Chapter 12- Kyle has Rabies.
Don't be a pussy, Marsh. Don't cry… don't cry… for the love of God, don't cry…
His mental coaching wasn't helping. Tears formed behind his eyes, but he silenced them with deep breaths. It stunk like piss and the words "Fuck you, faggot" were scratched across the wall. He blinked at it, seeing the words but unable to process its meaning. It stared back at him in a smoky haze, like someone had actually been offended and was stupid enough to try and scrub it off. His crystalline eyes scanned over the message a second time, this time taking root in his brain.
Faggot…
He choked on a dry sob and pressed his face to his raised knees. It didn't bother him, not the words and not the smell. There were far bigger issues at hand. If his outburst ten minutes ago were any concern, he would be afraid he were a spastic psycho. Even if he were, fuck it. The only thing that mattered to him was the look on Kyle's face after he was told they weren't best friends anymore. It was enough to make the coldest, most unfeeling bastard cry, and he wondered shortly if Cartman had been affected at all.
The sound of the boys bathroom door swinging open and whooshing closed again made him jump in reflex. The soles of his shoes hit the old, cracked tile with an echoing smack, putting a stop to the footsteps he could hear sneaking closer. He quickly pulled his knees back up to his chest, resting his feet on the toilet seat he was perched upon. His eyes squeezed closed as a silent prayer whispered through his lips, begging this person to fuck off.
Nothing ever came easy for a Marsh…
A soft knock was issued, followed by a voice he knew all too well. "Stan, i-is that you?"'
Just go away…I don't need you, I don't want you… Please, just go away…
"Aw, c'mon, Stan," the voice begged after an extended period of silence. "You can talk ta me. I-I aint gonna laugh at you or-or nothin'. I promise."
The tears found their way through his tightly shut eyelids, steaming down his cheeks like identical waterfalls. Son of a bitch! His mind screamed as his palm cracked against the side of the stall.
"Stan?" Butters asked, frantic concern now laced within. "If you don't open the door, I-I'll knock it down. Boy, will I."
Fuck off! A sob hiccupped its way out. God, Kyle, I'm sorry…
"Okay, Stan," Butters warned. "I'm comin' in."
Stan listened to his footsteps as he walked slowly backward and then lunged forward, slamming himself against the stall door.
It didn't budge.
"Ow." The blonde announced simply. There was complete silence, save Stan's light sniffles before he tried again. "I-if you don't come outta there right now, I'll… I-I'll make Kenny come get you!"
"Go away." He answered the threat in a dull, lifeless tone.
"I thought we were friends," it was voiced with soft disappointment. "H-how can we be friends i-if you don't trust me none?"
Stan opened his eyes slowly. The tears were less, allowing him peace, however small it was.
"I know I'm not Kyle," the other side of the stall informed. "A-and I'm not gonna try and be. But I promise to be the best friend I can. You just have ta let me in first, otherwise I-I guess I'm not doing a very good job."
Maybe it was the sincerity in his voice, the need to have a friend, or it could have even been that the stench was finally overpowering his better judgment, any way you looked at it, he caved in.
What the hell am I doing? He thought, even as he reached out with a trembling hand and unlatched the door to the stall he hid in.
Butters stood at the other end, clearly surprised he hadn't been shunned. It made Stan want to laugh and cry and scoff all at the same time. The poor kid was so fucked up and didn't even realize it. That pissed him off because he was fucked up, and it made him wonder how long he had been and never knew it.
"I heard w-what you said ta Kyle." Butters stated simply, rubbing nervously at his hand. "What'dya do that for?"
Stan closed his eyes painfully. "I just can't deal with him right now."
"You're r-really not friends anymore?" Stan shook his head. "Gee, Stan, maybe you should just hump him a-an get it over with." He paused, completely overlooking Stan's mortification before concluding with an after thought. "Kenny told me ta say that."
Stan blew out a breath and snorted a short laugh of relief, thankful his situation wasn't that obvious. "Did he also tell you to find me?" He purposely directed the conversation further away from Kyle, not feeling up to pouring his heart out to his new friend just yet.
