Authors Note: Thanks so much for the reviews!
Chapter 2- Miss You:
Even though it was dark, he could still make out his surroundings with incredible accuracy. Obviously it was somewhere outside, considering the soft rays of silver from the incredibly thin crescent moon overhead. Thick trees with gnarled branches and gray leaves lined the wide, muddy path he stood on. The place wasn't familiar, and he was even unsure how he got there. All he knew was that he didn't like it. It held a sort of eeriness to it that made him shiver and pull his jacket closer around him.
In the distance he could faintly see the silhouette of a familiar figure. It didn't move, but he could sense it watching him. Watching, and waiting.
"Stan?" Nervousness tinged the name he called out.
With one blink the figure moved, and now stood directly in front of him. He jerked back violently at the unexpected and surreal movement, falling back into the mud with a soft splash that made the shadow smile. He peered up at it frightfully, but immediately heaved a sigh of relief. He would recognize that smile anywhere. Hell, he would recognize his best friends hand if it were detached and set in a case with others.
"Holy shit, Dude!" His heart hammered wildly in his ears. "What the hell was that?"
The addressed boy didn't speak, but his smile faded quickly. He clutched his stomach and squeezed his eyes closed as if he were in pain.
"Are you okay?" Concern rung Kyle's voice. He stood, paying no mind to the mud that now dripped from him.
Stan's blue eyes opened hesitantly, revealing a gush of tears that spilled down his cheeks like glistening waterfalls. As if an invisible gust of wind shot out, he was blown, or maybe even sucked backward and into the air. Kyle grabbed his hand and held tight, shaking so badly he felt sick as the terrified scream pierced his friends throat. His heels left skids in the mud as the force became so powerful it began dragging him slowly along.
"Let him go, Kyle." A familiar voice rung out and echoed through the trees.
"No!" Kyle yelled back. He squeezed his grip tighter, not even caring the pressure was probably extremely painful on Stan's sensitive fingertips. Despite his attempt, his hold slid further and further down Stan's hand and fingers until he finally broke loose.
"Stan!" Kyle's blood curdling shriek escaped without permission as he was forced to watch his companion disappear into the darkness with a softly fading cry of terror. He fell to his knees, sobbing into his green mittens hysterically. The emotions caught painfully in his throat when he was yanked to his feet by the front of his shirt. He was acutely aware of the way his stray tears immediately froze on his cheeks and eyelashes when he met the blank gaze of Eric Cartman.
"I hate to tell you this, Kyle," He spoke in his calm, business-like tone. Slight misery crossed his usually angry face as he looked up and to the left in thoughtfulness. "Stan is going to die."
Kyle's chest tightened, and he ripped Eric's hand off his shirt. "No he isn't!"
The rounder boy closed his eyes, losing himself in thoughts. "He's gone."
"Shut the fuck up!" Tears of anger burned Kyle's cheeks. "Why are you doing this!"
"I know." Eric answered with a smirk.
"You know what?"
Eric's head cocked slightly to the side and his grin widened. "The best way to hurt you, is to hurt Stan."
The purest form of heartache choked Kyle's teary words, but his anger remained in tact. "What did you do to him!"
With a laugh, Eric turned and walked away, revealing the cross shaped headstone behind him.
"Stanley Marsh"…
…Kyle sprung forward in bed, barely holding back the petrified scream raging inside him. He was nearly choking on his sharp, quick breaths and with saucer-sized eyes took in the confines of his room. He clutched his blankets and squeezed his eyes closed, trying his damnedest to calm his rabid heart and rattled nerves.
But it just wasn't working.
His eyes opened reluctantly. A sinking pain consumed his stomach when his thoughts drifted to Stan. The dark-haired boy had been non-existent for two weeks, a total of ten school days. Kyle had gone to his house everyday after school, only to be turned away by Mrs. Marsh, who insisted her "baby" was too sick to even get out of bed, let alone have company.
