The Chat Room Scandal

by 4orny

Cartman's temper spirals out of control and Kyle eventually tries to help him. Kenny can't leave Craig alone and Stan struggles to cope with his own demons. What better way to escape reality than to talk to anonymous people online? Kyman&Crenny

25. Trouble's Coming

The Chatroom Scandal

Chapter Twenty Five - Trouble's Coming

"I can't believe you're just gonna blow me off like that." Kenny sprawled out across the bed with a sulking lip.

"It's three in the morning, you look like you're about to drop dead in front of me and we don't have any lube. I'm sure you can wait." Craig addressed and disappeared into the bathroom.

"Can't we just use, like? I dunno, saliva or something?"

The sarcastic chuckle coming from the other room told him how stupid that suggestion was. "You do realize that never works, right?" After flushing the toilet, he returned. "Saliva isn't a substitute. Either do it properly or don't do it at all. That's why I'm going back to bed."

Kenny could have sworn he heard somewhere that saliva was a good substitute. Either that, or he was watching way too much porn. "Wait, you can't just go to bed?"

"Sure, I can. Watch me." Craig returned to the exact same position he woke up from and pulled the duvet over himself. "See? Now, you try."

"Hey, that ain't what I meant. How can you close your eyes? I travel halfway across the world and all you're giving me the Zs? Wake up, dude, we didn't even get to talk yet."

A shadow appeared over him and he peered an eye open to see Kenny leaning over him. "Sure we did. You turned up at my door, which I'm still pretty spooked about. We made out, had a grind and now we sleep."

Kenny wasn't satisfied with the response. "That... ain't exactly what I had in mind."

"You weren't planning on proposing, were you?" Craig said flatly. Kenny almost missed the joke.

"No way." He pulled back, sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "This all played out better in my head, that's all."

"You planned this out?"

"Yeah, dude. Do you know how long I've been driving for? I had to think about 'summin."

"Okay. So, tell me your version."

"Well..." He dropped down next to him, face to face. "I'm a little embarrassed about it now, but I thought we were gonna talk. You know, about our feelings and shit. And then I was gonna make some moves and then you were gonna make some moves and then we stay up, fucking each other's brains out and we'd fall asleep at like? I dunno? Fucking, 7am and we're exhausted. We're sweaty. We're dirty. Hey, and the rest? Hm, I didn't get that far yet."

Craig admired his creativity. He didn't want to smile, but he did. "You're so stupid. Come here. We can do all that tomorrow." He pushed Kenny back and then draped an arm over him.

"Man, I don't wanna think about driving back tomorrow." Kenny dreaded the thought of mindless driving, but Craig didn't mind it so much.

"I'll be driving right up your ass to keep you company."

Kenny's head relaxed and dropped to the side. His eyelids fell shut. "Ah, I'd like that. Ya know, Craig? I think I really do like your company." He admitted quietly.

Craig mumbled something along the lines of good, I like yours too, and then they both drifted off to sleep within a matter of seconds.

---

Stan woke up with a headache that thumped to the same rhythm as the knocking on his bedroom door. He didn't bother moving, nor did he bother saying anything. He only groaned.

"Get up, Stanley. You've got five minutes to get out of bed, or I'm getting the water!"

Leave me alone.

"Kay." He managed to mumble out and then turned over onto his stomach to fall back into a deep slumber.

...

"STANLEY!"

Stan flinched awake when he heard his mother's voice from the doorway. She had a glass of water in her grasp and Stan threw his hands up in surrender. "Hey, wait, I'm awake! I'm up, I'm getting up!" He shot up from the bed and was greeted with a sudden rush to the head. His vision went fuzzy for a brief second, but he maintained his composure enough to convince his mother that he most certainly did not have a hangover.

"So. How's the hangover?"

He just discovered that she wasn't as stupid as he thought. "What are you talking about, mother? I don't even know what that is. Too young, remember?"

Sharon went to pull an amused smile, but then she remembered how her son was supposed to be taking her seriously. "Oh, you don't? Then explain why there's vomit on the toilet seat?"

"Hey, I cleaned that up!" Stan protested, but when he saw her reaction, he knew he had just been caught out on a lie. He didn't throw up last night. Not in the toilet, at least. But all over the neighbour's lawn. He distinctly remembered seeing Sparky making his way over to next door's backyard, so he ran down the stairs, stumbled out the back door and tumbled over the fence. When he discovered that the Sparky look-alike was actually just a paper bag, the combination of Sharon's prescribed anti-depressants mixed with Randy's prescribed alcohol had caused his stomach to turn and soon enough, he dropped to his knees and like an active volcano, erupted his guts all over the neighbour's lawn. "Oh. Right..."

"Yes, oh." She rose her eyebrows and a look of disappointment crossed her face. "I want forty one dollars on Monday morning."

Stan spent the first few seconds trying to work out what she was talking about. "What? You mean for housekeeping?"

When she confirmed, he questioned why. "Twenty dollars for your usual housekeeping, twenty for your father's whiskey and one dollar for the absurd amount of bleach you've been using to clean up your usual mess in the bathroom."

"But? Mom, that's not-" He tried to protest, but stopped when he realized how reasonable she was being. He bowed his head. "Forty one bucks. You got it."

Not that it was a problem - he could have handed over the money right there and then and all he would need to do is reach under his bed. There was a sense of shame lingering over him now that his mother knew about what he got up to last night.

"I know you've got a lot on your mind, Stan, we all do. Your father, he..." She sighed and shook her head, not understanding the situation with Randy herself. "He has these sudden thoughts and makes decisions on behalf of the family. It's not always right. Most of the time, he's wrong." She admitted with a sympathetic smile. "Just... try not to dwell on it too much, sweetie. If he thinks we're going to start packing our things into boxes, he's got another thing coming. Just focus on getting through these last few months of school. Focus on what's important."

Stan forced a chuckle and thanked her for waking him up. He got changed, brushed his teeth, shoved a dark blue woolly hat over his head, slipped on a brown jacket and left his house to pick up Butters for school.

---

Kenny had the best night's sleep. When he woke, he had the weight of an arm slumped over his stomach and a head was buried into his neck. It wouldn't have been the first time he had woken up with someone wrapped around him, but it felt different this time. Kenny always preferred to bail as soon as he woke up. However, lying there after a short night's sleep with the comfort of a man he kind of liked wrapped around him, gave him a different perspective. He wanted to stay like that forever.

But then he remembered where he was and remembered how long it was going to take to get back. The journey was going to be agonizing for him, considering he couldn't really talk to anyone.

Without wanting to disturb the guy, Kenny eyed up his phone on the nightstand and manoeuvred his arm so very slowly and reached out to grab it.

07:21

Bruh. Kenny glared at the screen and dropped the phone. I can't believe I've only slept for four hours. Death by sleep deprivation? Check that off the list right now, there ain't no way I can spend the whole day driving. Nope, nu-uh. Not happening. He stared at the ceiling and played out the dull scenario of driving for the entire day with dread.

A murmur came from the pillow next to him. "Mmf, time is it?" Craig lifted his head with his eyes half closed.

Kenny didn't want to get up and he didn't want Craig to either. "No idea."

"Liar. I just heard you check your phone."

Worth a shot.

When Craig made a move for the phone, Kenny pushed his arm out of the way and rolled on top of him. "Can we sleep for a little longer?"

Kenny's hair was incredibly unkempt, Craig thought. He ran his hand through the blond hair and it only just occurred to him how short it was. He was starting to miss the length. The shadows under his crinkled eyes were visible. Kenny looked exhausted.

"Sure. One more hour. Then we leave."

A sigh of relief and then Kenny thanked him with a smile. He dropped down and hugged him like a baby koala. "I wish we didn't have to leave."

Craig's arms hung in the air for a moment as he found himself unsure of where to place them. "We don't have to go back."

Kenny disagreed. "Pff, yeah. We do."

"No-one is forcing you." His hands fell and rested on top of Kenny's body.

"We have to go back." Kenny's words were slow as he spoke. "I got responsibility. My sister, my brother. My parents. My friends. Can't just leave."

Craig felt different on the matter. He didn't have responsibility like Kenny did, so he thought. He didn't believe his presence made much of an impact, though his friends would argue otherwise. But Kenny was right. Realistically, they both needed to head back. To run away and start new was just a nice thought, but it just wasn't an option.

"Well, when you put it like that. I got my own shit to deal with too. God, I feel so bad for leaving my sister to look after Stripe. Poor guy. Jeez, what an asshole."

"You're not an asshole, Craig." There was a pause. "Okay, maybe a little. I like it though. Makes you who you are."

Craig waited for Kenny to drift back to sleep, which didn't take long. Unlike him, Craig had a good night's sleep, despite the disruption and so, spent the rest of the hour scrolling through his phone and answering messages. By the time 09:00 hit, they were out the door and heading back to their hometown of South Park.

Kenny was slightly worried about being pulled over. as he certainly was not a legal driver. He didn't exactly have a plan, but the chances of being pulled by a cop was pretty slim. They drove for the entire day, taking breaks each time they filled up at a different gas station. Kenny's truck didn't have the biggest tank and it was a thirsty one at that. Craig used the money from the bag and Kenny swore to pay him back. Craig trusted his word, though it didn't bother him anyway.