"No, n-not exactly." Butters admitted. "He wouldn't let me up. He kept on sayin' that I-I'd feel really good if I stayed with him."
"Yeah, I'll bet." Stan rolled his eyes sarcastically. He stepped off the porcelain bowl before giving word of advice. "Just never go into a closet with him."
"H-how come, does he bite?" Butters followed like a shadow to the sinks, where he watched Stan's reflection for an answer.
"Yeah, he bites alright. I had a hickey last month that proved it." He turned on the cold tap water, splashing his face a few times. "God damn sexaholic branded me in my sleep. That's the last time I buy his, 'Can I crash here? My parents are fucking too loud' line."
Butters gasped dramatically, eyes wide and vivid. "He's r-really a Dracula, huh? My parents always said," He scrunched up his face, imitating the stern look his dad always wore. "Somethin's wrong with that McCormick kid. He's not right, I'm telling you, he's just not right." His face immediately relaxed into his usual concern. "Y-you don't think I-I'm one of him now that he touched me, do yah?" He grabbed frantically at the crook of his neck. "Cause I-I think I felt his mouth right here."
"Jesus Christ," Stan huffed. "nothing's wrong with Kenny. He's just a horny bastard." He promised.
"Oh," Butters pondered, allowing Stan a few steps toward the bathroom door before darting to follow. "I was just thinking' somthin'." He informed, all thoughts of "Dracula's" vanishing suddenly. "How come every time someone gets upset they hide in the toilet? Huh, Stan? W-what would you go and do that for?"
Stan covered his eyes with his hand, exasperated already. But, instead of getting mad at the stupidity, he pulled his hand away from his face and placed it around Butters shoulder in a brotherly gesture, "Lets play some basketball before we have to go back to class."
"Oh, well, gosh, that sounds swell a-and everythin', but I don't really know how to play all that good."
"That's okay, I can teach you." He offered.
For once, he was actually able to push Kyle out of his mind. Maybe hanging out with the melvin would be good for him. Maybe it could teach him something more about innocence. Jesus knew South Park didn't have enough of that.
"God damnit, I am so pissed off!" Cartman's shout, as well as pounding fists echoed through his room, momentarily drowning out the sound of night insects. "Those assholes are such pussies! They always have to screw everything up for me!" he leaned his cheek against his palm with a huff, his anger dwindling when he glanced down at the picture of Wendy on his desk.
It was outdated.
So outdated, she didn't even have tits yet. He had stolen it from Stan when him and Wendy were still going out in the fourth grade. Maybe he could get a new one without having to steal it this time. This was thought with a smile, until once again his musings turned to the matter at hand. It wouldn't ever happen if Stan didn't stop sissy screaming at Kyle.
"Son of a bitch!" He thundered. "This is such bull crap! I was suppose to be able to say, 'Stan, I was just fucking with you' and he was suppose to call me a fat ass and cling to Kyle like a dick weed again. Now I have to actually be nice and help the assholes or Wendy wont go out with me." He slipped off his chair a waddled to his bed.
"Clyde frog, I-" He sighed. "I'd rather chew off my own dick than help Kyle."
The toy stared back, as if thinking up some fountain of wisdom. "I know it's super weak, but what other choice do I have?" Another brief pause filled the room as he listened to his dolls inner voice. "No I can't just say 'screw the hippie'. It's not that simple anymore." He looked thoughtful before adding, "I think I might actually… love her." He glowered angrily. "And Goddamnit, if you laugh I swear to God I'll chop off your nuts!"
It felt weird to say he loved her out loud. Weird and strangely relieving. He had toyed with the idea some, contemplated it, but never took it too seriously. Now that it was actually voiced, the idea didn't sound quite as far-fetched as it originally had.
