"Ugh. My head is pounding." were the first words that entered my head, quickly followed by "Where am I?"

I slowly opened my eyes, shutting them again as I was temporarily blinded by the lights in my room. Wait, my room?!

I sat up suddenly, trying to see what was going on, only to collapse onto my bed again, gasping as the pain in my head overwhelmed me.

"Please don't move so suddenly, Douchebag. You're still weak." a familiar voice said softly. My eyes opened again, wider this time. Butters!

I looked to my right and, sure enough, there was Butters sitting on the bed next to me. He was wearing a light blue shirt and dark green pants. His paladin outfit was lying in a corner of the room, with my thief outfit next to it. I was in my usual outfit, too. I took another good look at Butters and noticed that he'd been crying.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, placing a hand on my forehead. I grunted, trying to sit up again. Butters helped me, placing some pillows against my back. When I looked up again, I saw that he was glaring at me. I gulped.

"What were you thinking?" he asked me, his expression hurt. I could tell he wanted to yell, but didn't because of my head. "You promised you wouldn't do that eye thing again!"

I looked down, no longer able to look at him. I knew he wouldn't forgive me, but I had no choice. If I hadn't gotten the Stick back, Cartman would not have let it slide. Plus, someone had to put the Bard back in his place. Even though I wasn't looking at Butters, I could feel that he was shaking. I chanced another look at him and instantly regretted it.

He was no longer glaring at me, but instead was staring at his hands, tears falling from his eyes. "You promised." he whimpered, sending a wave of guilt over my being, "Is this game really that important to you?"

I continued to look at my friend, feeling horrible. Then, not knowing what else to do, I reached forward and pulled him into a hug, just like he did after he slapped me. Butters tensed as he fell against my chest, but he didn't struggle and soon relaxed, returning the embrace as he cried into my shoulder.

After a while, just as Butters was starting to calm down, the doorbell rang, and I heard an unfamiliar male voice talking to my dad. I felt Butters stiffen as his arms tightened around me.

"S-Sounds like my dad's here." he muttered, his words muffled in the fabric of my shirt. I growled. I didn't want Butters to leave. Narrowing my eyes, I pulled out my phone and quickly sent out a text message, just as my door flew open to admit my father, followed immediately by a man I didn't recognize, who I assumed to be Butters' father.

"Butters! What do you think you're doing?" the unfamiliar man bellowed. Butters flinched.

"Uh…" he began, but I typed a message and showed it to him.

Do you like hot chocolate?

"Uh, yeah?" he whispered, confused. I nodded, holding him tighter as I looked his father directly in the eye, challenging him to take Butters away from me. He was getting nervous, as most people do when I stare at them.

"Butters! I'm talking to you! You've got some explaining to do, young man!" he yelled, trying desperately to regain control of the situation, "Let go of that boy right now! That is not appropriate behavior!"

Butters shuddered, reluctantly pulling away. "Yes sir." he said sadly.

"Don't you "yes sir" me! You are grounded, mister!" Mr. Stotch barked back, "Come on. We're going home. You've caused the Amsels enough trouble."

"Amsel?" Butters asked, turning back to me, "Your last name is Amsel?" I nodded in confirmation.

Butters sighed, moving to get off the bed. I glared at the two men and, in defiance, grabbed Butters and wrapped my arms around him again, making him shiver.

"Uh, Douchebag?" Butters asked me quietly (not doubt he'd be in even bigger trouble if his father heard my nickname).

Both Butters' father and my own looked like they were about to explode. However, before either one could open his mouth, my mother came in, carrying two cups of hot chocolate.

"Hello there. You must be Butters' father. Pleased to meet you." she said pleasantly, as she always did when talking to strangers.

"What are you doing, dear?" my father asked her, "Who is the hot chocolate for?"

"Oh, it's for Sage and Butters." my mom replied, "I got a text from Sage telling me that he and Butters were cold and wanted some hot chocolate." She handed the cups to me and Butters, who was looking at me, his eyes seeming to sparkle.

"That would explain the cuddling." my father mumbled, glaring at the floor. He didn't like it when I out-witted him. My mother then turned to Butters' father.

