NoseBridgePinch: Sike, I also update Mondays! Hope I captured the Olive Garden feel, lol. I've been there but I'm from Canada (eh, buddy?) and we don't have them. I also really enjoy writing for Carol, I think she's underrated. Kyle is so the mom of the group, he's compassionate but also has that uptight energy, for sure. And of all people, I feel like Cartman would definitely blab that Kenny is being a hypocrite. ALSO, I have an idea for another South Park fic I've been working on yes! It's based on the recent two-part special they did :)

TriceTokushu: Good to hear you still enjoy it even after a few years of leaving the show! Definitely will be doing an SP fic based on the recent special. Worth the watch in my opinion. If the show wants to give Kenny his own special, I definitely vote for something like this.

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. .

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His body was testing him. His body was just testing him...

It was yet another jab at Kenny to prove he was not a little research project. He had his levels of capability to defeat it, and hey, look at him now. Sitting up perfectly fine in his hospital bed. He'd been put on oxygen supply briefly in the night until doctors came to the conclusion that once his cough passed with added medication drugging him up, he was fine breathing on his own. Kenny stared forward emotionlessly, wearing a hospital gown though his orange coat still hugged his shoulders by choice. He didn't pay attention as a nurse placed a breakfast tray in front of him by the adjusted table for in-bed eating. At the corner of the tray was an added little paper cup with his morning dosage of regular pills.

His doctor remained, looking over his recent examination from when Kenny woke up that morning. After seeing that his heart rate levels remained unwavering despite how badly his cough gripped his body the night before, the doctor chuckled happily. "You sure are a fighter, buddy. Nothing you can't handle, huh?"

Kenny gave no response, not in the mood for jokes.

"Ouch, bad back and neck pains," his doctor read his recent tests from the foot of the bed. "Cough, luckily nothing severe going on with your lungs, so that's good. You keep taking those meds, uh-huh?"

"Mhm."

"We'll talk more with you and your parents, but we have a physical youth center in Denver that helps young patients with similar situations like yours. It has some fun exercises to keep those muscles afloat. Like your physical therapy."

Kenny fell back against the ABS headboard in a stubborn thump. As if he needed another thing added to the list, and of all things probably some boring form of exercise. Lame.

"Something to consider," the doctor put the tests back on its hook of the bed. "For now, you just eat up that food."

The patient looked down at his tray as the doctor left him to it. Well, at least he landed in the hospital on pancake day. They weren't extravagant-like quality ones but they were light, fluffy, and went down easily. He opened the little travel lid of the plate over his pancakes and peeled open the portable syrup container, pouring the stuff all over his pancakes and melon and grapes. He still eyed the untouched meds in their paper cup.

Kenny dug into his fluffy breakfast the meanwhile. Piercing into a pancake with his fork and shoveling it into his mouth. As he did, he peeled off the lid of the little apple juice cup provided and took a small sip. With a swallow, he watched the cup of pills. Deciding to give the routine his ass again.

Popping one in his mouth, he washed it down with apple juice. He stuffed the other in his gown to clean his plate.

Stuart paced across his living room carpet, expecting Carol to have arrived back with the truck minutes ago. She'd already had to grab it for an errand for Kenny before his return, then she was getting a lift to work with a co-worker. It wasn't an issue until Kenny's surprise hospital visit yesterday, and someone needed to go pick him up.

Stuart crossed angered arms, finding a reason to be angry with every passing second by this lollygagging and when the door finally came open with Carol in a rush, her husband faced her bitterly.

"Yours," she said, tossing him the keys.

"Dammit, Carie." Stuart said. "Long ass time for nothin'."

"Ah," his wife warned with a point. "Don' shit on me after everythin' last night."

The mood was low and upsetting enough already. Stuart grabbed his hat from the couch top and flipped it on by its flap, scowling in his walk forward. "Imma go get him."

Her husband passed by her stubbornly as Carol crossed her arms. "He'll be fine."

Stuart clucked loudly.

"Oh, fuck it!" She turned in anger. "Fuck it all then if you wanna be this ignorant!"

"I'm not bein' ignorant!" He yelled. Kenny's emergency send-off yesterday definitely was bringing the worst out of him, reliving haunting memories of what could have been. "He's not gon' be fine after the way you yelled yesterday before he fell on his knees!"

