Hi everyone! Welcome to Chapter 10 of the Caretaker. Again, thanks so much for all the amazing reviews. I totally love writing this story and you all catch a lot of insightful aspects of this story too reading it. Some of you have already caught on that this story is really about addiction. On one hand it's about the person suffering from it (Kyle), but it is also about the loved-ones who suffer as a result too (Cartman). This chapter focuses more on that dynamic and how, as the addiction gets worse, Cartman can't help but feel that he's inevitably sinking with the ship and he has to find a way to cope and save himself as well.

Okay enough already. Please enjoy and review!

I looked around me, realizing I was in a tall corn field while the sun was setting. The sun seemed immense as it was setting and it's colors seemed to be burning against the field. It all seemed to be various shades of orange; almost too bright. It was kinda kick-ass, though.

Wait, why am I here? Well, whatever the fuck the reason was, it was pretty- not to sound gheyy or anything. It was also really quiet- almost eerily quiet, except for the wind. I stood still, not really looking at anything in particular and listened to the sound of the wind blowing through the field. It was so peaceful, almost musical. After the wind quieted down, I could hear something in the distance. Laughing? No, more like crying. It was coming from straight ahead. I took a few steps forward.

The crying sounds familiar.

Kyle?

I took a few more steps forward, listening attentively.

It was definitely Kyle.

I ran forward and when I knew I was there, I looked down and saw him laying on a blanket on his side, his back facing me. It looked like he was having a pick-nick or some shit; I saw a giant icebox open with the lid propped up against it. I peeked in. There was a giant bottle of tequila in there, open. Around the icebox and the Jew were a shit-ton of beer bottles. I saw an empty cardboard Dos Equis box as well as the 12 empty bottles scattered around his feet. I saw a few empty Jack Daniels and a couple finished Arrogant Bastards. Surprisingly I knew that the Jew hadn't passed out, since I could see his back shaking with his cries.

"Kahl?" I asked as I grabbed his shoulder and turned him over.

I jumped immediately as I screamed at the image of what I thought was the Jew.

His face and body were covered in deep gashes. He had a long horizontal cut in the corners of his mouth (like the Joker), he had bleeding X's on each cheek, multiple cuts on his neck, as well as deep gashes on his forhead that went up into his hairline. He was clutching close to him a large butcher knife, stained with blood. Both of his arms were covered in cuts, but it wasn't just his forearms. It was the inside of his arms, his wrists, his upper arms; almost every fucking inch was mutilated. He didn't have his usual orange jacket on; his was just wearing his white t-shirt along with his green pants.

His t-shirt was covered in blood as I could see cuts underneath his shirt bleeding through.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" I exclaimed, still in horror.

"C-Cartman….?" The daywalker hoarsely asked, his cheeks stained with tears and blood.

"What did you fucking do, Kahl?!" I didn't know what else to ask.

"Cartman…." I could see fresh tears swelling up in his eyes as he said:

"I'm dying-!"

My phone rang.

I woke up and clumsily grabbed my phone from my nightstand.

I did not recognize the number at all. I did, however, see that it was 5:45 in the morning.

"Hello?" I answered.

Then an automatic voice answered me. "Hello, this is a collect call from South Park County Jail. Will you except the call from:"

And I could hear the Jew say "Kyle."

My heart dropped and honestly I was a bit surprised that the kike's drinking got this far. I really wanted to say no. I wanted the Kike to know that I do not give a shit about what he's gotten himself into and that it is also not my problem that he's fucked up this bad.

But, against my better judgment, I answered, "Yes."

The automatic voice responded with, "One moment please."

Then I heard the Jew.

"Cartman?"

"WAY TO GO, ASSHOLE!" I yelled.

"Look," He said, trying to be calm. "I know that you're mad, and I know it's my fault-"

"Just please tell me you didn't fucking kill someone, Jew."

He sighed. "No. I didn't. I was just caught driving badly... And, well… I guess I was swerving a bit. I was really, really drunk."

I laughed sarcastically. "Yeah, no SHIT!"