Who the hell was that sick for that long? Stan had always gotten over colds and viruses faster than any of them. But what if he was sicker than they realized? What if something was really wrong with him? What if he only got worse?
Kyle hugged his knees to his chest and began rocking up and back.
Stan's going to die.
Cartman's words from his previous nightmare came back to haunt him full blast. They echoed through his head, swirling with the sound of Stan's terrified cry. He began rocking faster, trying to drown out the sounds with no success.
Stan's going to die… Stan's going to die…
"Fuck this!" He yelled, grabbing the phone off his side table and falling out of bed in the process. He quickly dialed Stan's number, not even caring about the dreadfully late hour. By the fourth ring, he became even more paranoid and was about to throw the phone and race to his best friends house, pajamas and all, when he heard a soft click.
"Stan?" He asked eagerly.
"Mmm?" Came the groggy reply.
"Oh, thank God, Dude." He sighed deeply. "I had this really crappy dream that you were dead because Cartman predicted it. It felt so real and freaked me out so bad I could barely breathe when I woke up. I don't think I've had a nightmare that bad since I was nine."
There was silence on the other end, and suddenly, "Kyle?"
"No Stan, it's your Mother." He replied sarcastically.
Another long pause. "Mom?"
Kyle couldn't help the quiet chuckle that bubbled out of his throat. "I was being sarcastic. Yes, this is Kyle."
Stan rubbed his eyes and tried to blink away sleep. "Do you have any idea how late it is?"
Kyle pulled the phone away from his ear when Stan began coughing loudly. He answered when the noise subsided. "No, and I don't give a flying fuck. I had to make sure you were alright. I'm really worried about you. I… don't want you to die." He chewed his lower lip, fighting back threatening tears as the image of the headstone flashed across his mind.
Stan propped himself up against his headboard, his forehead wrinkled in confusion. "Die? I'm not gonna die. I just got really sick. I was in the emergency room the first night I got it. Damn, dude, you wouldn't believe some of the sick things I saw there."
The red-haired boy finally began to relax and smiled at the familiar sound of his friends voice. "When are you coming out again?"
He was answered first by a yawn. "Maybe next week sometime."
"I hope so. I haven't had anyone cool to hang out with. Except Kenny, but it's not the same." He complained.
Stan scoffed. "You think that's bad? Try having no one to hang out with but Miffy, the get better bear."
"The what?"
"Don't ask."
Kyle stifled a laugh, picturing his friend snuggling a chubby brown bear and eating chicken soup. His humor subsided when Stan was attacked by another coughing fit, moaning in pain when it died down. "That sounds bad."
Stan faked a laugh. "You can't even imagine."
It wouldn't seem right, he knew. But his sensitivity got the best of him, and at the risk of sounding like a fag, Kyle voiced his thoughts. "I miss you, Stan."
"I miss you, too." He replied around a stuffy sounding sniff. "You haven't replaced me with the fat ass, have you?"
Pure disgust spread across Kyle's face. He was even reduced to sticking his tongue out in a mocked barfing imitation. "No way, Dude!"
Stan coughed around his laugh. "With anyone?"
"Of course not. You know I love you most."
"Good." He stated. "Don't break my heart, Kyle."
It was something he always liked about Stan. They were comfortable enough around each other to joke about their sexuality and platonic friendship without taking it literally. "Have I been replaced with Miffy?"
Stan's eyes automatically locked on the fluffy, stuffed animal resting at the foot of his bed. "Hmm. I love you both so much…"
"Stan!"
"But of course I choose you," He quickly added. "You're my favorite." He reached across the bed and grabbed the bear. "I'm sorry, Miffy. It's not me, it's you."
Kyle laughed at the make-believe breakup, now completely devoid of his nightmare and any lingering doubts about his friends condition.
"I'd better go," Stan announced, hugging the bear to his chest. "My Mom comes in to check on me every couple hours, and I'm not sure when she came in last."
Kyle nodded, forgetting the fact that he couldn't be seen. "Thanks for making me feel better."
