Here's the third chappy! I love you guys! I LOVE all the great feedback I'm getting! I'm thinking this story will be either shorter or longer than From the Depth of my Soul, depending on what I may throw in. Soooo, keep reading and I promise mucho excitement! Also, Stan's first (being the operative word here) problem in this chapter may not be very big, but it'll get better. Trust me. Rome wasn't built in a day, after all!

Don't Cry

Kyle's POV

I could hear the doorbell ring, footsteps, most likely my Mother's, walking over to it and then Stan's voice. I hopped down from where I had been sitting near the windowsill and rushed over to the door quietly. Pressing my ear against it, I could hear:

"Hello, Mrs. Broflovski. Um, is Kyle here?"

"Why, yes. He is, Stanley. Are you alright?"

I heard muffled talking and then footsteps trampling up the stairs and the bedroom door swung open. I flew back and was shocked at what I saw.

If Stan has ever looked truly miserable in his life, this was the time.

His eyes were red and swollen, his face pale and flushed, and he wasn't wearing his trademark toque. His hair was messy and wet from walking out in the snowfall. You could tell he was gulping back more tears.

"Dude! What happened? Are you alright?"

Stan pushed in, closing the door behind him. He looked so small and frail. I was afraid to show any contact.

"Stan, you're scaring me. Here, sit down. Tell me what's wrong, okay?"

He nodded and fell onto my bed pulling Mr. Bear, the teddy from my childhood, off the pillow and dropping it to the floor. I had never been able to bring myself togetting rid of that bear and Cartman still teased me about it. His fur was matted and worn from years of being cuddled and one of his beaded black eyes was missing; a button sewn on by Mom had replaced it. I still loved him to tears, however.

"Oh, god, Kyle. M-my …"

I handed him a Kleenex and waited for him to blow his nose.

"My Grandma died."

I couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. I thought something had happened to him. My heart still sunk to see him cry.

Stan and his Grandma had always been close. She always told him that he was her favorite grandchild. He always acted like it wasn't a big deal, but deep down; we all knew that he was ecstatic to have that honor.

I think he liked being her favorite because all his cousins were high achievers in school. They ranked top in their classes and were on the honor roll. It wasn't that he was bad in school, but Stan was star quarterback and the most athletic, and it just didn't receive the same kind of attention. I knew how hard he wanted to feel accepted by his entire family.

"Damn, Dude. I'm so sorry."

I sat down on the edge of the bed and melted into the warmth radiating off his body. He wiped his nose with the Kleenex, now torn up. I handed him a new one.

"God, I just can't believe I'll never see her again. I didn't even g-get a chance to say g-goodbye."

He broke down in tears once again. A sudden surge of bravery flowed through my veins. I took a deep breath and rested my hand on his leg, partly above his knee, close to his thigh.

I was half expecting him to flip out, ask what the hell I was doing, and then leave. However, my hand went unnoticed and he curled his knees up to his chest, letting it continue to rest on his thigh. Then came the biggest shock of my life.

He gently curled his fingers around mine and tucked our linked hands under his chin. His hand felt so cold and I saw him shiver, his teeth chattering. I had forgotten he still had the flu.

"I think my fever's coming back."

I pulled the covers out beneath him, signaling for him to get under. He did, but didn't let go of my grip. I put the hand that wasn't holding onto his upon his forehead. It felt clammy and his hair was damp. He was burning up.

"You're really warm, Stan. I'm going to go downstairs and find you some medicine, okay?"

He nodded, his expression tired and sleep overcoming him, but his grip didn't loosen. He was still shuddering from crying earlier and sniffling.

"I'll be right back. I promise."

He did let go this time, but I felt his eyes on me the entire time as I left the room.

I hurried down the stairs, almost tripping over Ike at the bottom.

"Shit! Ike, don't play with your toys there. Somebody's going to get hurt and it'll be you if you don't clear out. You're not too old to play 'kick the baby'!"

He ignored me so I threw my hands up frustrated. I had more important things to worry about right now anyways. Little brother issues could wait.

I entered the kitchen, and began digging around in the cupboards, looking for something to ease Stan's pain.

"Booby, what are you looking for?"

I whirled around to see my Mother staring at me, waiting for an answer. I had to be careful of what I was saying. Mom liked to get involved as much as she could.

"Uh, Stan's got the flu and he's not feeling too good. Do we have anything we can give him?"

A look of concern flashed over her features.

"Does his Mother know he's here? Is he okay? He wasn't looking too good when he came in."

I held my hands up in defense.

"Mom, Mom! He's okay. He just needs a Tylenol or something. Do we have any?"

She crossed over to the stove and reached to the cupboard above it. She pulled out a bottle of Advil. Shaking two into her hand, she turned on the kitchen tap.

"Get a glass for me, would you, Booby?"

I obeyed and handed it to her. She waited a few seconds, tested the running water with her index finger and filled the glass when the temperature reached her satisfaction. She handed me both the glass and the pills.

"Take these up to him. They should do the trick. You've got school tomorrow, Booby. I don't want you two visiting for too long. If they don't help, I want to see him. Got it?"

I nodded with relief. I hated it when she made a big deal out of everything.

