Chapter Thirty-Three - Always.

The dull ache that sat in his ribs and the aggravating pounding of his head were all still bugging Stan as he tossed two paracetamol into the back of his throat and swallowed them with a swig of water. Cringing as he did so, he clutched at the pain in his side and collapsed back into the couch where he was sitting. As he glanced slightly around the room, Stan leant forward the tiniest bit and placed the empty glass of water on the coffee table in front of him.

And then, with a deep sigh, Stan flicked his eyes to the left and glimpsed at Kyle where he was sitting beside him.

The two teenagers were sitting in the administration cabin right at the front of the camping ground. They were waiting for Coach Hasler to come and confront them about their fight with Griffin and Connor. The last that either of them had seen of the older man was when he had disappeared into the meeting room by the front desk – the same meeting room where Stan knew that Wendy and their school nurse, Nurse Reynolds, had previously entered.

Stan felt his stomach turn. The only other thing that he knew for certain was that Nurse Reynolds had searched through Griffin's phone and confirmed that he was in possession of a topless photo of Wendy.

What happened after that, Stan still didn't know. And it absolutely terrified him to find out.

Suddenly being snapped from his trance, Stan blinked and looked back to Kyle as the Jewish boy winced in pain and brought the icepack he was holding back to his mouth. The bleeding from the cut on Kyle's lip had stopped by now, but it was still quite swollen.

Stan felt a sharp guilt cross him. He and Kyle hadn't really spoken much to one another since the fight, and the quarterback knew he owed his best friend much more than that.

Sighing to himself again, Stan parted his lips to speak, "You good, dude?"

Looking over to lock his eyes with Stan's, Kyle was quiet for a second before he slowly nodded his head, "Yeah. Just trying to figure out how I'm going to explain it to my mum, I guess."

Stan shuddered at Kyle's words. In any normal circumstance, each of the boys would certainly agree that none of their parents were anywhere near as intimidating as Sheila Broflovski. But this wasn't any regular old circumstance. And Stan would be willing to bet just about anything that given the context of the punch-up, no-one was going to angrier than Sharon.

But that didn't mean that Stan still hadn't landed Kyle in just as much trouble, too.

"Well, look, thanks…" Stan trailed off for a split second before shaking his head at how forced his apology sounded, "Seriously, thank you, dude, for jumping in with me back there. You know you didn't have to."

Kyle smiled at Stan and the genuine tone in his voice before his smirk slipped to slight sarcasm, "Yeah, well, what kind of best friend would I be if I just stood back and let you get your ass kicked?"

Chuckling at his friend's arrogance, Stan rolled his eyes, "You know what the ironic thing is, right?" he asked, "Before any of this shit happened, the only punch-ups that either of us had ever been in were with each other."

As he eyes widened in realisation, Kyle burst out laughing, with Stan soon joining him. The red-head brought his hand back to his lip as his laughter quickly turned to groans at the pain that the action caused him. He shook his head, "Clearly we were just training each other for tougher future opponents."

A joking expression lit up in Stan's features, "Oh, please," he droned, "I'll bet I could take you way faster than I took that heap of shit."

Kyle narrowed his eyes at Stan's smug words, "Oh, really?" he challenged, "Do you wanna' set something up, bro? Name a time and place – I'll take you any day, anywhere!"

Chuckling wildly all over again at the witty back and forth between he and his best friend, Stan felt another retort creep across his tongue, until all of a sudden, he was brought to a skidding halt. A sense of dull reality crashed down onto his shoulders as Coach Hasler abruptly appeared out of his blind spot and took a seat on the table in front of him and Kyle.

The grin fell from Stan's lips quicker than it had in his whole life. He had been so distracted by the banter between him and Kyle that he almost completely forgot exactly what had gotten them into this whole mess in the first place.

As Coach Hasler flicked his vision between the two teenagers, Stan gulped.

"So, boys, who would care to start?"

As nervous as Stan may have been feeling, his voice sprung to life in his throat immediately, "It was all me, Coach. This is all my fault."

Kyle leaned forward, shaking his head, "Dude – "

"Kyle was only trying to have my back," Stan went on, cutting his friend off.

Slowly nodding his head, Coach Hasler ran his hand down his face as he cleared his throat, "You know, it was a pretty gallant thing for you to call out the Malibu punk like that. But why would you risk your spot here on this team for it?"

Stan sighed, reluctantly licking his lips. He wasn't sure if his answer was going to sound childish to the older man or not, but quite simply, it was the most honest excuse he had to offer, "She's my girlfriend, Coach. I wasn't going to let that happen to her."