"This is my chance, Clyde Frog," Cartman spoke seriously. "Wendy will go out with me, but- and this is a very big but- I have to hook the fags up." He got up from the edge of his bed, padding over to his window to peer out. "This is going to be a tough mission. They're obviously both having their periods. The PMS is so strong even Kenny's ghetto stench can't overpower it, and there's no sign of it stopping anytime soon." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully,
stopping suddenly and spinning around to look at his stuffed toy. "Bribe them with chocolate? That's a great idea, Clyde Frog. Chicks love chocolate!"
"It's over, Kenny." Kyle's voice was low, lacking any and all emotion. He sat on his porch, elbows resting on his knees and chin lain against his palms. "From now on, I have to get used to life without Stan."
Kenny placed a brown-gloved hand on the redheads shoulder. "Not necessarily."
He blinked heavily. Obviously he hadn't slept a wink, and every minute was now evident in his eyes that drooped and the rings of purple under them. "I wish I knew what I did. I thought we were tight, you know? I thought… nothing could come between us."
"Well, can you blame him?" Kenny questioned. "Butters gives me a woody wood pecker, too."
Kyle rolled his eyes. "Everything does."
He thought this over, finally scrunching his nose in disgust. "Not everything."
"What am I going to do?" Kyle was already focused on Stan once again.
"We've been friends so long, I don't know how to stop being his friend. How can I just ignore him? How do I forget?"
Without missing a second, Kenny pressed closer and caressed downward. "Meet me in the janitors closet first period. When you come out, you wont even be able to walk straight, let alone remember what a 'Stan' is."
Kyle pushed at him, accomplishing absolutely nothing. Kenny was like a leach, once he latched on there was no possible way to get him off. "Goddamnit, Kenny, cant you have one conversation without turning it into sex?"
Kenny pause, still holding tight and decided, "I don't know. Never tried it."
A low, incredibly pissed growl emitted from Kyle's lips as he continued to try and pry the low class boy off.
"Hello, Kyle," Cartman's overly pleasant, 'I'm-up-to-more-bullshit' tone was in tact as he greeted the frustrated Jew.
"Fuck off, fatass!" He immediately wailed.
"But Kyle, I'm here to-"
"I don't care what you're doing here or why. God damnit, Cartman, you made Stan hate me! I never want to see you again, unless it's at your funeral so I can spit on your cold, dried up corpse!"
Cartman stared back blankly before pulling a box of chocolates from behind his back. "I'm hurt you feel that way, Kyle. I brought these for you, to show you I'm sorry for what I did. I do hope you can forgive me."
Kyle was -at first- surprised. He accepted the box of chocolates before scowling even deeper. "You sick bastard!" He screeched, baffling both Cartman and Kenny equally. "You only bought these because sugar is like poison to diabetics and you want me dead!"
"Oh, God damnit," Cartman sighed. He had completely forgotten that little fact. "You're always eating candy!"
"It's sugar free!"
"I'll eat it." Kenny snatched the unwanted treats away, immediately going to work on the cellophane wrapping.
"Kyle, we both need something," He spoke over the crinkling noise. "Help me to help you. If you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours."
"That's not really an even trade since your back's the size of a house!"
"God damnit, you fucking son of a bitch!"
Kenny watched on, completely un-phased by the obvious tension and popping chocolates into his mouth.
"You want your overly-sensitive, ass ramming boyfriend back, don't you!"
"Would you shut the hell up about the gay remarks?"
"Stan is hot for you." He stressed. "I know it, Jesus knows it, even Kenny knows it!"
The mentioned boy paused with his mouth open, a chocolate half way to it's destination.
"Kenny?" Kyle asked, looking hurt his 'friend' would actually be siding with the fat-ass.
"I didn't say anything." He gave a shrug, stuffing three more candies into his mouth to create an excuse not to talk.
"Why the hell do you think he's ignoring you? It's your voice, Kyle, your voice gives him a stiffy!"
"How the hell would you know something like that?" Kyle demanded.
"It's only obvious. Did you even see his face when you called his name in class yesterday? He nearly had an orgasm all over the place."
Kenny snorted a loud laugh, immediately covering his mouth to try and keep his food from flying everywhere.
"Don't encourage him!" Kyle insisted.
