his bottom lip, bracing himself for the outbursts he's about to hear.
"Sorry Stanny, this is gonna hurt."
As gently as he can muster, Kenny dabs the smooth cloth on one of the scratches, instantly eliciting a yelp from the other. He startles Kenny even though he'd prepared himself for it, but thankfully his short cry didn't reach his parents' ears. For now. Kenny glances around, but is unable to find anything that he can use to muffle Stan's wails of agony. He refuses to put a sock in his mouth, that would be just..no. Kenny leaves Stan's side to go back into the bathroom, spotting a vital item in a straw basket next to the bathtub straightaway. Snatching up the blue washcloth, he hurries back to Stan's bed, greatly relieved to see him groggily blinking his eyes open.
"Oh good, you're wakin' up." Weakly, Stan turns his head in Kenny's direction, his blonde hair is the only thing he can make out through blurry vision. His whole body hurts, more so on his stomach. "I'm gonna need to stuff this in your mouth, so you don't scare your folks." Stan blinks wearily, he can't identify the obscured blue object in one of Kenny's hands. Suddenly, Kenny hovers it towards him. "I'll try to get this over with as fast as I can," he hears him say. Feeling something tap against his lip, Stan instinctively presses his lips tightly together. Once Kenny reassures him that it's just one of his rags, he opens his mouth. He's far too tired and in pain to question anything at the moment.
Kenny carefully widens Stan's mouth to push the cloth in. Once it's properly secured, Kenny resumes his task. The second the towel touches the cut, Stan's scream is successfully suppressed by the washcloth. The additional affliction fully rousing him. Kenny apologizes, telling him he's wiping off the blood but will take a while since he's bled so much.
. . .
Thirty-five minutes.
Stan had to endure the overwhelming discomfort for thirty-five ceaseless minutes. He almost passed out at some points, but managed to stay conscious thanks to Kenny's soothing Southern accented voice. Now that the intense pain is gradually ebbing, he craves sleep.
The blonde breathes out a heavy sigh whilst putting the used bundle of bandages inside the kit, the washcloth had been thrown into the bathroom sink. After he'd finished tending to Stan's wounds, Kenny wiped away the dirt and sweat from his face using that very rag. Fastening the lid shut, Kenny frowns at fresh blood slowly leaking through the messily applied dressing. He feared this would occur, the small tube of ointment wasn't enough for three big gashes. But there's nothing he can do about it right now, Mrs. Marsh had announced that dinner was ready ten minutes ago. Kenny had to lie again, saying that he was going to try to wake Stan up so he could join them. That's definitely not going to happen.
"Shiiit," Kenny curses nervously. "Umm, how do you-wait don't fall asleep!" Stan groans when a hand lightly nudges his arm, but he doesn't open his eyes. He's exhausted. "C'mon, we gotta change you outta that shirt." "Even though it's gonna get blood on it too." Kenny grabs a random top from Stan's dresser for him to wear, it has green and white stripes. Hoisting it on his shoulder, Kenny helps Stan sit up, who hisses and tries to lay back down. "I gotcha, I gotcha." Stan fights through the hot pain with Kenny's support. "Raise your arms." He does as ordered, Kenny hastily switching his shirt with the new one. Stan's body slumps back, his head hitting the pillow. It doesn't take long for him to drift off to sleep.
Kenny sighs again, balling up the blood stained shirt. "Since he's not goin' to dinner, I should've changed him into his pajamas instead." He shakes his head with an exasperated groan. "No, blood would've gotten on them." Looks like he's going to have to come up with another false excuse, great...
Tossing the soiled fabric off to the side, Kenny trudges down to the dining room so that Mr. and Mrs. Marsh won't wonder about his extended tardiness any longer. A mouth-watering aroma wafts all around the lower floor. It incites Kenny's gut, but the teen himself is too immersed in his thoughts to hear it rumble. It isn't until Mrs. Marsh addresses him that he snaps out of his pondering.
"Is Stan not coming?"
Frowning, Kenny shakes his head. "Said he'll eat later." As he takes his seat, he notices with increasing guilt that they haven't touched their food yet. Mrs. Marsh cooked his favorite: Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and peas. Well, he hates peas, but never had the heart to tell her that. There's also a bowl of bread rolls, and a large liter of Coca-Cola in the middle of the table. Sharon's and Randy's glasses are already filled with the dark drink.
"Hope he's not beating himself up over what happened," Mr. Marsh says picking up a chicken leg. "They caught him off guard, bunch of pussies," he grumbles the last part to himself, then starts eating.
Kenny grabs the soda bottle to pour some in his cup. "I told him the same thing, and that we're gonna get revenge come Monday." He'll actually tell him in the morning.
All throughout dinner, Kenny struck up a few conversation topics, as to not seem troubled and further worry the two. By the time they're all done, they deposit their dishes into the dishwasher. Sharon wraps Stan's food in plastic foil, and puts it in the refrigerator. Bidding them goodnight, Kenny saunters back into Stan's room for the last time today. A strong metallic fetor agitates his nostrils just several steps away from the source. It reminds him that he needs to change the bed sheets, but Stan is doubtlessly in a deep slumber, and he doesn't want to bother him. He deserves to rest.
Kenny opens a lone door on his left, inspecting the covers he knows is on the first and second shelves before claiming a thick dark colored one. Closing the door with a very faint click, Kenny enters then taps the door to Stan's room shut with his foot. Walking towards the noirette's bed, he sees that the bed sheet he picked out is a muddy brown shade. He regards Stan's midsection, his new shirt is already dyed red and it's only growing little by little with each fleeting second.
Kenny clenches the duvet, he doesn't know what else to do. He can't risk dirtying anymore towels to staunch the bleeding, leaving him helpless to think up any other means.
But then he realizes something.
He was already intending to drape the brown bed sheet over them since Stan is on top of his own covers, so all the blood will blend in with the brown...and will only reek of the red fluid.
Sighing and deciding to deal with the consequences tomorrow somehow, Kenny notices he didn't put the first-aid kit away. He considers using another roll of gauze and follows through with it, tying it slightly tighter than the rest. Afterwards, he returns it to it's initial spot. He turns off the ceiling light, coating the room in darkness. He navigates back to the bed, climbing up and sitting with his back pressed against the wall. He unfolds the blanket to make it a little longer, then vertically lays it over Stan's body. It stretches all the way to his toes.
Kenny pushes his knees up to his chest, hugging them. He keeps a fixated gaze on his boyfriend, despite not being able to see him. The whole night, Kenny couldn't sleep. The sheer fear of Stan dying from blood loss plagued his mind non-stop.
(A/n: I hope enjoyed and the next part will be up soon)