"You sayin' it's my fault?"

"It didn' help!"

She was seeing red with him all fired up at her for no good reason. Carol had to retrace her steps to idealize that it was neither one's fault and she couldn't help but lean against the couch's back in decompressing.

"Sorry.."

"Sorry."

Stuart tossed his keys from palm to palm. "I'll see if he's up for school when I get him."

"Right."

He stopped tossing them, burying them into his pants' pocket. His finger circled the opening before digging in for a bent paper and unfolding it, gaining Carol's attention as Stuart showed her what he'd forgotten to say last night with everything.

"Employment agreement," he said, his wife's face shifting to surprise. "Full-time hours."

Carol stuttered, looking between the paper and her husband. "How soon can ya take it?"

Stuart looked down at the work agreement concerning employee requirements and safety standards of the auto shop. Folding it in two, he tossed it to the empty couch. "Later this week." He said in hope of getting a sense of relief to run through his wife's eyes. When she smiled, so did he.

"Is he still there?"

"No, he got out this morning."

Kyle could see the concern leave Stan by his locker. He wanted to be the first to give him the news based on what Kyle's parents told him just before school. After Kenny's lively symptoms yesterday, an emergency trip to the hospital seemed to add up pretty easily. Kyle wasn't sure how the science worked behind muscular dystrophy, but maybe Kenny's taken remedies yesterday only held him off long enough before he got home.

Cartman approached with his first-period books in hand. "What're you assholes up to?"

"Kenny went to the hospital again."

Cartman blinked, ungracefully hiding any curiosity. "And..?"

"They said he's fine," Kyle said. "A coughing fit or something, he'll be back later today."

"Good," Cartman said, Kyle and Stan looking to him immediately. "I mean..! Kewl."

"So, what should we do?"

Stan closed his locker. "What d'you mean?"

Kyle looked between the two fools before him. "Guys, I don't know about you, but I'm sick and tired of Kenny's new..fits."

"His time of the month will end soon, give it space." Cartman joked blandly.

"You know what I mean," Kyle put forwardly. "I don't need to wait around just for something to happen, again. He doesn't even act like anything happened until he has to."

Stan slanted his lips. "Can you blame him?"

"No, but.." Kyle shrugged poorly. "I don't know, I just don't like how it's..different."

Cartman looked over the two, having to agree with Kyle. A really hot-headed Kenny wasn't much of a fun one Cartman could get along with at all lately. Most of Kenny's outbursts would be directed at Cartman for obvious reasons. The way they just came out of the blue though was getting pretty old. Hell, with every passing cough or muscle stiffening with Kenny, it was a wonder if he'd ever behave the same again. Wasn't the point of him surviving that things should've been better? Not worse.

"What about Mr. Mackey?" Stan wondered.

"What about Mr. Mackey? Not like he's making Kenny any nicer!" Cartman reminded.

"Okay, okay," Kyle eased. "But, if he won't even let us help, why would he tell us.."

The redhead boy drifted off, watching the guidance counselor of the school walk down the hallway in their direction as the little light bulb went off in Kyle's head. "Come on," he encouraged, having the other two follow as he went to stop the adult in his path. "Mr. Mackey? Can we tell you something about Kenny?"

With the final period near an end, Kenny wrote down answers to an in-class worksheet collaboratively with the rest of the students. Mr. Garrison stood up front, going through each question as students raised their hands upon answering that their teacher wrote on the board. Kenny sat in his usual preferred spot at the end. No particular thought on his mind as he chose to let this morning and last night's craziness just be put to rest and wait for another day to come.

It seemed almost normal until the overhead speaker crackled with an upcoming announcement as students looked up from their desks. "Um, yeah, will Kenny McCormick report to the counselor's office, m'kay? Kenny McCormick to the counselor's office."

The called upon boy put his pencil down, considering the request though he knew it probably wasn't much of a choice. He shuffled out of his seat as the class picked up on their work again. He walked to the room's exit, inattentive of a few boys' exchanged stares of confirmation.

Making his way to Mackey's office, which wasn't that far off from the fourth-grade classroom, Kenny turned in on the Student Life Office just outside of it. The secretary gave him the motion of free access, to which Kenny went up the Mackey's door. Knocking gently before turning the knob and poking his head in on the counselor busied with his head looking towards his desktop.