"Mr. Stotch, I am very grateful to your son." she began, startling him, "My son had gotten hurt while playing, and your son carried him all the way back here. I can't thank him enough." Butters' father was taken aback, not entirely sure how to handle someone praising his son. However, before he, or my father, could respond, she continued, "However, I do have another request." She then turned back to us, speaking to Butters directly, "Sage is still getting used to this town, and he sometimes has trouble sleeping the first night in a new place." Butters looked at me and I nodded, ignoring my father's comment ("cough*bullshit*cough"). She continued, "If you don't mind, I think it would help if you slept over here tonight."

Everyone in the room, minus my mother and I, went wide-eyed at that request. Butters was speechless. He looked at me and I nodded again, looking at him with pleading eyes. He blinked, then turned back to my mom.

"Sure thing, Mrs. Amsel." he said, much to my relief, before addressing his father, "Please, dad?"

Mr. Stotch seemed to think about it before caving. "Alright, fine, Butters. But make sure you don't cause any trouble or you're grounded."

Butters and I smiled happily at each other and went back to drinking the hot chocolate my mom made. After Butters' father left and we finished our drinks, Butters addressed me.

"So your name is Sage Amsel." he said, and I nodded. "So, can I call you Sage instead of Douchebag?" he asked. I nodded again. He smiled again. Then his expression became serious.

"What is that thing you do with your eyes, anyway?" he asked me, looking at me with a strange intensity.

I flinched, staring down at the covers of my bed. I want to tell him. I really do. But it is forbidden. And even if it weren't, there's no way I could tell him everything. It's too much to type, even on the computer, and writing is out of the question. Unless…

Butters, taking my silence as a refusal, looked down as well and began stammering, "I-I'm sorry, Sage. I j-just wanted to know. You become really strong whenever you use those eyes, but they hurt you, too. I just want to know if there's something I can do to help you if you ever use them again. I mean, when I saw you lying unconscious after your battle with the Bard, I was so scared. I didn't know what to do. I should have been there to help you. Then maybe you wouldn't have had to use those eyes, and then maybe you wouldn't have passed out, and then maybe-"

"I'm sorry."

Butters looked up suddenly, his eyes like dinner plates and his rambling apology stopping completely. At first, I thought he had stopped breathing, but then he managed to stutter, "W-W-What did you say, Sage?"

I looked up at my friend. My precious friend. The little blond who I loved with all my heart. The friend that I loved enough to let him hear my voice. My real voice.

"I said, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for causing you so much pain." I said, the sincerity in my voice scaring even me.

Butters continued to stare at me, speechless. I looked at him, concerned.

"Butters?" I asked uncertainly, waving my hand in front of his face. Suddenly, he pounced on me, strangling me in his excitement.

"You talked! You really talked! You even said my name!" he cried happily, grinning from ear-to-ear.

"Butters…" I gasped, "Can't…breathe…"

He let go, sitting back and letting me up. "Oh gosh. Sorry, Sage. I just thought I'd never hear you talk." He rubbed his knuckles together nervously.

I nodded in understanding. "I don't usually like to show my voice to people. I have to trust someone completely in order for me to speak with them directly. I haven't even spoken to my dad in years."

Butters' eyes began to shine, and I thought he was going to start crying again.

"Butters? Are you okay?" I asked. I did not want to upset him again. Butters looked up at me and smiled, even as tears streamed down his face.

"You…trust me? You really trust me?" When I nodded, he asked, "So you…don't…hate me?"

I looked at him incredulously. "Hate you? Why on earth would I hate you?"

Butters looked down again, shivering as he whimpered, "Well…everyone hates me. Even my parents. Nobody likes me." His shoulders shook with the cries he was desperately trying to hold in.

Unable to take it anymore, I grabbed the blond's shoulders, forcing him to look at me.

"I don't hate you." I told him, putting all the sincerity I had into those words, "You don't deserve hatred. You have shown me nothing but kindness. I have no reason to hate you." As Butters stared at me in shock, I looked down at the bed, my eyes darkening as my voice lowered. "If anything, you're the one who should hate me."

"What?!" Butters cried, looking at me with wide, disbelieving eyes, "Why would I hate you? You let me hang out with you without bossing me around, you put up with my…inappropriate tendencies, and you let me fight by your side, even though I'm not that good of a fighter."

"You're an excellent fighter, Butters." I said, letting go of his arms so I could cross mine, "Recall how many times you've saved my ass."

"Only because you weakened them, first." he replied.

"So I guess that means we make a good team, each of us needing the other." I concluded.