Allowing Stan's words to settle within him for a moment or two, Coach Hasler remained still. He seemed to be hesitating, running his hand over his stubbled chin as he mused silently to himself before nodding his head in understanding.

"Look, you're one hell of a footballer," he spoke, staring directly at Stan. A small smile crossed him, "And you're a good kid, Stan."

Stan instantly sensed himself beam in happiness at the proud words his coach was bestowing upon him. It was the biggest relief for him to not be yelled and screamed at, but still, the quarterback was frozen with baited breath as Coach Hasler carried on.

"I'm not going to send you home," he finally revealed, looking to Kyle, too, "Either of you. But you will both be missing the next game. You're to stay in your cabin, and you're benched," he commanded, pointing to Kyle and Stan respectively, "Is that clear?"

"Crystal," Kyle instantly replied.

"Absolutely. Thanks, Coach," Stan added with a grateful smile. He was just about to open his mouth and speak again, but before another single sound could be uttered from anyone, the door to the meeting room suddenly creaked open.

Stan instantly shot up to his feet and felt his heart skip a beat of dreadful anticipation as Nurse Reynolds walked through the door, closely followed by Wendy. A jolt of electricity went rushing through him as Wendy glanced across the room and found his eyes with hers for a fleeting moment. Her expression was so hard to read from this far away. Was she still miserable? Was she angry, happy, relieved? Stan couldn't tell, but he was pretty damn desperate to find out.

Nurse Reynolds looked be attempting to lead Wendy back to her cabin, but the teenage girl stopped her, gesturing subtly over to Stan. The dark haired boy felt his chest race as the older woman followed Wendy's glance. She murmured to her for a second, before Wendy nodded her head that she was sure and she was okay.

Stan was so fixated on her that he jumped in slight surprise as Coach Hasler suddenly patted his shoulder and shot him one final, supportive smirk before walking away. In the next moment, he heard Kyle clear his throat from behind him, as well.

"Good luck, dude."

And then, Stan and Wendy were left with absolutely no-one else but one another as she slowly began to stroll over towards him from the opposite side of the room. Stan gulped, sitting back down as Wendy finally reached him.

"Hey," he offered lamely.

Wendy took a seat beside him, "Hey."

Locking their expressions together for an awkward few instances, their eyes fell away from one another. In the very next second, both Stan and Wendy opened their mouths and began to ask the exact same question at the exact same time.

"Are you okay…"

They both trailed off, shooting a small smile at one another. Stan licked his bottom lip.

"I'm fine," he spoke.

Despite his gentle words, Wendy narrowed her eyes at the slight bruising that had already developed in shades of horrible blues and purples under his left ear.

"You're not fine, look at your face," she shot back, timidly bringing her tender touch to the side of his head, "What did your coach say to you?"

Stan tried not to get too hypnotically lost in the sensation of Wendy's fingertips against his skin as he answered her, "He's not sending me home. Me or Kyle," he stumbled for a second, "But… uh… but I am benched for our next game…"

Taking her hand away from his face, a sadness crossed Wendy's features as she sighed guiltily, "Stan…"

"Wendy, no, it's fine. I don't care. It's not your fault," he assured her. He paused, taking a deep breath, "What happened in there? With the coaches and with Nurse Reynolds?"

Tearing her vision away from the dull bruising on his face, Wendy could only shoot her head down to the floor beneath her feet. She couldn't bear to look at him. She simply couldn't bear to face the care and concern and love in his eyes and then explain to him everything that had just happened.

Somehow, though, amongst all the bravery she had already pulled out of herself that afternoon, Wendy managed to glance back up at Stan and blow out a shaky breath. The young couple still had a million and one other things that they needed to discuss. And Wendy knew that none of that could be properly resolved until she told him everything else that he needed to hear.

Her voice tremoured as she spoke, "Nurse Reynolds found the photo," she said with a simple shrug of her shoulders, "Griffin's coach completely flipped out at him. He's packing his bags right now and then he's getting sent home."

Stan sensed the greatest possible relief consume him, "Thank God," he huffed out with a genuine smile.

"Yeah," Wendy agreed. She grinned back for a moment before her face fell again, "Um… they called my parents… they totally freaked out, but they sort of calmed down a little once I told them I was okay," she sighed, "I explained to them what happened. Everything from last night until now."

Stan's stomach twisted up into anxious knots. When Wendy said she had told her mother and father everything, did that include all the parts involving him, too? All the confrontations and the threats, the post-game punch-up… everything?