Ike had taken my earlier warning and cleared out of the way as soon as I came into sight. I nudged him with my foot as I passed and he stuck his tongue out at me. We both grinned after and I continued up the stairs.

I shoved open my door using my shoulder, seeing as my hands were both holding something. I could feel Stan's energy lingering in the air and it gave me the jitters. Everything about him did.

He was still curled up, hugging Mr. Bear to his chest. His breathing was struggled from his stuffed up nose and his eyes were closed. Dark lashes lay still around his eyes and a look of peace was painted in his handsome features. It took me a minute to realize he was asleep.

I didn't know if I should wake him or not. The medicine would probably help in the long run, but sleep always did miraculous wonders.

After a few moments of thinking about and admiring Stan, I decided to let him sleep for a little bit and when I woke him up, I'd give him the Advil.

I took my place in my desk chair again, putting the water and pills down beside the mouse pad. The room was quiet except for the soft snoring from Stan.

I sighed and proceeded to finish my English assignment. Through this whole ordeal, it had been sort of sidetracked. I would've felt guilty if it hadn't been for Stan.

He took over my mind and all my thoughts were reserved just for him. He was the type of person I had spent so many sleepless nights thinking about and just for the very fact that he was amazing. Ab-so-lu-te-ly amazing. He was a beautiful person. Inside and out. He had a big heart and a great head on his shoulders. He came from a great family. He'd travel across the world for you. Who wouldn't want a friend like that? But I wasn't satisfied with his friendship alone. I wanted him. I wanted to have him in the grasp that Wendy possessed.

All he needed was reassurance. Somebody there to tell him things would work out in the end. Amazing. He had stolen my heart and he didn't even know it.

I spent the next hour finishing my homework. Normally, I wouldn't have minded doing it, but when a vulnerable Stan was lying asleep on my bed, I just couldn't focus. If this had been under normal circumstances, I would've been done in half an hour considering we didn't have all that much.

I leaned back in my chair, stretching my arms above me and yawning. I pushed my fingers together, cracking them.

"How long have I been asleep for?"

I jumped slightly and turned around to see Stan sitting up against the headboard. His hair was messy and he looked positively adorable … with the exception of his puffy eyes. Still ….

I found my voice.

"Not long. Maybe an hour."

He nodded and yawned.

"I didn't mean to fall asleep, Kyle. Sorry."

I got up and handed him the water and pills. He stared at them blankly.

"It's alright. Take these. They'll make you feel better."

He leaned forward reaching for them with no questions and swallowed both with a swig of water. He handed the glass back to me, closed his eyes and leaned back against the headboard.

"You okay, Stan?"

He opened them again and smiled weakly, the tears gathering again.

"I guess. It's …Just; I can't believe she's gone, Dude. I mean, I'll never see her again. It's killing me. Can you imagine? Never seeing someone you care so much about ever again? Sometimes, I felt like she was the only person who truly saw me for who I am. Not how good I did in school. Just … me."

I couldn't help but feel a little rejected. If only he knew how I saw him. I understood him. Now wasn't the time to bring it up, though.

"I know, Stan. It's okay. She was so proud of you and you should just cherish the precious memories you have of her. She was lucky to have a grandson as nice and kind-hearted as you."

He looked up, surprised.

"You really mean that?"

I nodded and kneeled down beside the bed.

"Of course, Dude. I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it. You're my best friend. I only pick the very best for that honor." I joked.

He cracked a small smile.

"Thanks, Kyle. That means a lot to me. Really."

I smiled gently and took his hand once again.

"You mean a lot to me."

He squeezed back on my hand and I don't think he really realized what I meant. It didn't matter though. Not now, anyways. In his mind, we were just friends sharing a tender moment. In mine, my heart was soaring and it felt wonderful to hold Stan's hand. To have him all to myself even if it was only for an hour was all I could ask for.

Stan was getting uncomfortable because he reluctantly let go of my hand and threw back the covers.

"Look, Dude. My Mom will flip if I'm not home soon. She understood that I wanted to talk to somebody who wasn't related to Grandma. Everyone at my house was in tears when I left. I better get back."

I nod and try to restrain myself from flinging against him and refusing to let him go.

"Sure, Stan. I understand. It's no biggie. I'll see you tomorrow, kay?"

He nods.

"Thanks for being there for me, Kyle. I can always count on you."

He gets up and I follow him to the bedroom door.

"I'll see you at school tomorrow, then. Thanks for the medicine and letting me crash in your bed." He says the last part with a grin and I can't help but feel myself being pulled in again.

"Yup. No problem. I hope you feel better, Dude. Tell your family I'm sorry."

He nods and looks at me sort of strangely for a moment. Then, he pulls me into an awkward hug. I take in his scent and sort of nuzzle my head into his shoulder.

"Bye, Stan."

He pulls back and smiles.

"Bye, Kyle."

He waves and wanders out, leaving me standing in the doorwayand dazed. I hear him say goodbye to my Mother and Ike. The front door slams softly and I run back into my room and to my window, hoping to catch one last glimpse of him.

He's amazing and I cry because it hurts to know he doesn't think of me in the same way.