Kenny waved his hand in defense while he swallowed everything down, still choking on laughter. "I can't help it, Kyle, because it's true."
"If you don't believe us, just test him." Cartman suggested. "Pin him to the ground and start moaning in his ear or some stupid shit like that. Mark my words Kyle, he will shoot his load all over his pants."
"I am not going to try to arouse my best friend!" He swiped his hand outward, emphasizing his point.
"There are two things wrong with that, asshole! First, you don't have to try to "arouse" him, all you have to do is talk. And secondly, he isn't your best friend anymore! He fucking hates you, in case you've forgotten!"
Kyle's breathing had become more and more ragged, evidence of his growing anger until finally he let out a loud yell of complete hatred and lunged at Cartman, sending them both tumbling to the ground.
"Ah! Mad Jew, mad Jew!" He shouted, trying to avoid Kyle's flailing fists. "Oh my god, I'm going to get fag rabies!"
Kenny looked down at the box of sweets in his lap then over at his friends. It was a tough choice; Food or a chance to feel up Kyle. He finally shrugged and set the box to the side. He could eat it later, this was the chance of a lifetime.
He pulled off his gloves and rubbed his hands together in anticipation of what was about to come, and then leaned forward, grabbing Kyle by the back of his sweater and yanking him to his feet.
"I'm gonna kill him, I swear I'm gonna kill him!" He bellowed, trying to fight off Kenny. But Kenny was stronger than he looked, and was able to tackle Kyle to the ground and hold him down by straddling his lap and pinning his arms above his head.
"Let me up! That malicious bastard is dead! Dead!" He protested, struggling and wiggling around.
"Holy shit, yes!" Kenny cheered him on, clearly enjoying himself much more than he should.
Cartman pushed himself up and brushed off his clothes. "Goddamn Jew." He sputtered, kicking Kyle hard in the side and making him yelp in pain.
"Cartman, you asshole!" Kenny shouted, pulling Kyle up as he stood and enclosing him from behind so he couldn't attack again. "I'm holding him down so he wont hurt you, not so you can't beat the crap out of him!" He had taken hold of both Kyle's hands and crossed them against his chest, much like an invisible straight jacket.
"Fuck you, Kenny." He stated simply, his eyes still burning into Kyle's. "I don't care how you do it, just get Stan to start talking to you again. Kick his ass, kiss his ass, I don't give a flying fuck. But, you will not ruin my chance with Wendy, Goddamnit, or so help me I will kill you, Kyle!"
"I'm not afraid of you!"
"Ah, son of a bitch! I-" His anger evaporated suddenly as Wendy's face came to mind. "Kyle, please. You want your best friend back, and I want Wendy. I would do anything for her, and I know you would do the same for Stan. Don't give up on him just so I'll lose her. It's not worth it, because if it was, I would have given up on her so you would lose Stan."
"I already lost him!" Kyle reminded him. "And who's fault was that, huh Cartman? Yours!"
"Stan needs you, Kyle." He went on, still sincere. "Just like I knew he would totally ditch you, I know he doesn't want it this way. He just needs to know you don't hate him."
"Hate him for what?"
"For having a boner for you."
Kyle lunged at him again, ready to throw more punches, but was immediately drawn back against Kenny. "You are full of such crap!"
"For the last time, I'm telling the truth!"
"Just fuck off." Kenny ordered, finally getting pissed off himself.
"Fine! if that's how you want it, then screw you guys, I'm going home!" He took a few steps before closing his eyes and pausing briefly at the image flashing across his mind. "Oh God, no. Kyle," He turned. "Just don't… go look for him right now."
"Why not?"
Cartman winced, placing a hand to his forehead. "Because you wont like what you find."
"God damnit, Cartman! Just for that, I'm going to go look for him right now!"
"No, don't-"
"Right now!"
"Damnit, damnit!" He cursed as Kyle and Kenny slipped away.
"Cartman," Wendy's voice chimed, making him spin around quickly. She looked as if she were about to say something, but was quickly taken by surprise.