"Mr. Mackey..?"

He looked up upon the muffled call. "Yes, Kenny. Have a seat, m'kay?"

The student took a seat in the usual chair before the counselor's desk. His sessions with Mackey were only on Mondays, so whatever this was definitely wasn't Kenny's idea.

"Did I do something?"

"Not entirely," Mackey assured. "Just wanted to check-in and ask a few things."

"Okay."

Mackey shuffled forward in his chair. "Uh, Kenny, the reason we meet every week is so we can talk and evaluate anything that might be bothering you during this time, m'kay? That's something I wanna do for you, but uh, I can't if you're not telling me the truth."

One of Kenny's brows plucked. Well, personally, he thought he only had to be as open as he was comfortable being. Something of which Kenny might've taken quite a bit advantage of, but how was Mackey all of a sudden knowing this?

"You mind if I ask a few questions?"

"No.."

"M'kay...you ever feel angry, maybe?" Mackey continued.

"I guess," Kenny answered. Seeing as the counselor waited on a little more assured answer, the boy nodded. "Yeah."

"Feel angry at other people?"

"Yeah."

"Ever with yourself...?"

Kenny kept solid in his chair, unaware of his heart's increased beats from the little devil on his shoulder always whispering in his ear. Something he wanted to kill and bury six feet under so no one could ever hear it again. "Yeah."

Mackey nodded. "Uh, see Kenny, sometimes we have to check in even you don't wanna. Well, cuz, if we all just ignored it, it wouldn't be good for anyone."

The student shuffled his wrists, degraded by the monsters in his head yelling at him.

"If you tell me one thing, but behave differently with others, I'm gonna want those people to tell me."

Kenny snapped his head up. "Huh?"

"'Cuz they have the best insight, m'kay?"

He blinked, jaw agape as the wheels turned in his head and he caught on.

"It's not easy when friends see something happening.."

Oh, Christ.

"And they wanna help.."

No, no, no, no.

"So, it's best I know."

Kenny's nails dug into his palms as white-hot anger boiled inside the pit of his chest. His brows furrowed over piercing eyes as his teeth ground together under the borders of his coat. Those absolute fuckers. They were the ones who knew most of all how every adult had been tip-toeing around Kenny since the beginning of all this. Stan had been the one who said himself small talk wasn't gonna help anything. Even Mr. Mackey had his way of treating Kenny with kid gloves despite these 'in-depth' conversations he was supposed to have with him as a counselor. Now the guys his age were tattling on him to the fucking school board!?

They weren't like his parents, huh? They weren't gonna baby him, huh?

The bell went off for the end of the day, and Kenny leaped from his seat. Leaving in the dust.

"Kenny? Kenny!"

"You guys still wanna have the sleepover at my place, next Friday?" Kyle asked, pilling his stuff into his locker and collecting his things to go home. Stan and Cartman stood by in agreeing with their assorted plans.

"Dude, yes," Stan said, clearly enthused. "Get ready to eat shit in Cod, Cartman."

"You'll be sucking on my balls by the end of the night, Stan."

"Bro, gross."

Kyle closed his locker, he nor the others aware of the approaching boy that may as well have been on fire with the way he was ready to explode. "Assholes."

They faced a fuming Kenny behind them.

"Oh, hey dude."

"I can't, fucking, believe you!" Kenny imploded, stirring enough energy to yell and gain a few watching eyes from other hall occupants. "You dickwads were supposed to be different and I actually thought you'd be better, but you had to snitch to Mackey!"

Kyle's brows snapped up, holding two easing hands up. "Okay, Ken, it's not like that."

"And for what!? Afraid I'll go nuts if I don't!?" Kenny held his arms open, keeping his friends worried in the worst stage of anger he's been in yet. Badly enough directed at them. "Is that what this is now!? I was on my way to handling this on my own! On my fucking way! You think I'm too crazy to not know what's good for me?!"

Cartman huffed. "Well, with the way your period moods are now."

"I will kick your ass!" Kenny jabbed a sharp finger to Cartman. Physically willing to do more damage before Kyle and Stan grabbed him as they all brought him along to an emptied classroom nearby, out of sight of the unnecessary onlookers as Cartman closed the door behind them.

"Let me go!"