Butters blinked in temporary confusion. "Uh…yeah, I guess we are!" he said, laughing. I smiled, glad to hear some happiness in my friend's voice again. Once his laughter had subsided, Butters looked at me nervously again.

"But…What about what Eric was saying? All the teasing…"

"Means nothing to me." I replied, leaning closer as I whispered in his ear, "Besides, I think he's just jealous."

As expected, Butters turned bright red, stuttering incoherently. I just smirked at his reaction, finding it cute. After a few moments, he finally managed to say something.

"So, uh…you…don't mind?"

"The teasing? Hell no." I replied dismissively.

"No, not that." Butters said, shaking his head, "You don't mind being called my…my..." he trailed off, unable to finish his sentence.

"Boyfriend?" I finished for him. He nodded, turning red again. I knew it.

I leaned forward, looking directly into Butters' eyes. "Do YOU mind me being called your boyfriend?" I asked, never breaking eye contact.

Butters turned a shade that was slightly reminiscent of a tomato, and I felt my face heating up slightly as his eyes darted around the room. He stayed like that for a few minutes, so I let go of him, sitting back against the pillows (I still hadn't fully recovered from the day's events). I was about to apologize when I heard Butters mutter under his breath.

"No…"

I looked at him. "What?"

Butters looked up at me, scooting a little bit closer. "I don't mind you being called my boyfriend." he said quietly, "Actually, I wouldn't mind if…if you…"

"Yes?" I asked, urging him to continue.

He swallowed. "I…I wouldn't mind…if…if you were…" he trailed off again, turning a bright scarlet. I looked like he was going to start crying again, so I finished for him.

"If I really was your boyfriend?" I said, guessing.

Butters looked at me with wide eyes, then nodded as he looked back at the bed, tears flowing freely from his sky-colored eyes. I felt like I was having trouble breathing.

"Does that mean you…like me?" I asked, still not entirely willing to believe it. Butters shook his head.

"I-I don't l-like you, S-Sage…" he whimpered. I felt my heart starting to break, until I heard him say the words I had been wanting to hear from him since the battle at the Giggling Donkey.

"I love you!"

I stared at the little blond in complete astonishment. He buried his face in the covers of my bed, openly sobbing with fear of rejection. I smiled with pure joy.

"I'm sorry, Sage! Please don't hate me!" Butters sobbed, curling up on my bed. I crawled over to him and pulled him up by the arms, making him face me.

"Butters." I said gently, calling his attention back to me.

"Y-Yeah?" he sniffled.

"Well, here goes nothing." I thought, placing my hand behind Butters' head. Then, I pulled him forward, kissing him gently on the lips.

Butters' eyes widened, but he didn't pull away. After a few moments, he closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around my neck, deepening the kiss. I ran my tongue along his bottom lip, requesting entrance, which he happily granted. As our tongues met, I felt Butters moan into the kiss, pressing himself against me as our tongues danced together. I closed my eyes, feeling, for the first time in my life, complete bliss. However, oxygen deprivation meant that the moment couldn't last forever, and we separated, pressing our foreheads together as we caught our breath.

"I love you too, Butters." I said once I had enough air to form words. Butters looked up at me, his expression so loving that my face turned red just by looking at it. He wrapped his arms around me, resting his head on my shoulder as he closed his eyes, a contented smile on his face. I returned the loving embrace, leaning back as I rested my head against his.

"So…does this make us a couple now?" Butters asked, looking up at me.

"Only if you want to be." I replied, meeting his gaze, "Do you want us to be a couple?"

"Oh yes!" Butters replied quickly, "By golly, of course I do!" He then let go of me and sat up so that he was facing me. "But first, can I ask you something?" When I nodded, he continued, "Could you tell me what that weird thing you do with your eyes is?"

I looked up at the ceiling, resting my head on the back of my bed. "I wish I could, Butters. I really do. But I can't. It's complicated, but I'm not allowed to reveal where the sight comes from." Butters nodded in understanding, although he looked disappointed, so I continued, "However, I can tell you this."

That caught his attention. "I have always had the sight, ever since I was born, but it didn't always weaken me the way it does now. The cause of that disadvantage…" I pointed to my left eye. "…lies in this scar. And that's a story I can tell you."

Butters leaned forward, showing that I had his full attention.

"It's not a very pleasant story, but it's one I am free to tell whomever I choose."

And this is how it goes