"Feel better about what?"
"My nightmare."
"What nightmare?"
Kyle laughed again. Stan really had been out of it when he first called. "It's not important anymore."
"Sure?"
"Positive."
Stan stalled another cough. "Alright. I'll see you next week."
"Okay," Kyle agreed. "Goodnight."
"Night."
Kyle placed the phone in its proper spot, climbed back into bed from his position on the floor, and snuggled deep within his blankets. Sleep came easily, and this time with a smile on his face.
Butters stood by his locker, nervously biting his lower lip as his eyes scanned for the familiar face of Stan Marsh. Unfortunately, like every other day the past two weeks, the person he waited upon never did emerge from the outside world and into the stuffy school building.
He almost turned to walk to class, when his attention was brought about by Kyle. The boy was alone again, quietly tinkering with the contents of the locker he shared with Stan. He sighed woefully, looking particularly down today.
Butters twisted his fingers, debating on whether or not to approach his classmate. It only took a few moments for him to decide that he would. After all, it wasn't in his nature to brush off the miserable.
"H-hey, Kyle." He greeted.
Kyle shut the locker door and let his forehead fall against the cold metal, never once looking at the blonde. "Butters…" He muttered.
The said boy's eyes darted around, unsure if that was suppose to be a Hello or a Go away. Hoping it was the first, he went on, "Well, I haven't seen Stan for ah, a while now and I was wondering if he's okay."
Kyle slammed his head against the locker door once. "He was suppose to come to school last week."
Butter's frowned at the explanation that completely lacked an explanation. "Wu- why didn't he?"
"I don't know, Butters." He turned from the locker and spread his arms wide. "What do I look like, a psychic?"
"No. Not if all psychics uh, look like Eric."
Anger seeped its way through Kyle's blood. "Cartman is not a psychic! That's all a bunch of bull crap!"
Butters looked down, linking his hands behind him "Gee, I'm sorry, Kyle."
"It's okay," He assured immediately as the irritation seeped out of him like helium. "I talked to him Friday. He said he should be coming back this week. Now it's Wednesday and I still haven't seen him."
A half smile curved Butters lips as he watched Stan sneak up behind his friend, a finger to his lips in code for the blonde to keep quiet. "I guess you miss him sumthin' terrible then, huh?"
Kyle sighed for what felt like the billionth time that morning. He hadn't had anyone to confide in since Stan got sick. It's not that Kenny wasn't a good listener, but Kyle knew it was best not to burden him. The unfortunate kid had enough to worry about on his own.
"I know this may sound kind of gay," Kyle found himself telling the luckier, yet geekier blonde. "But I've been miserable without Stan. All I've been doing is counting down the minutes until I can see him again."
"You're gonna give me diabetes if you say anything else that sweet."
Kyle spun around at the familiar voice, his eyes lighting up straight away as he took in his best friends profile. He looked slightly paler than normal, and had deep purple circles beneath his eyes, but for the most part looked normal. "Dude!" He burst out and squeezed Stan so tight he almost turned blue.
Butters bit back his jealousy as he watched on. Sweet as he thought it was, he couldn't help but wish he were as close with Stan as Kyle was. He had never singled out the raven haired boy in particular before. That all changed about a month ago. Eric had been teasing him for one reason or another, like he usually did. Any other day he would have done his best to shrug it off, but he had been especially sensitive that week, considering the recent death of a family member, and couldn't help but start crying.
The moment the tears began, Stan had stepped between the two and knocked the larger boy flat on his back with one blow to the face. He had then placed a comforting hand on Butters shoulder and led him away from the scene where he could calm down without being teased more for his emotions. Since that day, he had followed his savior around like a lost puppy, wanting to be everywhere he was.
The jealousy as well as the hug were shattered by Cartman's calm, collected voice. "I see your boyfriends back, Kyle. That's so sweet."
Kyle released Stan. "I see last week's pop tart decided to make its deposit on your ass." He quickly shot back.