"Oh my god, dude!" Stan swung Kenny further into the classroom as they released him. "You seriously think we would say anything to Mackey for a reason to mess with you?"

"Doesn't matter why! You did!" Kenny argued. "I'm trynna make things normal for myself! It's bad enough I got Mackey, and my parents, and rainbow-shitting doctors treating me like I don't know what's happening to me! I don't need you guys doing it, too! It's driving me crazy!"

"Kenny, for god's sake!" Kyle interjected worriedly. "We know you know what's happening to you!

"I KNEW I was supposed to die when it happened!"

He shut them up willingly.

"I knew why everyone was smiling!" There was hurt in Kenny's brow now, risking his voice to run hoarse. "I knew what the gifts and visits were for! Then the fucking change in everything when I came back! Talking behind my back like I don't know what's good for me when I'm the one coughing my brains out!"

He had a hard time looking at them with every blow, thinking it wouldn't be so hard to admit how the bombarding of change from everyone over the past two months has hit him in the wrong place of his degrading mental health one too many times, and now he's had it.

"Y'all have no idea what it's like to walk 'round like this!"

A slight snort left the brunette boy's nose. The more Kenny got angry, the more the southern lingo decided to leak through that he sometimes picked up from his parents. Cartman pressed his lips low in an attempted hidden snort.

"What!?"

Cartman rolled his eyes. "God, nothing."

"Everything's so funny to you, huh!? Must've been hilarious when I was dying!"

Stan wasn't believing any of this. "Kenny, what-"

"Shut up, you poverty ass!" Cartman hissed fire. The name-calling gave Kenny all the more reason to beam red in the face. "I did not find it funny! And don't get mad with me when you start spitting your parents' white trash lingo-!"

"They're not trash!" Kenny hicked a hurt tone in his anger, looking to cool off with a sharp turn from the others. He faced the classroom's corner wall with a compressed sigh. Kyle observed, before shooting a fed-up scowl to the friend he had frequent spats with.

"You never know when to stop, don't you fatass?!"

"Don't start with me you Jew-ridden-!"

Kyle's mighty shove to Cartman's front nearly sent the other boy over, though Stan got in between to keep the already hot-red levels down. "Okay, enough!" He bellowed. Keeping the two apart by spread arms, he looked to Kenny. "Kenny we never wanted to make things worst. We just wanna help."

"I don't need any more people trynna assume for me." Kenny blatantly said, his back still turned. "I thought you'd know that."

Stan put down his arms. "Well, it's not like you ever told us. So maybe that's why we did it."

"Bullshit." He snapped as he turned around. "You guys just can't not be involved."

Stan was officially fed up. "Okay, so what? You'd rather we just don't care?"

"Maybe listen when I say I don't need your help!"

"We can't do that!"

"Why!?"

"Because look at yourself!" Kyle wedged in, pointing open palms to Kenny. "You've barely been yourself since the minute you walked back here!"

Kenny thought about all the movies, video games, and pizza. Were those not times they've spent like any regular time before he got sick? When would he have not at least been normal then? Those were times he'd actually enjoy himself just living life before his illness had to get the best of him, again.

"Maybe I'm trying!" Kenny said. "What about the drive-in? What about anything like that?"

"Maybe that was normal too, but-!" Kyle defused like a dying match, steam burning down from his overstimulation. "You can't expect us to ignore when you might be in trouble, again."

Kenny eyed his feet, lost in stubborn thought to think these guys could so much understand a fraction of everything that's happened and is continuing to happen. Not the physical pain, not the shitty clouds clogging his brain, not the change in everyone's interactions with him that made him feel like just an unreal alien.

"And at least I've treated you the most normal," Cartman just had to add unnecessarily.

Kenny growled once again. "God, stop it! Would ya stop with that stupid shit coming from your mouth!?"

He wasn't blind to how they were constantly walking on eggshells around him when things turned worrisome. It wasn't much help to make him not feel like a burden more and more every day. Part of Kenny couldn't help but think he was making it harder, and not just for himself.

If he died, it might've been easier on everybody.

"Friends are meant to be trusted, and I don't trust ANY of you!"

He hit them with the final blow and stormed past them, leaving with a racketing slam of the door. The boys that remained were scattered as they processed the words given by the kid they barely recognized anymore.

To be continued...