Stan's mouth echoed his thoughts as he swallowed, "Everything? What I did to him, too?"

Instantly twigging to what he was nervously hinting at, Wendy held in a giggle as she smiled the smallest possible smile at him, "Dad said he has a handshake and a cold beer waiting for you when we get home."

Matching Wendy's amused expression, Stan felt his chest inflate with reprieve. Considering his last slight run-in with her father, it definitely felt good to hear that he was now back in Mr. Testaburger's good books.

"Well, I guess at least he doesn't hate me anymore," the dark haired teenager joked. He gazed at Wendy with sympathetic eyes, "So… they called the police?"

Once again, Wendy was silent. She tried to avoid Stan's intense stare as she mulled over the best possible way to phrase what she was about to say. It wasn't so much that she regretted what it was that she had to tell him. Wendy just knew it was going to be the absolute last thing that Stan would want to hear – and certainly something that he wouldn't agree with.

As she chewed down on her bottom lip in hesitation, and Stan's expression already began to morph to displeasure, Wendy gulped, "Well, they wanted to…"

Stan's face immediately scrunched up in incensed shock, "No, Wendy, seriously? Again?"

"This is my decision, Stan. My dad's going to file an order of protection against him so he can't ever contact me again, which is fine, but I do not want to go to the police," the raven haired girl shot back as her volume began to climb, "I'm not going to fly all the way back down there and then tell my side of the story to, like, ten different cops and then still maybe have to go to court and tell it all to a judge and jury if he turns around and says he didn't do, I just can't handle – "

"Okay, okay," Stan spoke, raising his hands as he tried to ease her. He sighed, his mind still whirling, "But what about all the other people at that school who are still going to have the picture from when he sent it to them?"

Heaving her shoulders again, Wendy awkwardly scratched the back of her arm, "Griffin's coach told my parents he was going to keep in contact with them and talk to my old principal about doing some kind of school-wide crackdown on bullying material and cell phones."

Stan's guts were still bubbling in disgust. He supposed the plan that had been built was better than nothing, and it was nice to know that Wendy's old school were on her side. But the lack of certainty in it all still nagged at him.

"Nurse Reynolds also suggested that…" Wendy suddenly spoke again, "That… maybe I should have a couple of sessions with the school counsellor when we get back home."

Instantly forgetting all else in that moment, Stan's appearance softened. He slowly nodded his head and shot Wendy a supportive smile, "Oh, good. That sounds like a really good idea."

"Mhm," Wendy agreed, her voice barely coming to a mutter.

Stan watched her as she sort of wriggled uncomfortably where she sat, gripping onto the edge of the couch cushion. In the very next second, she snapped her neck up and pierced him with a timid dullness in her brown orbs.

"Is it hard?"

Stan felt his heart splinter and a haunting shiver race up his spine.

His own previous experiences seeing his counsellor back in South Park were something he hadn't thought about in a long, long time. Doctor Neal had seemed pretty nice at first. But Stan had just had his heart completely torn out, ripped up into tiny little pieces, stepped on and set on fire. He didn't want to talk to anybody about it – he only wanted to hurt himself.

Stan shuddered. He shut his eyes and shook his head for a fleeting moment, ridding his mind of its past thoughts and emotions. In the end, once he actually managed to open up, he saw Doctor Neal continuously for about six months in all. Towards the end of his visits, they became much less regular, but it had still felt like a breath of fresh air for him to be able to freely speak to an unbiased third party about all he had gone through.

He knew without a doubt that the same thing could work for Wendy. As much as she would always have her mother and Bebe and, of course, him – none of that could really compare to the professional help and comfort that she may very well have needed.

Glimpsing at her gently, Stan shook his head again, "It might feel that way at first. You've just really gotta' be willing to open up and talk about everything, okay?"

Without saying anything, Wendy simply looked at Stan with grateful eyes and nodded her head.

They both slipped back into silence as their minds continued to cycle. As quiet as the air and space all around them in the lounge may have been, Stan and Wendy were both being absolutely deafened by the sound of their own thoughts screaming at them inside their brains.

This was the longest conversation that they had managed with one another ever since their yelling match in Stan's living room two days. And still, they were yet to even scratch the surface of their disagreement. Why the hell was it that they had been able to kiss each other no more than a couple of hours ago, but now they were having trouble initiating some simple dialogue about how they were both feeling?

Whatever the reason may have been, both teenagers were quickly beginning to reach the end of their stubborn impatience. And in the next moment, Stan and Wendy found themselves unintentionally speaking in unison again.