They were only a few hundred miles from home, when Kenny decided he couldn't take it anymore. He was craving social interaction.

Zero: hey craig
Zero: how cool is that i can actually say ur name now lol
Zero: craig craig craig
Zero: do i look good from behind?
Zero: i may not be the biggest on the road but u cant deny. i am the baddest

Kenny picked up the phone as soon as it rang in his hands.

"Will you stop messaging me while you're driving?"

"But I'm soo bored." He complained with a childish huff. "Like, really fucking bored. I already did this once and now I gotta do it again? It's bullshit."

"I don't care." Craig brushed off his feelings on the matter. "It's dangerous, so keep your eyes on the road."

"Oof, so cranky. You should loosen up. D'ya want me to help loosen you up?" Kenny couldn't help but smirk playfully.

"No, I want you to get back to South Park in one piece and not be known as the cute kid that died as a result of using his phone while driving."

There was only one thing Kenny took away from that. "Cute, huh? Heh, you really know how to make a guy blush."

There was a brief pause. A moment where Craig had to think about whether he was going to play along or not. "I make a lot of guys blush."

"You're making me blush right now." Kenny peeked at the vehicle behind from the rear view mirror as he confessed proudly, "It must be the sound of your voice. There's something about it that gets me all... hot."

"Jesus, Kenny. Are you flirting with me?"

"Of course, I am." Kenny admitted without shame. He was also amused that Craig had to ask.

"Okay." He said, but then wondered, "Why?"

Kenny chuckled at the lack of the awareness Craig had. "Because I like you? That's what people do, ya know. They flirt. Like, duh. Have you never flirted with anyone before?"

"Nope, not really."

"Wow." Kenny said bluntly. "Somehow I was not expecting that. You wanna try?"

At first, there was a silence. And then a snicker. "Sure, okay."

"Yes." Kenny said with a hint of triumph in his voice. "Okay, so you say something nice first and then me? I will play on it."

"Uh." Craig couldn't think of anything. "You're pretty?" It was a clumsy, yet oddly sweet compliment. But then Craig had to go ahead and ruin it. "Pretty dumb."

Kenny peeked up at his mirror when he choked a laugh. He's got to be fucking with me. He concluded. There was just no way he was taking that comment seriously. Nor was he going to question it. He figured he would work with it instead. "Now that ain't what you were whispering in my ear last night." His cheeks tinted red when he referred back to their short intimate moment. "Something like... you've got a fuckable face? D'ya remember that?"

Of course he remembered. "Am I wrong though?"

"Dunno, you tell me." Kenny quipped back with a shrug.

"Okay. It's true. Your face is nice to look at when it's got my dick in your pretty mouth."

It wasn't what Kenny had in mind, but nevertheless, he liked where it was going. "Holy shit, I asked if you wanted to flirt, but this is straight up dirty talk."

He wasn't sure if he knew the difference, but Craig wasn't completely senseless. He was a little ignorant on the relationship side of things and had virtually zero experience, but he was aware of the difference. "Have you got a problem with that?"

"Well I-" He closed his mouth when he realized how perfectly okay he was with that. "No. I don't have a problem with that at all."

"Good." Craig said simply. "I didn't think you did."

Kenny's cheeky snicker was broken in parts, but alluring to say the least. "You, uh? You wanna pull over?"

"What for?" Craig asked

And then Kenny licked his lips. "My throat. It's a lil dry." He demonstrated by flexing his neck and smoothing over his Adam's apple.

"I put some water in your-" Craig almost forgot about the dirty talk. "Oh." It wasn't such a bad idea. But was Craig going to be the responsible adult and advise they get back to South Park before sundown?

"Sure."

Of course, he wasn't.

---

Friday night

Kenny didn't bother going home. He made his way straight to Stan's house. He felt bad about not coming back to see if he was okay after finding him drunk in his house a few days prior. Stan didn't hold it against him and understood entirely. He was curious about Craig's disappearance, but Kenny kept changing the subject.

After hanging out for an hour, Stan made a phone call to Kyle and they planned to have a belated birthday at Cartman's house. Kenny returned the truck back to his house, only to be told by his sister that Kevin had been out for most of the day. It was nothing out of the ordinary, so Kenny shrugged it off.

They picked up Kyle and made their way over. Cartman hugged his mother goodbye and slipped fifty dollars into her purse when she left to meet Shelia Broflovski and Linda Stotch for dinner. He was always paranoid about his mother leaving the house, but he knew she would be in safe hands. As long as she wasn't hitting the sleazy bars in the old town, she wouldn't get into any trouble.

He made his way down into the basement to find Kyle going through his old CDs, Stan pouring drinks into plastic cups and Kenny wearing one of his mother's dresses that was supposed to be in the pile for the jumble sale. It was a light blue, had thin straps and finished at the knee. The fabric was rough, with several stitched fixes here and there and the style was a little dated. It looked was though Liane had a hard time parting with it. It was two sizes too small, but a perfect fit for Liane's former youth and Cartman was very familiar with the dress. A dress that needed to be destroyed, along with the bad memories that came with it. It was an obvious statement Kenny was making in order to piss Cartman off and it was working.

"Take that shit off, right fucking now."

Kenny must have been deaf, because he had no idea what Cartman was talking about. "Huh? Sorry, ears were kinda blocked. What did ya say, something about an apology, was it?"

The brunette scowled at him. "Take. It. Off."

Kenny grinned back in delight and skipped straight towards him. "You'll have to help me, beautiful." He turned around to show the zip. It didn't quite fit him with all the layers of clothing he was wearing underneath. Stan and Kyle side-eyed each other and then went back to their tasks.

Cartman refused to let Kenny win on this. If the guy wanted to wear his mother's clothing, then so be it. He was not apologizing. "You look like a slut." He walked around and joined his two friends around the coffee table.

Kenny only wore the dress to be annoying and if Cartman wasn't going to bite the bait, he thought to step up his game. To hell with this, I'll just keep wearing it. "I'll take that as a compliment." He joked and Stan handed him a drink. "Thanks."

Kyle held up a CD and shook it. "I found one."

Cartman snatched it and dropped it back into the pile after seeing the front cover. "You've got such a shit taste in music." He picked up a different album and decided that the Beastie Boys was what they were going to listen to. The music was chaotic, nostalgic and that's exactly what everyone needed. Kyle couldn't understand why Cartman asked him to choose something to listen to in the first place if he was just going to go ahead and pick out something completely different anyway.

Kenny crouched down at the table and noticed how much whiskey Stan poured into his cup - almost double than everyone else. He wanted Stan to have a good night for a change and be amongst his friends. However, when he watched how quick Stan chugged his drink, he felt as if he needed to address it. "Fuck me, Stan. Have you got a bus to catch or something? Slow down, this ain't no competition."

Stan swallowed the whole cup and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. The harsh aftertaste didn't seem to be so much of a problem anymore. "I'm thirsty."

"And so am I, now give me one of those." Kyle took the drink from him and gave it a sniff first, before taking a sip and grimacing at the taste. "Gross, there's no way I can stomach that after last time. Got any beer?"

After inserting the CD into his old radio deck, Cartman lifted up a dusty blanket that covered a crate of mixed crafts. He pulled a bottle out and popped the cap.

"Last time? What happened last time?" Stan asked, topping his drink with a little less alcohol this time.

"He got drunk and fell out of a tree." Cartman stated and swapped drinks with Kyle. "It was pretty fucking funny."

Stan laughed into his cup. "Woah, you fell out of a tree?"

"Yeah, where was I when this happened?" Kenny added.

Kyle took a much more pleasant sip and used the cast on his leg as a coaster to settle the bottle on. "It wasn't really that funny."

"Are you kidding? Guys, you should've been there." Cartman shared his attention between Stan and Kenny and told the story like it was the most hilarious incident he had ever seen. He made big hand gestures, acted out the scene in an exaggerated way and elaborated on important details as if he was trying to reach the word limit on an English essay. Just as he hit the punchline of Kyle falling, the room was filled with laughter. All but one. Kyle wanted to suppress his smile at first, but the harder he tried, the bigger it grew.

He threw a couch pillow at the chuckling brunette. "Shut up! That's not what happened. He's over exaggerating." He looked at Stan to try and convince him that Cartman was completely bullshitting, but doing that only added to the laughter. "It didn't go down like that, Cartman and you know it!"

"It's okay to be embarrassed about it." The brunette said as he calmed down. "I mean, shit, I'd be embarrassed too if I couldn't hold my weight."

Kyle's expression fell flat and he mocked a laugh. "Very funny. Ha, ha. I'm laughing, see? Hilarious."

Stan checked the imaginary watch on his wrist and then clapped his hands together. "Oh, would you look at the time? It's shot o'clock. Oh, wait. We don't have any glasses. Cartman? Where the shot glasses at?"

"Threw them out." He replied, too distracted by the CD deck.

"Ah, fuck it. I'll use the visual measuring technique." Stan poured generous amounts of cheap vodka into four plastic cups and handed them around. "A toast?"

