A/N: Heh heh... this chapter only took what, three months? .- Nah, I didn't give up on the story, I just... was lazy. But I'll use the excuse that I no longer have my computer and had to write this entire thing on Christine's. So... here it is, you'd think after this long I could write a long chapter, but that'd make far too much sense.

Blaming on Someone Else

Christophe was holding him.

One slash to forget the memory.

Christophe was kissing him.

Two strikes to try and pretend it wasn't real.

Christophe was loving him.

Three more cuts to try and make himself think it was all a dream.

Christophe stole his affection that you could've won.

Another four times he ripped open his skin, wanting the pain to disappear.

Christophe was with your best friend.

Five final cuts because Kyle would never be more than his best friend. And with no effort Christophe had beat him. Christophe... what did he have that Kyle didn't? How did he manipulate Stan's heart to believe he was worthy of his love? What could he have said to be able to have Stan in a way no other boy had ever had him?

Why wasn't Kyle just as good?

He flung himself down on his bed and sobbed into his cut arm, the tears making the thin wounds sting slightly. Do you know how much you've hurt me Stan? He wondered in his head, Do you know that you've torn my heart apart and I'm hurting from my own tears?

I would give you anything you wanted. I've tried to give you everything you could desire. We've been best friends all these years, why couldn't you tell all along that part of me always wanted to be closer to you than your friend?

Suddenly he laughed bitterly out loud, "First sign you're losing your mind... you're trying to talk to someone in your thoughts."

With a quick glance to his clock, he realized it was only two in the afternoon. But he buried his face into his arms, regardless that it wasn't night, restlessly falling asleep.

"He's up in his room, Stan."

Stan jiggled the doorknob. Locked. Frowning slightly, he knocked loudly on Kyle's door. No response. "Fine, Kyle..." Stan murmured, and he began picking the lock with a hairpin. Why he had a hairpin with him... who knows.

Stan's gaze instantly fixed on the sleeping Kyle, and his eyes widened in horror. All he could do was keep himself from yelling. He shut the door quickly so that Kyle's mom wouldn't come in... he needed to talk to Kyle before he told his parents.

Kyle's arm was visible, dangling carelessly off of the side of his bed, and Stan rushed to his side and began to shake Kyle awake.

"Nghhh...."

"Get the hell up!" Stan hissed at Kyle, resuming his shaking.

"Wha – ? Oh... nerf... hey Stan," Kyle blinked blearily a few times before focusing on Stan, and then he noticed his furious expression. "Somefin' wrong?"

Stan painfully grabbed Kyle's arm, "No kidding something's wrong!"

"Oh... oh..." Kyle squirmed guiltily in his bed. Why did Stan have to notice? Why couldn't he just be left in peace to do what he wanted now and then?

"There's more." Stan stated, it wasn't a question, and in a second he was examining Kyle's body looking for where more of the cuts were.

"What are you doing?!" Kyle yelped as Stan lifted up his shirt to check his stomach for more damage. "There's nothing there!"

Stan wasn't listening. "Roll over."

"Huh?"

"Roll over!" Stan repeated, and as Kyle still wasn't listening, Stan pushed him over so he could observe Kyle's back. "None there, either..." he said softly, "just tell me where they are, Kyle.... Save me some time, where are the rest of them?"

"There's no more."

Stan stared into his friend's eyes, unsure whether or not he could trust what he was saying. Hadn't Kyle told him just yesterday he wasn't planning to use Damien's knife? That's when it hit him...

Damien....

It was all Damien's fault. This whole mess.

"I'm staying the night," Stan announced in a slightly more calm tone. Kyle couldn't help but laugh a little.

"Aren't you supposed to be invited first?"

"...No."

"My mistake," Kyle eyed the clock again. 6:27. Wow, he'd been asleep for a while. "Don't you need your backpack? Homework?"

Stan grumbled... of course... how could he forget? Tomorrow was Monday... they had school. "Can't I just copy your homework? All my textbooks are in my locker, anyways." Stan flashed a grin, and even though Kyle was angry at him, he couldn't help but warm up considerably to him. Who can resist that cute smile?

Stan took the smile creeping slowly onto Kyle's face to mean a yes.

"You know I love you," Stan said with a laugh.

"Because I let you copy my homework pretty much every day?"

"Yup."

Kyle rolled his eyes and laughed. But he secretly wished Stan would mean it in a different way.

"Dinner!" Mrs. Broflovski called up the stairs to the two. Kyle pulled on a sweatshirt before retreating down the stairs after Stan, he didn't think his mom would approve if she noticed his cuts.

Stan glanced at his left arm as Kyle appeared next to him, a soft frown creasing his cheerful face again. It was obvious he didn't want to push it... but Kyle could tell Stan was worried about him.

They sat down at the table, Stan filling the seat that would normally be occupied by Ike but he wasn't home at the moment, as Mrs. Broflovski set plates of lasagna in front of all of them.

"Anything interesting happen today, boys?" Mrs. Broflovski asked as she sat down and turned her attention to them.

Stan cast a meaningful look at Kyle, and for a horrible second he thought Stan was going to tell his mother about the cutting, but Stan looked back to Kyle's mother and shook his head.

"Nope, nothing...." But the frown was still there as he started to eat.

Ike came home right around when dinner was over, and Kyle and Stan headed into the living room to play video games. Ike groaned at this.

"But you'll be playing for hours!"

"Yes we will. Now go away," Stan grinned at Kyle's little brother, who walked away looking pissed.

It was no lie... four hours later, they were still playing. Finally Stan just fell asleep on the couch – his head right on Kyle's lap. Kyle dropped his controller, and carefully stood up without waking Stan. Kyle shut off the television and fetched a blanket for Stan, which he carefully laid over him.

"Good night, Stan...." Kyle muttered as he turned off the living room light, heading back to his room where he climbed into bed. As he thought over the day, he found himself wishing more and more there was no Christophe.