"Look Cartman, I really need you to do me a HUGE favor."

"Here we go." I said, pissed off.

"Just please- PLEASE- post my bond. I have the number right here for a bond company. I've already talked to them and told them that I would be sending someone there for me soon."

"Post a bond…. Doesn't that mean, 'pay money', Kahl?"

There was a short pause.

"Yes."

I sighed. "And how fucking much are we talking about here?"

Another short pause.

"Well, it's $150. But I pro-"

"What the FUCK, Kahl?!" I cut him off, infuriated.

"Please, Cartman. Just do this one thing for me and I PROMISE I will pay you back as SOON as I get-"

"$150?! What the FUCK?"

I yelled again into the receiver. I heard a sigh on the other end.

"Like I said, I can pay you back as soon as tomorrow!"

"Like this is REALLY what I wanted to do on my Friday, Kahl!" I yelled, still in shock at the scenario.

"Why should I TRUST a JEW to pay me back money?" I continued to rant. "And why can't you filthy little Jews just stay out of trouble?! I TOLD you that you were drinking too much last night, but did your drunk, Jew-ass listen? NO!"

"And you were right, Cartman. And I'm really sorry," Kyle said. He paused. "But this was just one mistake. I promise I'll be more careful in the future with my drinking."

After the ginger didn't hear anything from me, he continued to plead pathetically :

"Please, Cartman. You're all I have right now. My parents would kill me and never talk to me again if I ask them to bail me out. Please…."

I sighed. "If Butters agrees to split it with me on the bail, then I GUESS I can try and get over there, when I can….." I mumbled. Of course, this basically meant that I was going to do it, as it's just as easy to trick Butters into doing anything as it is to steal candy from a baby.

"Thank you, Cartman." I heard Kyle say. I swear, he sounded cold-sober, but I know that wasn't the case several hours ago.

"This really means a lot to me."

AN HOUR AND A HALF LATER

"Well, I'm sure glad we could help the poor feller out! Aren't you Eric?"

"Not really." I answered in monotone voice while navigating the road.

"What? B-but Kyle- he's our roommate! I would just feel awful if he had to stay in jail longer than a day!" The blonde said.

I shrugged. All I knew was that I would be able to get back in time to get ready for work and that then it was about to Butters to pick up the drunk once his bond finally posted later today. I was grateful that Butters went in on the bail with me- he paid $75 and I paid $75. And I except every Goddamn cent back from the Jew tomorrow.

"I'm just sick of his shit, Butters." I said. "And honestly I wish he would fucking move out."

To that the fag sat there and said nothing. The rest of the ride home was in silence.

MONDAY

I just came back from probability and I had a couple of hours to kill before I went to my god-awful complex analysis class. I threw my backpack on the floor as soon as I shut the door behind me.

I wish I could just skip that shitty class altogether and just go to bed early.

But I noticed how my dishes were piling up in the sink. Guess I should do them now while I'm thinking about it. I walked over to the cabinet underneath the sink and opened it up to put on the yellow rubber gloves. The soap is really harsh on my skin so it's better if I take these precautions.

The weekend came and went. After Butters and I posted the Jew's bail, I threw myself into work that day. And while I normally don't work on Sundays, I volunteered to fill in for a co-worker, really just so I wouldn't be stuck at the apartment.

When I came back from work Saturday night, I walked into my room and found a fifty dollar bill, a twenty dollar bill, and a five dollar bill all laying on the floor. I was surprised just how fast the Jew was at reimbursing me. Jews usually never pay their debts.

But this was good because I really, really did NOT want to see him. The thought of the Jew pissed me off to no end and I am so sick of his mother fucking bullshit that I am afraid that I might just bash his face in the next time I see him.

Which is exactly what he deserves, but I don't want to take any chances with getting into trouble with the school.

I was scrubbing one of my last glasses when the door opened.

It was Kenny…. With a backpack?!

"Holy Jesus fucking Christ on a pogo stick," I said.

"You mean, you actually went to class, Kinneh?!"