"Actually, yes." Kenny jumped to his feet and cleared his throat. "I would like to say a few words." He pulled a hand to his heart and gave his divided attention to each of his friends. "Guys? I love you all equally. I'm very grateful to be here and I couldn't ask for better friends... except for Cartman. He can go and fuck himself." He didn't mean it, but he felt good saying it. He took his shot and Cartman narrowed his eyes.

"My turn." Stan rose his cup. "Happy Birthday, Kenny. Here's to many more and uh? Bottoms up, I guess." He took his shot.

"Yeah, Happy Birthday, buddy. This one's for you." Kyle took his shot.

Cartman hovered a finger over the play button on the old CD player. "Yeah, this one's for Kenny. Kenny? I hate you? You suck? And that's pretty much it. Cheers." He downed the drink and slapped the button. The first song that blared through the speaker was Sabotage. It was the perfect song to start the night with.

---

Kenny's head tilted to the side when Stan had his back to him, trying to light a poorly rolled joint. A sudden thought sprout to mind and he had a case of verbal diarrhoea. "Ya know, if you were taller, you'd kinda look like-" He shook his head when he realized how stupid it sounded. "Ah, no. Never mind."

Stan was either too ignorant or too drunk to pick up on what his friend just told him. "This lighter sucks. Hey, what's the deal with you and Cartman anyways?"

"Uh, wha'dya mean?" Kenny bounced on the spot to keep his blood pumping around his cold body.

"Dunno, I seen him give you the stink eye earlier. You said 'summin, can't remember what, but he was looking at you all weird. Like he was annoyed."

Kenny couldn't go into it. "Nah, he's prolly just on edge. One little thing sets him off these days."

"Welp, at least he hasn't had a bust up with Kyle yet."

"The night is still young, Stan. Here, let me do it." He took the hooka stick and lighter from Stan's hands and tried to spark a flame.

In the basement, Cartman was pushing a cup into Kyle's chest. They were goofing around, but when Kyle refused to take the drink, Cartman's voice dropped into a low, serious tone. "Drink it."

Kyle heaved before he could even bring it to his lips. It was the most unappetising beverage he had ever seen. "Alright, but don't get mad when I throw up all over your floor."

"Whatever, just do it." He rested an elbow on the back of the couch and watched intensely as Kyle closed his eyes tightly and gulped the drink down in intervals. Cartman's eyes averted to the liquid leaking from the corners of his lips. When he was just about finished, Kyle scrunched up the plastic cup and threw it across the room.

"Ha! You owe me-" He felt his stomach drop and his mouth water. "Oh, no."

Cartman launched for the bucket and held it out in front of him. "In the bucket, in the bucket!"

Kyle looked as though he was communicating with his body, begging himself not to bring it all up. He clutched onto his stomach and concentrated on stopping the nausea from taking over. Don't be sick, don't be sick. He pleaded and soon enough, his wish was granted. He pushed the bucket away. "I'm okay now, just'a false alarm."

The brunette discarded the bucket to the floor somewhere. "You wanna smoke?" He asked suddenly.

"Huh? You smoke now?" Kyle asked and watched in a daze when Cartman got up to search through Stan's coat. He pulled out a carton and took one from the pack, before dropping it onto the floor.

"Not really. Only when I'm like, super pissed off? Or drunk."

"You don't look super pissed off right now." Kyle noted.

Cartman stumbled around the room to find something to light it with. He found a box of matches located in a box of his mother's collection of scented candles. "Huh, you're right. I must be pretty drunk then." Propping the cigarette into his mouth, he lit the match and brought the flame to his lips.

Meanwhile, Stan was using his hands to shield the wind from Kenny's lighter. The blond flicked the flint wheel furiously, cussing here and there when he almost had it. He was just about to launch it across the garden when a flame struck. He lowered it to the chamber stuffed with green and sucked the end of the pipe. He took a hit and then passed it over. He made a motion with his hand, gesturing for Stan to hurry up before it went out. It was quite literally, a joint effort.

When Stan took the pipe and took a hit himself, Kenny blew out a huge cloud of smoke. "Fuck, I forgot how harsh that is."

A series of coughs left Stan's throat as he puffed out miniature clouds. He gave the pipe back straight away and Kenny took another hit. By the time it was offered back out to him, Stan had only just recovered. He accepted it anyway. "This kinda feels like I'm smoking crystal meth or something."

"Trust, you'll know when you're smoking crystal." Kenny addressed with a chuckle.

Stan was a little more controlled this time round, but he still struggled to suppress some of the coughing. "You've tried it before?" He assumed and picked up on how restless his friend was being.

"Mhm. Once." said Kenny as he looked to the floor and squished the pebbles on the patio with his feet. "It was a while ago though."

Knowing that Kenny had tried meth shouldn't have been surprising at all, but as his body started to feel the beginning effects of being high, he was interested in knowing more about it. "When was that?"

Kenny's eyes moved to the night sky. It was a clear night tonight, not a cloud in sight. "It was when my uncle passed. Kevin was closer to him than I was and he took the news bad. Real bad. Anyway, found him in the shed, high off his face. He was so out of it, I don't think he even knew what he was doing. I took a few hits and had one of the best nights of my life."

"Shit, seriously?" Stan said in surprise and then started to wonder how different that drug was to the one they were currently smoking. "Is it good then?"

"Yeah, it's pretty good." Kenny admitted, but it was not something he was proud of.

"Then why the hell aren't we smoking that?"

Truth be told, Kenny regretted bringing it up in the first place. It wasn't the best memory and he was supposed to be having fun. He wanted to be honest with Stan, but that came with the harsh reality of remembering what he had to deal with. He never felt so great, so happy, so free. Each of these were a reason why he made the ultimate decision to touch it never again. Not unless he wanted to end up like his brother, a man who was on the verge of turning a dependency into an addiction.

Kenny took the pipe from Stan's limp grasp and brought it to his lips. He pulled out his lighter and flicked the wheel several times before a faint flame appeared. "Cause it's dirty. Addictive. My brother, he-" He stopped and quickly changed the subject when he found himself thinking about memories he would rather put to rest. "Just trust me when I say you ain't missing out."

Stan went to question further, but then something caught his eye, "Er, Kenny?"

---

"Take me to bed." The words fell out of Kyle's mouth so calmly and the emerald's of his eyes glossed over during his dazed state.

Cartman scoffed out a chuckle. "Pff- okay. But do you know how wrong that sounds?"

"Nope, not wrong. You're wrong."

"I didn't mean-" He shook his head and lifted up off the couch. He held out a hand that Kyle could only glare at.

"I can walk." He tried to prove his point by getting up, but his body wouldn't move. Not without struggle. It was as if all of limbs stopped functioning. Cartman rolled his eyes and yanked him by the arm. Naturally, Kyle protested. "Let go of me! I said I can-"

"Blah, blah, blah. Stop being so goddamn moody and let me help. Stubborn ass, Jew."

Kyle found his arm sliding over the brunette's shoulder. He narrowed his eyes. "Have you seen this? This, right here?" He tapped his plastered leg. "It's... BROKEN!"

A look of irritation crossed Cartman's face. "I know."

"How can you expect me NOT to be moody when everytime I want to move, I'm constantly being reminded, oh, yeah! You can't walk! REMEMBER?!"

Kyle's voice was too loud and too slurred for him to be taken seriously. "God, I love it when you get mad."

Kyle already had his mouth open to respond back with angered insults, but he was caught off guard. His brow formed into a puzzled frown. "Hah?"

"Look how flustered you are." His eyes darted to the small red blotches spread across Kyle's cheeks and neck. "Over something I said? I don't even need to try."

"The hell are you talking about?" Kyle mumbled out and hoped Cartman wouldn't press further. As they walked past the kitchen, Kyle pointed over at the window where they could see Stan and Kenny giggling outside. "Hey, why are they outside?"

"Cause they're smoking pot?" Cartman guessed, but then remembered himself. "Yeah, you were there when Kenny was grinding it up."

"Huh." Kyle watched the two from inside, before declaring his need for it. "I wanna smoke pot too." He tried to guide his crutch towards the back door, but Cartman tugged him the other way.

"Nope, not doing that."

"What're you doing? I wanna go outside! I want some a' that sweeet Mary-Jane."

The brunette couldn't help but snicker at the absurdity. "No, sober Kyle wouldn't want to." He continued to tug him along and Kyle's face started to sulk.

"Sober Kyle doesn't know what he's talking about. Sober Kyle can go fuck himself, now let's go! Over there! To the... kitchen. But I want... no." He emphasised that last word like a child that didn't get his own way. "I thought you were fun before. Not now. So boring."

Cartman nudged his arm. "Shut up, will you? You'll thank me in the morning when you've realized you've woken up in my bed and not somewhere on the kitchen floor."

"You're taking me... to your bed?" Kyle looked as though he was going to be sick.

"Sí señor."

"Kinda weird. Why?"

"Because you asked me to? You literally said, Eric Cartman, please will you take me to your bed?"

Kyle stopped hopping and slouched into him, his eyes dropping shut. "I didn't say that. You're... exaggerating again. Always exaggerating."

Cartman stopped him from falling asleep in the middle of the stairway bu nudging him. "Okay, I was just paraphrasing there, but you really did ask me to take you to bed."

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Kyle asked himself the million dollar question. Since when does Eric Cartman do anything I ask? The thought lingered, but his drunken mind had too many questions. "Oh, great. You're not going to rape me are you?"