"Oh, oh, you hear that, Stan?" Cartman asked tauntingly. "Kyle's been looking at my ass."
"It's kind of hard not to when you leave the room! You really should attach a warning beep to that wide load so people know when you're backing up."
"You know something, Kyle?" Cartman's voice was still calm. "Since you're apparently the girl in your relationship, I can officially call you a bitch!"
"Fuck you!"
"Bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch!" He teased in a singsong voice.
"What relationship?" Stan asked, not following the argument at all. "You have a girlfriend?"
"No." Kyle answered.
"He has a boyfriend." Cartman added.
"Dude!" Stan exclaimed.
"I do not!" Kyle defended himself.
"Oh I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Cartman apologized. "I didn't know Stan wanted to be the girl."
"What the hell is he talking about?" Stan now wore a confused frown.
Kyle kept his sardonic expression locked on Cartman as he answered. "Cartman's on some kind of stupidity trip and thinks he's a psychic. He's been making lame-ass predictions all week."
Stan's confused frown deepened "So, what's that have to do with you having a boyfriend?"
"I predicted yours and Kyle's dirty little secret." Cartman chimed in.
"What dirty little secret?"
"He thinks we're in love with each other." Kyle confirmed.
"What!" Stan shrieked. "That's not true!"
"But it will be." Cartman stated. "You two are so gay anyone could see it."
"Why do you think that!" Stan was, without a doubt, completely alarmed.
Kyle didn't seem upset by it at all, just irritated. "Because he's fat and he's stupid."
"I'm not fat, Goddamnit!"
Kyle smirked and faced Stan again. "Just ignore it, he can't predict shit he already knows about. I think all the blubber is blocking brain signals." The two began laughing at the thought.
"Oh yeah? I shall prove my abilities." Cartman placed his index and middle finger of each hand to his temples and closed his eyes. "I predict that… our teacher wont be in today and Mr. Mackey will have to fill in because a mob of pissed off eighth graders are holding the substitutes hostage."
Kenny joined them at that point, to which he was greeted solely by Stan.
Kyle rolled his eyes at Cartman's prediction. "What a load of bullshit."
"Twenty bucks, Kyle!"
"You're on!"
"Jesus Christ, you guys. If I didn't know any better, I'd say the two of you were in love with each other." Stan interjected, to which Kenny began laughing.
"Fuck you!" They cursed in unison.
Butter's watched the four as they walked away, completely forgetting he had been standing there the whole time.
The four friends sat in a row in the middle of their sixth grade classroom, continuing to argue between each other about Cartman's "powers".
They turned their attention toward the front of the class when they heard the door swing open. Mr. Mackey stepped inside and faced the students. "I'm afraid I have some bad news, m'kay. Your teacher is out sick, and I couldn't get a fill in because there's a mob of angry seventh graders holding all the substitutes hostage. So, I'll be filling in myself, m'kay?"
Stan's jaw dropped and Cartman laughed heartily.
"I told you!"
Kyle still wasn't convinced. "You said eighth graders and they're seventh graders!"
"You're so stupid, Kyle." Cartman accused. "So maybe I was off a little, but I was right about everything else."
"He was right." Stan agreed in shock.
"You don't actually believe this crap do you?" Kyle asked him.
"Yeah, do you?" Kenny parroted. "He heard them talking about it."
"Did not." Cartman argued.
"Did so!" Kyle shot back. "Your whole life revolves around getting one over on me, making me feel bad or pissing me off!"
"That may be so," He readily agreed. "But I'm not the one blushing like a sissy girl. I think the real issue here is the fact that you know I'm right."
"Cartman, you're a big, fat, stupid pussy and nobody likes you!"
Cartman's smile never faltered. "You're kinda hot when you're pissed. Isn't he Stan?"
"Very hot!" Kenny agreed, clearly finding their argument and Eric's teasing extremely amusing.
Stan's jaw still hung open in disbelief. He never answered the teasing question.
-BratChild3 (Lisha)