"I'm sorry…"

The young couple froze, staring at one another. Stan was the first to raise a surprised eyebrow.

"What are you sorry for?"

Wendy's expression widened. She took a second or two to decide whether or not Stan was being serious, until she finally chuckled at her boyfriend in disbelief, "Um, for starting this whole ridiculous argument? For being insanely jealous and for ignoring you and… basically for just being a bitch."

"Wendy," Stan sniped at her, "You are not bitch, you could never be a bitch. And I ignored you, too, remember?" he countered, swivelling in his place on the couch to get closer to her, "I'm sorry. I should've been more understanding about the whole Darcy thing and how it made you feel."

They both cringed slightly at the first mention of the auburn haired troublemaker since their explosive fight before Stan went on.

"And I get it now, I totally get why that would upset you, okay? I know I should have told you what she and I had done before you and me did anything…" his sentence wandered off for a second as he sighed, "But I meant it when I said that she didn't mean anything to me. That's why I never said anything to you – I completely forgot everything about her the second I got you back."

A long-awaited happiness was slowly beginning to creep its way back through Wendy's soul as her face lit up more and more with each word that Stan was speaking to her. But despite how sweet each syllable tasted as they danced off the end of his tongue, Stan still couldn't shake an incredibly sick feeling churning in the pit of his stomach.

And he knew exactly why.

"And… about what I said… what I called you…" the teenager felt his guts twist and turn as Wendy's expression faded at the harsh memory, "Wendy, I was just angry. I was furious, and I know that's not an excuse, but… I didn't mean it. I've never thought that about you, no matter what's happened in the past, and I never will."

Wendy could swear that she almost see every single word literally pour its way out of Stan's heart as he spoke to her. And yet, he wasn't saying anything that she wasn't already aware of. As much as the insult may have stung at the time that he fired it at her, Wendy knew instantly that he hadn't meant it.

Any other guy in the whole world may have been able to seriously fly off the handle and say something with such cruel purpose, but never Stan. Wendy wouldn't love him so much, otherwise.

"I know," she murmured, forcing a half-smile his way.

It hadn't been the first time that Wendy had heard a word like 'skank' or 'slut' being directed at her, and as the true reality of every topsy-turvy rollercoaster event from the whirlwind past two days began to dawn on her, the teenage girl sucked in a deep breath and choked on a sob.

"It doesn't matter. I've only ever thought those things about myself anyway," she stuttered out, watching Stan's soft features crumble as she spoke, "I mean, I always grew up with such a feminist attitude and said I was always going to respect myself and respect my body, but then… to just give it all to him like that…"

There was no more holding back for Wendy as the tears pooling in her eyes finally began to freely fall into her lap.

"I've never been m-more dis-disgusted with myself…"

Sensing his heart completely snap in two and feeling the sharp fragments pierce his chest, Stan viciously shook his head as he reached out to Wendy and tenderly clutched at her thigh.

"No, no, Wendy, it's okay," he shushed her.

Quickly glancing around the lounge area, Stan soon found that his girlfriend's tearful sobs were beginning to attract a few too many pairs of curious eyes. Gritting his teeth together in frustration, he snatched Wendy's hand up in his and gently pulled her up from the couch.

"C'mon," he quietly beckoned her, leading her out the front door, down the steps and around the corner of the cabin.

As they reached the back wall of the wooden structure, down a narrow sort of alley and well out of the way from where anyone could see them or even find them, Stan allowed Wendy to lean up against it. He stood in front of her, leaning down comfortingly and pulling his sleeve over his hand so he could wipe her eyes for her.

"Shh, come on, Wendy, don't cry."

Blowing out a cool breath from in between her lips, Wendy slowly started to calm herself down as she replaced Stan's gentle touch and wiped her own face. The dark haired boy continued to stare down at her as she did – her last awful words about herself still revolving in his mind and blending a sour combination of sadness and guilt in his guts.

Tucking a loose strand of silky, black hair behind Wendy's ear, Stan opened his mouth to speak. He didn't even need to hesitate his next words.

"You know if you want to… slow down," he began, instantly gaining Wendy's attention, "Like, if you want to just stop everything we've been doing with each other and not start your pill right now and just re-set and take things slower… all you have to do is say the word."

With her lips parted and her jaw near enough on the ground at her feet, Wendy gazed up at Stan in total amazement and disbelief. Her voice box could barely utter a single sound as she cleared her throat, "You would do that for me?"