Cartman snickered at the absurdity of his question. "Not unless you ask nicely. Come on."

He more or less dragged Kyle the rest of the way and the guy was not cooperating with him at all. When they stumbled through to the bedroom, Kyle scanned his surroundings. Cartman's room looked a lot different than he remembered. Come to think of it, Kyle knew exactly when he was last in his room. "I got a blowjob on that bed." He pointed at it like it was an artifact.

Cartman too remembered. He remembered, because he was the one that accidentally walked in on him. "I know, I was there."

"Oh, yeah. I remember seeing your face." He teased softly and hobbled the remaining few steps to the bed. "You were so mad."

Cartman tried not to think about it too much and gave a convincing answer. "You were in my room. Why wouldn't I be pissed off?"

"Nuh-uh." Kyle disagreed while being released. When he dropped down, he forgot to release his hands and so Cartman was yanked down with him. Kyle's eyes remained still, Cartman's became erratic.

When Kyle realized how comfortable he felt, he found his confidence to speak first. "Nice cologne."

Cartman wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. "You like it?" He asked and his muscles suddenly ceased up when Kyle leaned in to sniff the area between his neck and shoulder. He blinked hard and swallowed the lump in his throat. By the time Kyle retrieved back, Cartman couldn't control the drunken, predatory look forming in his eyes.

When Kyle saw that lustful look cross his face, he smiled softly. "Mine's better."

Kyle was a few drinks ahead of Cartman, probably due to how miserable his injuries were making him and he wasn't afraid of expressing it to his friends. Cartman wasn't a pitiful guy and Kyle was no exception. Each time he was heard complaining, Cartman quipped back with his usual insults. Something along the lines of, alright, we get it! Your leg is broken, yadda, yadda, yadda. Want me to call the make a wish foundation and get Ed Sheeran to sing you a goddamn lullaby? Shut up already! Kyle was grateful for it. Their bickering was a way for him to release the frustation as a result from the attack.

Despite how awkward it was going to feel in the morning, it didn't seem that way in those moments they shared that night.

Kyle's head dropped to the mattress and his eyes fell into a hooded gaze. "Aren't you gonna tell me I'm wrong?"

"I don't need to. Can smell you from here." He pulled away as soon as he felt a stir in his groin. Kyle's arm moved on its own accord when Cartman withdrew back. It reached out and clamped onto the brunette's forearm.

This time, Cartman snatched his arm back in defence. Things were getting too weird. "Why are you acting like this?"

"Like what?" Kyle sighed, though his sober self would have understood the question perfectly.

Cartman thought about how he could put it into words. He didn't want to be too blunt, because he was afraid of what Kyle would come back with. He picked out the only word he could describe it as, "Clingy."

If a word could sober a man up, that may have been it. "Clingy?!"

His reaction poured an amused smirk to spread across Cartman's lips. "You're clawing at me like my goddamn cat. What is it, are you in heat or something?"

Kyle was totally mortified. He let go immediately, as if he had just touched a piece of wet food from the bottom of the sink. "What the fuck?!"

Cartman shook his head to rid the sexual undertones to what slipped from his mouth. "But anyway, you need anything? Water? A bucket?"

The redhead was still thinking about that previous comment. He furrowed his brow and posed a perplexed look. His head felt heavy and his vision went fuzzy. It was hard to see as there was not much light in the room. That being said, Cartman's sillouitte seemed to have a glow in the darkness of his room. Like a moth to a flame - or in this case, a highly intoxicated moth - Kyle found himself being emotionally pulled into him. "No, but... where're you sleeping?"

He looked around his room to see what was appropriate. He hadn't thought that far. His eyes rested upon his bed before settling back on his auburn friend. "The couch?" It was supposed to be a statement, but it sounded more like a question. He knew he couldn't share a bed. Not with Kyle.

There was a short snicker. "Just stay here, idiot." Kyle said, shuffling around to get his leg into a comfortable position.

Kyle was persuasive, but it wasn't enough. "I can't."

"Why not?"

His questions were making Cartman snappy. "I just can't, okay? Look, I'll be downstairs."

"You can't go down there." Kyle said quickly. "What if I need to use the bathroom?"

Cartman could have sworn he just heard him stutter. He shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno, just call me?"

Kyle pulled out his phone and tossed it over to him. "Phone's dead."

Kyle believed he wasn't trying to make excuses to get him to stay, although it was certainly looking that way. He was so used to having Cartman around, that he was becoming accustomed to having him as a first call for help.

The brunette dropped the phone somewhere on his dresser and turned towards the door. He weighed up his options and debated the best option. The safest option. He knew he was going to regret his decision either way, so he decided to move towards the door and close it. When he turned back around, Kyle was laying on his side with his head buried in the crook of his arm. He was out cold.

---

"Er, Kenny?" Stan said.

"Er, Stan?" Kenny mocked.

"Is it me? Or is that somebody watching us over there?" Stan nodded to something in the distance.

The blond turned to match where Stan's eyes were looking. He squinted and just when he thought he saw a short and stocky man standing by the gate, it turned out to be a...

"Dude, that's a trashcan."

"That ain't no trashcan." Stan was sure of it. "Oh my fucking god, we're being watched."

"It's a trashcan, my guy." Kenny proved his point by walking over to it.

"What're you doing, are you crazy?! Kenny, get back here. Psst! Kenny!"

Kenny wasn't sure why Stan started whispering, but he made his way over to the gate and debunked his paranoid driven theory by shaking the can. "See?! Ain't no-one watching us, Stan."

Stan was cautious, but felt relieved when he realized himself. Still, after hearing about what happened to Butters, it had him perminantly spooked and all of a sudden, he didn't want to stay at Cartman's anymore. "Wanna go to Redd's house?"

The suggestion was totally random and Kenny found himself going along with it. "Sure. Why?"

"Butters told me, that Heidi told him, that Redd told her, she's having a party at her dad's house. You wanna go?"

It took a second for Kenny to work that out. He shrugged and lead the way out of the backyard. "A party, huh? We walking or driving?"

"Fuck it, let's walk." Stan decided and they left the house of Cartman to find the house of Redd's father.

It took them longer than it should have, mostly because they couldn't remember the way. By the time they got there, it was past 1AM. They climbed over the fence and then darted across the lawn when they found out they were in the neighbours yard. They found the right house and then decided to split when Stan caught sight of Wendy, leaving Kenny to wander around the busy house by himself.

"McCormick?" The voice was louder than usual, but it sent a shiver down his spine.

Kenny turned around to see a dazed Craig making his way towards him. His face lit up upon seeing his presence. "Tucker." He responded with a sigh.

"Am I tripping right now, or is that really you standing there?"

"Jesus, how high are you?"

"Yes." Craig said and gripped Kenny's wrist. "Come with me." He pulled him along the busy hallway, through to the messy kitchen and finally left via the backdoor. Kenny was on a bit of a comedown. The buzz he had an hour ago had gone and the tiredness was starting to set in, so it was a good thing that Craig turned around with a perfectly rolled joint settled between his fingers. "Open your mouth."

Kenny didn't question it. His mouth parted. Craig watched those lips close around the stick of green and his thumb rubbed alone the bottom of the blond's lip before he brought forth the lighter. When it lit, Kenny sucked in the drug.

"Have you eaten yet?" Craig wondered.

Kenny shrugged. "Shared a bag of chips with Stan earlier."

"Sounds... nutritional."

"You're telling me! I went to Cartman's house when we got back. Long story short, he's still pissed at me. Decided, he ain't gonna feed me. Bullcrap, right? So what did me and Stan decide to do? We raid his kitchen. Didn't find much, surprisingly. But I've eaten, so I'm fine. I'll prolly puke it all back up in the morning anyway."

Craig was half listening. He picked up on the main points, like Cartman being annoyed at him and that he had something to eat, but apart from that, his mind had gone wondering into a world of its own. He didn't take his eyes off Kenny as he rambled on about some kind of fued he was having with Eric Cartman.

"-I mean, it ain't like I wanted to, it just sorta happened, ya know? Not my fault he can't control his emotions. But anyway, here." He held out the joint, but Craig passed it off.

"I can't, I'm supposed to be driving Clyde and Bebe home tonight. If I do anymore, I'll be too stoned to function. And then I won't be able to drive."

Kenny couldn't imagine Craig being that stoned. "Huh. Really?"

"Nope. And don't even think about it." Craig asserted and this only brought out Kenny's cheeky behaviour.

He flipped the stick and insisted he took it. "Just a lil. One puff? You know you want to."

Craig stepped back, shaking his head. "No, I need to sober up."

Playing hard to get, are we? Sure, I'll play along. Kenny told himself and put on his best persuasive voice. "Fuck being sober, just take a hit with me. What's one hit gonna do?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No." Craig rejected the offer again, but found himself being manipulated into it. He took the joint and started to smoke it. "I hate you."

Kenny almost fist pumped the air to congratulate himself. Instead, he leaned onto his tippy toes and planted a peck to his cheek. When he pulled back, Craig had a look of surprise. "Sorry, I just couldn't resist. When you're standing there looking all... tasty and shit, I just can't help myself." His big smile said it all and if he wasn't mistaken, he was sure he saw the tips of Craig's cheeks flush.