"Your eye," She commented. "It's all swollen again." She reached out gently and tested it with her fingertips.
He gave a slight, nervous laugh, trying not to let her notice the way he weakened under her touch. "Yeah, well… "
"Let me guess," She cut him off. "You were cookie slapped again."
He smiled. "They're tough cookies."
She shook her head, trying her best not to laugh. "And Jewish, too."
Now he was caught. "I… but…you see-"
"I know." She agreed. "It was a big ass cookie."
He smiled at her, but it faded out. "Wendy, I… I don't know if I can hold up my end of the deal. You see I-"
"Don't even want to try," She accused, all friendliness now gone.
"No, Wendy, you have it all wrong. I'm trying, but Kyle's an asshole, you see, and he's going to go find Stan, who's making out with Butters."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Kyle's about to see something that will totally destroy him." He explained. "I can feel it now, Wendy. Kyle has a boner for Stan, too."
"God, Cartman!"
"It's true! Just listen to me!" He yelled. "Something bad is going to happen."
"You seriously need to rethink your priorities." She stated. " A deal is a deal. If you can't fix what you've made a mess of, then my end of the deal is off, too. And I swear, you'd better cut this psychic bullshit, Cartman! It's not funny anymore."
"But, Wendy I-" He lowered his voice dramatically as she walked away. "I love you." He admitted on a breath. His eyes searched the ground solemnly before lighting up again, and with a snap of his fingers, voiced his thoughts.
"Butters."
"Oh my god, what the hell are you doing?"
"I'm gonna throw the basketball again."
"You're holding it all wrong. Maybe that's why you sucked so bad yesterday."
"Gee, I-I didn't even know there was a wrong way."
"Of course there's a wrong way."
Stan stepped up to Butters and readjusted the inexperienced boys hold on the basketball he clutched tightly.
"First, you've got to relax your grip, it's not going to run away, for Christ's sake."
"Oh, l-like this?"
"Yeah, that's good." Stan decided before slipping his hand beneath his students and moving it downward. "Now hold it here, and-" he readjusted the other hand. "Here. Perfect. Now when you throw it, push it off with force from your elbows, not your wrists. And aim-" He pressed the side of his face against Butters and peered at the basket. "Aim right there." He pointed.
"W-well, alright then, here goes nothin'."
Stan took a few steps back, allowing his friend space and watched the ball as it flew through the air and landed directly into the basket.
"Oh boy!" Butters whooped, bouncing around like the child he was inside. "Did yah see that, Stan? Huh, did yah?"
"Yeah," He agreed with a small laugh. "That was awesome, dude."
Butters gushed at the compliment. No one ever complimented him as much as Stan had. He always had something nice to say. He always knew how to make people feel wanted. It was just in his nature. And that's the thing Butters loved most of all about him.
He hadn't even noticed he had been rubbing his knuckles together -again- until he felt Stan grab his hands and hold them still.
"Do me a huge favor," He said, still holding tight and gazing into Butters very soul with those eyes that made him melt the most. "Stop doing that with your hands. It shows you're insecure, and you have nothing to be insecure about."
"That's an a-awful nice thing to say, S-Stan, but-"
"No," He repeated. "I know I gave you kind of a hard time before, but I've learned something today. A friend isn't just someone who's cool. And it's not just someone you like to hang out with. It's someone you care about, and who cares about you. It's someone who can laugh with you and cry with you. You may not think it, but you really came through for me. Losing my best friend… this is the hardest thing that's ever happened to me, and you know something? You're the only one who's been here for me, to make sure I was alright. You were ready to cry with me, and that makes a true friend."
Butters was smiling now, his stormy colored eyes looking brighter somehow. He was going to have to find a way to thank Eric for showing him that he was gay. Had it not been for that, this moment may not have existed. Not wanting to miss the moment and without a second thought, he leaned forward and locked his lips with Stan's.
Neither noticed Kyle and Kenny, frozen at the end of the blacktop, eyes wide, jaws dropped, and a broken heart for each.
-BratChild3 (Lisha)