Stan could only nod his head, watching as the cogs in Wendy's mind began to turn over.

"You are the sweetest…" she paused, "The sweetest man I have ever met in my entire life."

The quarterback's face flushed an uncomfortably hot shade of red as the first blush in two whole days filled his cheeks to the brim. The pink complexion was one quickly crossing Wendy as well.

The teenage girl may have made a million mistakes in the past, and she may have regretted everything she ever did with Griffin… but with Stan? Her first kiss when she was just eight years old, and the love of her life since then?

Not a chance.

"But if you seriously think I don't want to… fornicate with you at any possible moment, then you are out of your mind."

The giggles that exploded from Wendy's throat as she stood up on her tippy toes and brushed her nose against her boyfriends were all too contagious as Stan mimicked her laughter and finally pulled her in for a tight hug, "Well, thank God…"

Their sweet laughter echoed in the small space where they had parked themselves. Stan could almost swear that he had never embraced Wendy more closely or securely. And still, it didn't feel close enough as he suddenly flexed the muscles in his arms and lovingly lifted her off the ground.

The raven haired beauty's giddy giggles only increased as she cuddled her boyfriend back just as snugly. Eventually as he placed her back on the ground and Wendy's feet thudded on the grass beneath her, one final guilty thought similarly thudded into the forefront of her mind.

With their arms still firmly around one another, Wendy nestled her head into Stan's chest as he ran one hand devotedly through her gorgeous black locks. She sighed. It felt beyond incredible to have made up with Stan and to be holding him so close again. Wendy was all too aware that the both of them had short, fiery tempers, but the teenager was willing to do anything in her power to see that she and Stan never, ever fought that badly with one another again.

But Wendy knew that couldn't be done until every inch of the slate from this argument had been wiped clean. Keeping her head resting against him, the teenage girl brought her voice timidly back to life.

"I never meant to compare you to him," she mumbled, "That's not what I was trying to say, I just… like… Stan, he doesn't even come close to – "

"Hey, hey," he hushed her once more, "It's okay. Forget about it."

Wendy's heart thumped with light reprieve in her chest as Stan loosened his grip on her and pulled back. Staring down into the beautifully deep chocolate colour of her eyes with all the love in the world, the teenage boy tenderly cupped his girlfriend's face and rubbed her left cheek with his thumb.

He was never going to go so long without speaking to her ever again.

"I love you," he promised her, "So much."

Wendy's heart was racing. She could sense the passionate warmth flowing from his pores to hers with every word he spoke.

"I know," she replied with a smile, "I love you, too. I always have."

Stan grinned right back.

"I know."

At long last, the gap between them came to a close as Stan leant down and caught Wendy's lips with his. They both shut their eyes tightly and simply indulged in the exchange that tasted a million times sweeter than how it had only a couple of hours ago on the sideline of the football field.

Wendy could feel Stan's gentle hold on the sides of her face grow more affectionate with each tender peck he swapped with her. She slinked her arms further around his torso and lapped at him over and over again, teasingly licking his bottom lip as she did.

Right as she dared to dive deeper into their adoring exchange, Stan suddenly made an uncomfortable groaning noise as he felt his stomach churn and he pulled back from Wendy.

Gazing up at him in surprise, Wendy frowned.

"What's wrong?"

With his eyes still closed for a second, Stan peeked down at Wendy and boldly smirked at her again.

"…Trying not to throw up."

Within an instant, the corners of Wendy's mouth turned up in the most amused smile that had possibly ever crossed her.

"Still?"

As she continued to laugh at him, Stan rolled his eyes.

Just when it was beginning to seem that parts of their relationship had irreversibly chipped off and were crumbling away for good, Stan and Wendy had been able to snap themselves out of it and firmly piece their love back together. Just as they always had.

But despite how much they had been able to fix and modify and mend – some things would just never, ever change.

"Always."

The single word response from her boyfriend gave Wendy goosebumps that only intensified as Stan tugged her back in towards him and kissed her all over again.

Nothing and no-one was ever going to come between them again.

Happy New Year everyone! Consider this adorably sappy and cute new chapter only five days after the last update my New Year's gift to you all :D

What did you all think? Please feel free to leave me a review and let me know what you thought about how perfectly sweet and loving Stan and Wendy were in this chapter (and will hopefully manage to remain, now!)

Thanks guy! I truly appreciate it :) There's still a fewwww more chapters to go (maybe four? Don't quote me on that), so I'll see you all again soon.

Till next time guys,

Reneyyyyyyyyy x