"Ah, sorry. Can we do that stuff yet?"

Craig wasn't sure whether he was ready for that sort of affection yet. "No. I mean, yes. I mean... I don't know?"

Kenny's lips pulled into a grin. "Are you blushing?"

He was truly offended by that accusation. "What a stupid thing to say, no I am not blushing. And even if I was, which I'm not, why would you say that? It just makes the person blush harder. Which I'm not, by the way. At all."

Craig's reaction told Kenny otherwise. "Fuck, you are so blushing right now. I can see it, right here." He went to reach out and touch his cheek, but a hand slapped him away.

"Get your diseased fingers away from me. Stop it, Kenny." He shooed the hand again. "Stop."

Kenny reached out again, "I don't wanna stop."

Craig stepped back, shooing the hand. But then he was shooing away two hands and protesting. Within seconds, he abandoned the joint and his hands found themselves mapping around the blond's body. Kenny kissed him passionately, like he was desperate for it. Craig kept pacing backwards, as if they were heading somewhere. When his back hit the brick wall, Kenny's hands started to fumble with the hem of his jeans.

"Let's fuck here. Right here in the open. Wouldn't that be fun?"

"You're crazy." Craig mumbled into his mouth and allowed Kenny to slip his hand beneath.

"Ya know? I feel like you're getting taller. Are you getting taller?" He suddenly noticed, leaning back and inspecting him.

Craig wasn't interested in Kenny's random questions right now. "Shut up." He demanded and let out a sigh when the hand gave a firm squeeze through his boxers. Kenny abandoned his mouth and started to talk quietly, right into his ear.

"You want me to talk dirty to you?" When there was no response, he continued to mutter inappropriate things into his ear.

"Kenny." Craig's voice was soft.

"And then after that, I'll let you turn me around-" Kenny stopped when he was interrupted by a familiar voice yelling around the corner.

"Why aren't you getting it?!"

He pulled back so that he could pay attention to that very familiar voice growing louder.

"What? And you think that's an okay thing to do now? Shall we go around and ask? Great idea! Let's ask everybody! Hey, everybody?! Wendy here thinks it's okay to cheat! Well, its not exactly cheating, but it kinda is, because she was already in another relationship while she was still with me! But that's okay, right? Because Tolkien's a nice guy. He can do whatever the fuck he wants, because he's a real nice guy, am I right?!"

They both pulled away and froze when they made eye contact with each other.

"Well fuck you for being a nice guy. You hear that? Fuck you, TOE KEN." He made sure to put extra emphasis on the mispronounced name, just to cause as much offence as possible.

Kenny and Craig emerged from the corner in an instant. Stan was having a shouting match on his own, with Tolkien, Wendy and a few others present. Stan looked more like the aggressor and Tolkien was clearly on the defence. His hands were up in an attempt to calm Stan down.

"Stan, you're drunk. Let me take you home." Tolkien tried to reach out, but his hand was slapped away.

"Don't you goddamn touch me. And I'm not drunk, actually. I'm just high as fuck." He pointed his pinky and index finger at them both. "Have you both ever been high as fuck? Of course you haven't, because you're both so fucking square!"

"He better not." Craig warned as they approached.

"He won't. Believe me, Stan doesn't like violence."

Craig had already made up his mind. "Don't care. I don't trust him."

"Well he's my friend, not yours and I trust him. So that means you've gotta trust him too, because you trust me." Kenny argued.

"Who says I trust you?"

Kenny came to a halt and grabbed onto Craig's arm to stop him too. "Please tell me that was a joke." And if it was, he didn't see the humour behind it. In fact, he took it seriously.

Craig opened his mouth to say something, but Stan's loud voice interrupted them. "Oh, look! It's Craig motherfucking Tucker. This fucking asshole." Stan muttered when he caught sight of him. "Guy claims he looves animals, but is totally fine with his best buddy killing my dog! Yeah, like I forgot about that."

Craig didn't take kindly to that. "What did he just say?"

"Uh, yep. That ain't the weed talking. That's the drink. Catch ya later?" Kenny leapt forward and started to pull Stan away from the scene. "Come on, Stan. It ain't worth it, you know this."

"It's okay, Kenny. Let him get it out of his system." Tolkien assured, but that only annoyed Stan even more.

"It's okay, Kenny. Let him get it out of his-" Stan said in mockery and shook his head before he could even finish quoting it. He turned to Kenny and spoke directly to him. "You see what I mean? Now, that's the kind of patronizing bullshit I was talking about. You see it, Kenny. I know you do."

"You're right, you're right. You're totally right." He humoured him for now and continued to tug him along. Stan came quietly, but complained the entire time. Just before they turned the corner, Kenny looked back and threw a sad wave goodbye. He wasn't expecting Craig to return the gesture, but his heart flipped when he did.

"We aren't being friends with those assholes anymore. From now on, we stick to our own." Stan then started to ramble on about all of the qualities he hated about Tolkien and those guys. But mostly, it was about Tolkien.

Meanwhile, Kenny couldn't stop thinking about Craig's comment. Was that another one of his lame jokes? It's gotta be. He does trust me, right? He was almost lost in deep thought, but then as they made their way to the front lawn, they could hear some kind of commotion going on from a few houses down. Loud voices echoed the street to the point where even Stan had stopped in mid-ramble to see what was going on.

They both exchanged glances and jogged over to get a closer look. Just when they could see faces, Kenny came to an abrupt halt and threw an arm out to block Stan from going any further. "That don't sound good."

"How do you-" Stan went to say but was interrupted by a gunshot.

"Fuck, get down!" Kenny immediately dived into a nearby bush, pulling his friend with him. Their heads peeked above the plant and they watched from afar as a series of screams alerted the entire neighbourhood. Several men and women ran from the scene, including one in particular, running to his vehicle.

"Wait a second." Kenny stood up and jumped back over the bush to get a better look. He ran into the middle of the road just to make sure he knew it was real. The man wasn't aware of his presence as he was too preoccupied fleeing from the scene. When he got a clear view of the man's face, Kenny was like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Hey, Diego! Wait up!" A another man called out. Kenny didn't recognize that one. Or the high pitch voice of a young lady that came after. "Wait for us!"

He stared with his eyes as wide as saucers and they all threw themselves into the vehicle. Although his mind was in absolute awe, he whispered out the license plate on repeat. When he felt Stan tug his arm, he responded fast. "Your phone. Give me your phone."

Stan was totally confused, but didn't question it. He fished for his phone and Kenny snatched it off him. He sent himself a text and then handed it back to his friend.

"We better go." Kenny's tone was serious and he turned to start walking in the opposite direction. His stuffed his hands into his pockets and scrunched a frown when he thought about the face he just saw. Stan lagged behind, wondering what the hell just happened.

---

Saturday Morning

Kenny woke up with Craig's hand covering his face. Only, it wasn't actually Craig's hand. It was Stan's hand. But Kenny didn't know that, because his brain thought he had just woken up in the same warm, super comfortable bed that he slept in the night before. He smoothed the hand tenderly, moved it away from his mouth and then turned on his side. When his eyes flickered open, he came face to face with a sleeping Craig.

Except, it still wasn't Craig. It was Stan. And Kenny had just about remembered where he was.

He freaked out.

When he yelled, he made himself flinch. The sound of his own shriek sent him flying back and tumbling to the floor. Stan woke up yelling too, as a reaction to Kenny screaming in his face for no apparent reason. "YAH! HEY, WHAT?! What the fuck?! What's going on?! Kenny?" He rushed to the side of the bed where he saw Kenny on the floor, rubbing his sore head.

"Heh, sorry." He smiled sheepishly and almost very awkwardly.

"The hell happened? Are you okay? Why were you screaming for?" Stan held out his hand and when Kenny grabbed it, he was pulled back onto the bed.

"Fuck, I am real sorry about that, Stan. Had a horrible... nightmare." He rubbed the side of his neck and sat up straight, a foot dangling off the bed. "Like one of those... big ones. One of those, oh my god, I cannot believe that just happened and I would rather kill myself than relive that moment ever again. Ya know?"

Stan scratched the back of his ear as he thought about it. "I get those. All the time. I don't wake up screaming though, that's kinda funny."

He waved a hand and made a noise of disgust. "Egh, don't embarrass me."

They exchanged each other's versions of events from last night and laughed about the craziness of it all. Stan got changed and went down to start his toast duty and Kenny took advantage of the hot water. They reunited in the kitchen, where Kenny sat on the counter top finishing his breakfast.

"So... today is Saturday. What're we doing?" He said, biting into the crust of his buttered, but slightly raw toast.

The question struck something in Stan. He's asking me? The surprise was clearly written all over his face. "We go back to Cartman's and... tell them what happened?"

Kenny didn't take it as a question. He took it as an answer. "Good idea. When are we leaving?"

Stan found himself taking charge. "We'll head out in twenty minutes. I need to take a shower and give Sparky his-" He paused to look over at the empty dog bowl. His eyes lowered. "I need to stop doing that." He reminded himself.

Kenny's eyes flashed between Stan and the red bowl on the floor. He could how Sparky's missing presence was affecting him and his morning routine. It was sad to see. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

"No." Stan said quickly with a frown. "I'm fine, I just forgot. I'm taking a shower. Hey, when you're finished with that, do you mind washing it up? My mom's been on my case lately and not gonna lie, it's been kind of annoying."

"Hey, at least she cares, right? My mom? When she ain't high off her tits or drunk outta her mind, she can be like that too. I kinda like it. Makes me feel like I have a reason to do something."

Stan hadn't though about it that way before. Knowing who Kenny's mother was, he felt grateful that his mom wasn't like that. He found the nearest pen and scribbled down the words BUY MOM FLOWERS, before taking it upstairs with him.

---

Cartman woke up on the couch. He spent the remainder of the night battling against the annoying hurdle of insomnia and it sobered him up pretty quickly. He couldn't remember much of it. One minute he was staring at the ceiling with Kyle's breath hitting his face and the next, he was jacking off in the bathroom. He couldn't bring himself to lay back down next to him, so he made the humiliating decision to sleep downstairs.

He knew he was going to have to face Kyle at some point, he just didn't want to. Not right now, at least.

Coincidentally, his phone started to vibrate. It was Kyle.

"What do you want?" Cartman's tone was moody and snappy.

"Get up here." Kyle's voice was tired and groggy.

"What?" He rudely said.

"Bathroom... ew, and a toothbrush."

Cartman rolled his eyes and hung up the phone abruptly. He ran a hand down his face and then stood up from the couch. The lack of sleep was really starting to affect him to the point where if he rubbed them any harder, they were going to dry up. He made his way upstairs and entered his own room with hesitation.

Kyle was sitting up. His hair was a mess, his eyes were dull and... of course, he wasn't wearing any pants. Cartman was on the brink of blowing up. Someone had to have been punishing him.

"Hey." Kyle greeted calmly.

"Don't you know how rude it is to wake a guy when he's sleeping?" He spoke through a clenched jaw. But then he realized something. "Wait a second. Didn't you say your phone was dead?"

Kyle's expression formed into a puzzled frown. "No? I'm on thirty eight percent." He showed the screen.

That's definitely not what you said to me last night. Cartman resisted the urge to say it. He made his way over and offered out his hand. Kyle felt slow and relatively fragile with the hangover kicking in, but Cartman pulled him up with ease.

Kyle hissed out in pain when he felt something sharp strike into his stomach. He shot a hand up to the wound. "Ah, shit."

"What is it?"

Kyle lifted up his t-shirt to reveal a messy dressing. It desperately needed changing.

Cartman was very opinionated on the matter. "Honestly? That looks nasty as fuck."

"No shit, it looks nasty. Is that? Is that beer?" He wiped the stain with his fingers and to his surprise, it was damp. "Motherfucker. I bet that was Stan. Do I recall him spilling his drink all over me at one point?"

Cartman was a guy that knew no shame. "Yeah, no. That was me."

"That was you?" Knowing Cartman was the culprit somehow irritated him more. "You stupid asshole, why did you do that for?"

"Um? It was an accident?" Cartman defended.

"You do know this can get infected, right? Like, if this got septic, I could potentially die." He said, rubbing his fingers on his dirty t-shirt.

Cartman's brow furrowed into an agitated frown and he released his arms. Kyle dropped onto the bed with a sudden force and by the time he looked up to see why he had just been thrown down like that, Cartman was walking away. "I'll be back." He said with an angry huff.

A few minutes later, he returned with a towel under his arm. Kyle was giving him that same annoyed and sceptical look he always did whenever Cartman was doing something he hadn't seen him do before. It was like Kyle was expecting something bad to follow. Or a catch. Certainly not doing things from the goodness of his heart.

"Get up." He said firmly as he grabbed onto Kyle's arm and forced him to stand up. It wouldn't have been a trip to the bathroom without Kyle complaining the entire time and Cartman just about had enough of listening to it.

"Will you shut up about you fucking leg already?" He made an effort to keep his voice down, not wanting to wake his mother. "You should be loving this right now. Having someone wait on you hand and foot like this? Are you kidding me? Give me a broken leg, dawg. I'm actually so envious of you right now?"

"Yeah, and that's what makes us totally different." Kyle grabbed onto the bathroom sink and rested up against it while Cartman moved around him. "I don't want to depend on people. I hate it. I like doing things my way and not having my mother watch over me like a fucking hawk. You watch, I'll get back later and she'll be acting like I've been missing for a week."

Cartman was kneeling by the bathtub, checking to make sure the temperature was a nice medium. "I so wanna comment on that, but the last time I did, I got bruised balls." He stood up and threw the towel over.

"Wait, is that for me?" Kyle questioned, pointing to the tub.

"Yup. Don't say I don't do anything for you." He started to leave.

Kyle had just been presented a huge problem. "No, wait-" He went to reach out, but withdrew his hand immediately when Cartman turned back to look at him. He was aware of Kyle's hesitation. "Uhm? Yeah, I can't get in that."

The brunette blinked and asked dully, "Why not?"

Kyle threw a hand at the running bath. "How do you expect me to bend down?"

Cartman couldn't see the problem. "Like this." He demonstrated a single, one-legged squat. He shrugged and looked at him expectedly.

"Okay, smartass. You're helping me." Kyle concluded and started to pull at the hem of his t-shirt.

The brunette's eyes widened when he saw the pale skin of Kyle's stomach appear. In a heat of panic, his eyes turned elsewhere and they darted around the floor, trying to search for a way out of a situation he was going to have trouble controlling. Kyle paid no attention to his erratic behaviour at first, but when he asked for help getting to the bath, he knew Cartman well enough to know something was going on with him.

Bail. Just bail. Don't even think about it. But I am thinking about it. Look, can't you just be fucking normal for once?!

"Hey."

"What?" Cartman spat as he turned to look. His scrunched up expression softened into pity when he saw the grazes and multi-colored bruises scattered across his body. The healing gash was exposed and the dirty dressings were folded neatly into a pile next to the sink.

He felt terrible. His eyes wouldn't leave his broken abdomen.

"It's really not as bad as it looks." Kyle tried to reassure, but Cartman could see through the lie.

"Like I'm gonna believe that. You really don't need to lie to me. Shit looks painful as hell."

There was a small, unconvincing chuckle. "I'm not lying."

Cartman nodded to the wounds. "Bullshit. I know when you're lying."

Kyle didn't like the sound of being analysed like that. He dropped his head, but his eyes remained fixed on the man that was accusing him of the truth. He felt defensive. "And how would you know that?"

"Because I-" He ran both hands down his face and tried to control his frustration by sighing loudly. "Look, are you gonna get in or are we just gonna keep standing here with our dicks hanging out?"

Kyle looked down at himself. He was still wearing his boxers. He then felt stupid for realizing Cartman meant it as a figure of speech. "Whatever, man. Just keep your comments to yourself? Like this isn't awkward enough as it is."

He wrapped an arm around Cartman's shoulder and hopped his way over to the bathtub. He somehow managed to rip a sock off and then he skimmed off his underwear and all the while, Cartman kept telling himself not to pay attention.

Nope, not looking.

He was certainly not fighting the urge the peek. He had absolutely no reason to.

Fuck, I'm looking. He made the effort to turn his head the other way completely this time to stop himself from accidentally looking when Kyle hopped into the bathtub. With his head still looking the other way, he lowered Kyle down and only turned back when he knew he was fully submerged from the waist down. The soapy water was the barrier he needed to stop his eyes from wandering any further.

Kyle plopped his plastered leg on the edge of the tub so it wouldn't get wet and he rested his fractured arm up against the tiled wall. The pain from his injuries were starting to flare back up, which meant he was going to need medication to ease the pain sometime soon.

"Thanks. I mean, I'm more of a shower guy, but it looks like I won't be having one of those for a while." The warmth of the water was a sting at first and the color of the water soon changed from a soapy clear, to a murky cloud.

"Baths are supposed to be good for you." Cartman argued and moved to the sink so he could start his morning routine of brushing his teeth.

"How is sitting in a pool of your own filth supposed to be good for you?"

He picked up the toothpaste and made gestures with his hands. "Because it's relaxing. Detoxes all the bad shit from your body and cleanses the mind."

Kyle dropped his head onto the tiled wall and observed the bath water. He quickly came to a conclusion. "Kinda gay, if you ask me."

Cartman shot him an offended look through the mirror. "It's not gay. It's a proven fact that it kills all of the bacteria on your skin and helps with immunity, so if anything, you're the gay one for having a weaker immune system than me."

"Oh, really?" Kyle wasn't convinced.

"Oh, yeah, really." Cartman was totally convinced.

"And where did you read that from?"

He propped the toothbrush into his mouth and said after a think, "Reddit." before watching himself clean his teeth through the mirror. He was an aggressive brusher, so it seemed to be for Kyle, who was also watching.

Kyle maintained his poker face. "Sounds pretty gay to me, dude."

Cartman flashed a narrowed glare through the mirror and then spat out the toothpaste after a minute of scrubbing. He drew close into the mirror, inspected his teeth and then found interest in the mess on top of his head. Thick, brown chunks stuck out from the sides, so he flattened them down and then slid his hands into his hair. He shook and styled it to how he preferred, which looked oddly different to usual, Kyle believed. It was more neutral, with almost zero personality to it. He couldn't believe how casual he looked.

And then he caught site of the blue container sitting beside the toothbrush holder. It was hair product.

Of course.

---

Later that morning, Kyle was sat at the kitchen table, munching his way through a bowl of cereal and Cartman was at the stove, flipping bacon. He was just about finished cooking, when the back door flew open.

A hanging Stan was the first to enter, followed by a tired Kenny.

"Hey." Stan threw a nod at Kyle and then pulled a seat opposite. "How're you feeling?"

While the two muttered in conversation, Kenny had his eyes set on Cartman. More specifically, what he had in his hands.

"Awh, you really shouldn't have, babe." He went to take a bite of his sandwich, but his teeth met with air. Cartman was too quick and snatched his hands away.

"Suck my cock and maybe I'll leave you the scraps." He took an obnoxiously big bite and walked right past him. He then joined Stan and Kyle at the table.

When Cartman sat down next to him, Stan gagged into the palm of his hand. He could barely stomach the smell of food, let alone the look of it. Kenny took the chair opposite the brunette and eyed up his breakfast like a starving dog.

The four of them sat there, silently reflecting on the night before. After several moments, Kyle clanked his spoon against the bowl and pushed it away. "Cereal is a little stale."

"Yep, it's been there a while." Cartman addressed. "My mom had a craving for Cheerioes a few weeks back. I kinda just left the box in there."

"I don't know why, but I can't imagine your mom eating Cheerios." Stan noted and took a sip from Kyle's glass.

"Why are you imagining his mom eating Cheerios?" Kyle pointed out.

"No, but that's what I'm saying. I can't imagine his mom sitting there at the table, eating spoonfuls after spoonfuls of Cheerios." Stan argued his point as best as he could, but Kyle was quick to debunk his logic.

"But that doesn't make any logical sense. You must be imagining it, because you're trying so purposely hard not to imagine it. So, what you're really saying is, I am imagining it, but I wish I didn't have to."

Stan dropped the glass back into Kyle's table space. "Dude, shut up." He dropped his head into his hand to give his eyes a rub.

"So," Kenny said, changing the subject. "did you two have a good night?"

"Yep." Kyle said.

"Amazing." Cartman added flatly.

"Did you do anything... different?" He was talking directly to one person.

Cartman made eye contact with him. His glare narrowed. "What do you mean by that, Kenny?"

"No idea. Hey, listen." He changed the subject again. "Me and Stan gotta tell you guys something."

"You're pregnant?" Kyle suggested.

"Uhm... I dunno, Stan? Are we pregnant?" Kenny turned to Stan, but then snickered. "Nah, just kidding. Look, I don't really know how it happened, but we ended up at Redd's house last night. We didn't stay for very long, because someone decided to cause a scene."

"I wasn't causing a scene, Kenny."

"You were causing a scene." The blond assured.

Stan was too embarrased to admit it. "No, I wasn't. Anyway, how do you expect me to react when my ex-girlfriend, who only just broke up with me, has got her tongue down some other guy's neck?"

"Are you guys talking about Tolkien?" Kyle asked.

"Yeah. I'm sorry, okay? I just can't stand to look at them together like that. Call me asshole, I don't care. It fucking sucks and I'm gonna let the world know about it."

"You don't need to be sorry, Stan." Kenny addressed. "It takes time to move on. You've gotta give it time, but it gets better eventually."

"That's the biggest load of bullshit I ever did hear." Cartman swallowed his food and settled his healf eaten sandwich down. "Don't listen to this philosophical ass-wipe. The bottom line? She cheated on you. You're angry. So be angry. If you sit back and let it happen, you'll turn into a cuck. Do you really wanna be a cuck, Stan?"

Stan thought about that advice. However, Kenny was on the opposite end and disagreed with that completely. "It ain't about being a cuck. It's about being the bigger man and knowing when to pick your battles. Violence ain't the answer to every single thing that goes wrong in your life."

Just when Stan thought Cartman was right, Kenny held up a good counter argument. He wasn't sure whose advice to take. He looked at Kyle for his input.

Kyle tried giving a diplomatic approach. "Personally? If I didn't wanna see something, I would just avoid being there. And if I did end up seeing it? It'll hurt, yeah. But I would tell them how I feel and then leave."

"No, you wouldn't?" Cartman called out the hypocrisy straight away. "You would act the same as I would. You'd get in his face, you'd give him the biggest sucker punch of his life and you'd walk away feeling completely satisfied."

Kyle became annoyed by that. Annoyed, because it was true. "No, that's just you. We aren't all aggressive animals like you."

"We're guys. Of course, we are. It's called testosterone? Violence is literally written in our DNA. There are two types of guys out there: those that are men and those that are cucks." He nudged his friend and picked up his sandwich. "Stan, d'ya really wanna be labelled as a cuck?"

"No, not really."

"Exactly. I rest my case." He concluded and took a bite.

"Don't listen to him, he doesn't have a clue what he's talking about." Kyle felt like he lost the battle, but continued to try and convince Stan otherwise.

As the two talked, Cartman and Kenny had a stare off. The brunette finished off his breakfast and dusted off his hands. It was at this point, where he caught sight of his mother loitering around in the living room.

Kenny was about to bring up what else he and Stan saw last night, but was distracted by Liane when she came through to the kitchen. He eyed her up and then an idea struck. Cartman slowly pulled his drink away from his lips and he swallowed hard. He could see, just by watching those blue eyes dart around, that he was up to something.

"Don't-"

"Hey, Mrs Cart- sorry. Miss Cartman?" Kenny pushed up from his seat as quickly as he could and followed Liane around the kitchen. "I was just telling Eric here about how much better you're looking. Like, don't take this the wrong way, but has anyone told you how amazing you look recently?"

Her eyes widened in complete surprise. "Oh!"

"Yeah, sorry, I just couldn't help but notice. Your skin? It's looking a lot healthier. And your hair? My god, did you dye it recently? It looks nice when it's all down like that." He gestured to her long, brown hair and although he was only saying these nice things to piss Cartman off, he meant every word he said. Kenny always sympathized with Liane. His family were brought up by the same demons, so he completely understood the process of recovery. She was looking healthier and he wanted to personally address it. In a sense, he was killing two birds with one stone.

Liane was taken back by the unexpected compliment. She glanced over at her son, who had his eyes locked on Kenny the entire time and her face warmed with a smile. "That's... really kind of you to say. Thank you, Kenny. Oh, and I've told you boys before, you can call my Liane. There's no need for formalities in this house."

"Oh, right. Sorry, Miss... Liane Cartman, I totally forgot." He rubbed the back of his neck and smiled sheepishly. "But I really do mean it though. You're looking good- great!" He corrected quickly. "You look great."

Her red painted lips opened up into a toothy smile. "You're a little angel, you know that?" She moved to the fridge and opened it up to see what groceries were running low. "Eric, hun. I'm going to run out and get a few things. I won't be too long."

"No problem, mom." He said with a jaw so tense, his teeth ground firmly together. Kyle could see Cartman's curled fingers flexing on the table, his knuckles stained white. His face, however, remained indifferent. He looked calm.

Kenny bit his lip and made it obvious that he was checking her out as she walked away. When the front door closed, he turned to his friends and put a hand to his heart. "Dayuum, you hear that, you guys? She thinks I'm an angel."

The chair flew backwards and tumbled to the floor when Cartman shot up from his seat. Kenny's expression quickly dropped and he flinched back when the brunette jumped at him with raging hands. The fridge rattled and several magnets dropped to the floor when Kenny's back collided into it. One of Cartman's fists was holding him into place and the other was pulled back, ready for an assault. His aggressive behaviour was too sudden to predict and it left Kenny lost for words.

"Cartman, stop!" Kyle managed the strength to stand up and hold a hand out, though he was too far to be able to intervene. "Calm down!"

Stan stared in disbelief. It wasn't until Kyle smacked him across the shoulder and whispered a, "dude?!", when he realized that it was his responsibility to break it up. "Oh, right." He rushed over and tried to tear the two apart, but Cartman's claws dug deep.

"What're you gonna do, ya gonna hit me? Hit me then, you fucking pussy!" Kenny may have had confidence to taunt him, but the truth was, he really didn't want to get beaten up. Certainly not by his best friend.

"Don't think I don't know what you're doing, you little cunt!" Cartman's words were harsh and hurtful.

"Oh, I know that you know. That's why I'm doing it." He ended with a patronizing smirk.

It sent Cartman over the edge. He absolutely hated him. His raised fist shook with rage.

"Alright, I think you can let go now!" Stan used all his strength this time and after a little more pulling and tugging, Cartman eventually let go.

When the weight was pulled off him, Kenny's eyes were filled with anger, fear and surprise. His collar was scrunched up and his shoulders were tense. Cartman had completely crossed the mark again and Kenny couldn't let that go. It wouldn't have been right. He looked over at Kyle and thought about exposing his suspicions about Cartman right there in front of everybody. But when he looked back over at his infuriated friend, he saw those eyes turn to desperation.

Cartman was pleading with him.

Kenny wasn't as innocent as he liked to have made out. However, he wasn't exactly mean spirited either. He knew that if he exposed Cartman's dirty little secret, he would only regret it afterwards. He straightened out his collar and inspected his creased arms. "Really? Was there any need to act so... aggressive?"

Stan immediately let go when Cartman shot him an angered look. He turned to his blond friend and asked, "Are you okay, Kenny?"

"Hm, a little traumatized, thanks. I ain't never been attacked by a wild animal before." He kept his eyes on Cartman, who could barely even look at him.

"You really are a piece of shit." Cartman licked his teeth and then elaborated. "I don't know what you expected? If you disrespect me in my own house then I'm going to fuck you up. I don't give a fuck, Kenny, I'm not tolerating that shit from you. You did it last night and I let it go and you've done it again this morning. Do it a third time? See what happens, because I guarantee Stan won't be there to hold me back." When he finished speaking, he turned his back on him completely, expecting Kenny to take the hint to leave. He felt his temper rising again and he feared that one wrong look was going to make him lose control.

"Oh, I'm sorry. You don't like my little joke? You didn't like that? Too personal for ya, huh?" Kenny rolled his eyes and waved a hand. "Fuck off and stop being so goddamn sensitive, will ya?"

Cartman pulled his fingers away from the bridge of his nose and a sinister chuckle left his throat. He was protective over his vulnerable mother, just like Kenny was protective over his equally vulnerable siblings. He thought about that and then turned around, shaking his head. "Sensitive? Okay. Alright. Fine. If that's the case, you wanna know something?"

"Guys, stop." Stan tried to intervene, but as per usual, his voice of reason fell on deaf ears.

"Your brother's a fucking junkie, your parents don't fucking love you, you're dumb as fuck, hence why you're failing at pretty much everything and guess what? We aren't friends anymore! I have honestly never known anyone so fucking retarded in all my life and, and-!" He repeated that last word with emphasis and threw a finger at him as the words slipped from his lips, "Your taste in men? Guess what? It fucking sucks!"

Kenny went from feeling incredibly shocked and offended, to a little amused. He took a step closer and their eyes finally met. "And there's me holding back. Well, ya know what? I really wish I could say the same things to you. Only, I'm not a complete fucking douche bag. Tell me, is it cozy in there?" He was sending a message and he wasn't smiling about it either. He was hurt and he was five seconds away from saying something he was going to immediately regret after.

"Stan." Cartman addressed through gritted teeth. He wasn't about to let Kenny open that can of worms, not in front of the whole group. "Get your boy outta here before I make him kiss my fucking feet."

"Er, what? You want us... to leave?" Stan said, his eyes darting between the two.

"Did I fucking stutter? Get him out!" Cartman barked out while gesturing to the door.

Kenny narrowed his disappointed eyes and then left with Stan out the back. When the door slammed shut, Kyle pulled the seat out next to him.

"Dude, sit down." Kyle said.

Cartman paced around the kitchen. "I don't want to sit down. Does that little prick honestly think he can come into my house - my house, and disrespect me like that? I mean, who does he think he is?!"

"Please, just sit down." Kyle sighed, resting his chin against the palm of his hand.

He ignored him. "Nah, you know what? I am so fucking done with him and his bullshit."

"Cartman."

"You hear me?! DONE! And let me tell you something, he's not welcome in my house anymore. Yeah, that's right."

"Fatass." Kyle suggested and it seemed as if he was talking to a brick wall.

"And I'm deleting him off all my socials too. I'm blocking his number and I swear to god? If he even steps foot inside my house ever again? Immortal or not? I'm going to-"

"Eric."

If Cartman was a cat, his ears would have twitched at the sound of his real name being spoken. He stopped in mid-sentence and then forgot what his original point was. He saw the chair pulled out to the side and then took a seat. He dropped his head into his hands and clawed his nails into his scalp. He was embarrassed and Kyle could see this, so he gave him a moment to calm down. He waited until his breathing evened out before asking, "Do you feel better now?"

"No." Cartman said simply.

As he sat there reflecting on his outburst, Kyle whipped out his phone a went searching for something. If talking about it wasn't going to help, then he was going to need to a different method. "You wanna see something funny?" There was no response, but he tried anyway. "Do you remember this?"

Cartman was too stubborn to look at first. But then he got curious. Before he knew it, he was looking at a picture of himself from almost a decade ago. He had a helmet on and was hanging in mid-air. The scenery was beautiful, but it didn't make up for the bad memory behind it. He could have sworn he threw the picture away somewhere, but Kyle somehow had a copy of it. "Wasn't that when we went zip lining that one time?"

"Yeah. Still ranks the top spot for one of the worst days of my life." Kyle snickered and pulled up another picture. "I have this one too."

This was a more recent photo of him. He was pushing a suited up Butters in a shopping cart. They both looked smart, so it must have been from some kind of formal celebration. They were only thirteen.

"Look how handsome I look." Cartman admitted proudly, pointing to the picture.

Kyle swiped through a few more. "And this."

A picture of Cartman, Stan and Kenny sitting in a booth of a local diner, minding their own business and looking away from the camera. They were fifteen in this one. Cartman was wearing a t-shirt with the words 'woke af' written across the front. He bought it online to wear at a local political rally in an attempt to piss as many people off as he could, regardless of his beliefs on the matter. Stan had his head stuffed in a beanie and was wearing a black jacket. He wasn't exactly the stereotypical emo, but the Blink-182 tee and black fingernails didn't help his cause. It was nothing more than a confusing, fun phase. Lastly, Kenny had most of his face hidden by his low hood. You could just about see the smile on his face.

"I don't remember that. Cool shot though." Cartman felt his attention being pulled away. His mind started to replay the confrontation he had with Kenny and the feeling of regret started to settle in.

"Hey."

The sound of Kyle's voice withdrew him from the reality of his mind and he looked down at the last picture Kyle presented.

It was a photo of both of them together. It dated back to longer than six months ago. They were costumed up, wearing horror versions of video game characters. Although half of the group was missing from the picture, there was a backstory to their poorly made costumes.

Stan kept it simple and went as Ash from Pokèmon, Kenny went as a dollar store Edward Kenway from Assassins Creed, Kyle went as a redheaded Link from Legend of Zelda and Cartman came as a broke Marcus Fenix from Gears of War. The original idea was for them all to have a theme and dress as Super Mario characters, but after various arguments and the inability to come to a unanimous decision, they each decided to come as whoever they wanted. It was the first year where they didn't dress as a team.

The memory was relatively fresh in Cartman's mind and he remembered the night fondly. The photo was taken after a weird moment of bonding in Stan's backyard. It was similar to the one they were having right now.

And last night.

In fact, those weird moments were becoming more frequent and actually, less weird and less awkward than before.

"Is that cropped?" Cartman asked.

"No?"

"Are you saying we actually took a picture together?"

Kyle thought about it. "Yeah. Weird, I have tonnes of pictures with Stan and Kenny... even Butters. But you? I think this is the only one. Only recent one, anyway."

Cartman looked at the photo one last time. "Yeah, that is... weird. I never noticed that before."

"Have you ever wondered why we don't?"

Cartman's wasn't sure. "Because we hate each other?"

"But-" Kyle held the phone close to his body and studied the picture again. "We don't hate each other. If we did, you wouldn't be helping me get around. If we did, you wouldn't have waited with me all night at the hospital. If we did, you wouldn't be sat this close to me."

It wasn't like they were touching knees, but Kyle had a point. They didn't hate each other at all.

---

Kenny dealt with the confrontation almost polar opposite to Cartman. He was more calm than angry and overall, just generally disappointed with the outcome. He hated arguing with his friends and wished they did more things together as a group. He felt pretty guilty for pushing his friend's buttons and quickly decided that he wasn't going to hold a grudge. The next time he would see him, Kenny was going to apologize.

"I shouldn't have done that." He admitted.

"Are you kidding? He overreacted, it wasn't your fault." Stan reassured, but Kenny knew what he knew and he couldn't help but feel bad for what happened.

"I wasn't expecting him to react like that. Something ain't right with him."

"He needs help. Wait, is that my?" Stan took a hand off the steering wheel and reached into his back pocket. "Do you mind getting that?" He tossed his ringing phone over to Kenny.

"It's Butters. Want me to answer it?" He asked after already hitting the green button and bringing it to his ear. "Hey, Butters! Did ya miss me?"

"Oh. Hey, Kenny. Uh, is Stan there?"

He could sense panic in his voice. "He's driving. Is everything okay?" Over the next few seconds, Kenny listened carefully. "Okay... uh-huh... right... in a what? You're kidding. Tell me you're not serious. Stan, stop the car. Stop the car!" He frantically slapped Stan's shoulder until the vehicle came to an emergency stop. "Okay... And where are you right now? Alright, just stay put, we're coming. And don't touch it! Oh, you already did? Whatever, just leave it alone until we get there, kay?"

He hung up the phone and Stan gave him a worried look. "Great. I was hoping I would have just one normal day this week. What happened this time?"

Kenny replayed the conversation in his head, not quite believing it himself. "Butters had a package delivered to him this morning. Said it was... Bucky?"

"Whose the hell is Bucky?"

Things were starting to a line in his head. His gut was telling him that this was not a coincidence. "His missing hamster."