"Fuck off, Cartman." He said nonchalantly. "I make good grades too," He protested.

"Yeah okay, because someone who shows up to class half the time usually makes good grades," I said, drying my last glass.

"It's none of your business anyways," He said as he sat in a stool at the bar, across from me.

"So….." He breathed, waiting for me to look at him.

"Yes?" I said, right after putting away my gloves.

"Have you talked to Kyle yet?"

"Fuck no," I snapped as I tore my eyes from his, preoccupied with putting my dishes away.

"He told me he gave you and Butters back the money already," He said.

"Yes he did," I closed my cabinet of dishes. "And now there is nothing more to discuss."

"You know, just because he got arrested doesn't maker him a fucking scambag, Cartman!" My white trash roommate yelled.

"I never said he was a 'scumbag'," I calmly explained. "But he is a hot-mess. And to be completely honest Kinneh, I wish he would move out."

Kenny's eyes pleaded. "You don't really mean that,"

"Yes, I do." I locked eyes with him to make sure he knew that I wasn't fucking around.

We heard a bedroom door opening as Butters came out with a bowl and spoon. I knew that the faggot just ate his chocolate pudding, which he always eats every afternoon for a snack.

"Afternoon, fellas!" He greeted as he walked over to the sink to put his dishes in and run some water. I stepped out of his way.

"Butters," The poor boy addressed him.

"Yes Kenny?"

"Do you want Kyle to move out?"

The naïve blonde's eyes turned from pleasant to panic, and they darted from Kenny, to me, and back to Kenny.

"W-why, no! Not at all! I like Kyle. H-h-he's my friend," After he turned the faucet off, the fag added: "He's always been my friend."

"See fatass?" The trashy blonde said. "It's two to one. You lose- Kyle's staying."

I felt my face getting red as I felt defeated. "Well if the kike is staying, he's gonna do something different! I'm SICK of all his emo, dramatic, over-the-top drunken BULLSHIT!"

Butters rubbed his knuckles against each other. "W-well, maybe Kyle just needs to seek some professional help,"

Kenny nodded.

"Yeah, maybe he just has no idea that he's a bit stressed, ya know? Maybe he just needs to be made aware that he may have some personal things he needs to work out."

I stood there and looked at the both of them and the two of them looked at me, optimistic and self-assured, as if they just discovered the solution to ALL of the Jew's problems. Maybe it's because they're blonde, or maybe it's because they're stupid, or maybe it's because they really don't know Kyle at all, but I instantly knew that they had no idea what they were dealing with.

I was at a loss of words when I heard the front door open.

It was him.

No one said anything as there seemed to be a staring contest between me, Butters, Kenny and Kyle.

"What the fuck, guys?" The redhead asked. "Did I just walk in on something?"

"Kahl, your drinking stops TONIGHT." I said as I approached him. "Gimme your keys."

"What, FUCK no!" He replied as he put his hand behind his back. "Look, I learned my lesson. I will never, EVER drink and then drive again!"

"Then you should at least stop drinking the hard shit," I said. "And besides, I believe Kinneh wants to say something."

The redhead's face blanched as he looked at Kenny, half-way ignoring me now. Kenny stumbled, having no idea what he was "supposed" to say.

Bingo.

With the Jew distracted, I easily jumped behind him, forcefully grabbed his keys, and made a run for it to his room.

"No! Cartman! DON'T!"

He tried to run in after me, but luckily I slammed the door in his face and locked it.

"LEMME IN!" He screamed. "GIMME MY FUCKING KEYS BACK!"

The Jew isn't that strong, so even if he could break open the door, I knew that I could dispose of all his hard liquor by then.

So that's what I did.

During his frantic screaming and pleading, I stood on the daywalker's chair, removed the multiple bottles of tequila, wine bottles, vodka, rum, and whiskey that he was proudly displayed on his top bookshelf.

I took each bottle, carried them all into his bathroom, and poured two at a time into his toilet.

When I finally opened the bedroom door, the Jew's eyes were filled with fury. He looked at me with homicidal rage.

"Don't worry Kahl," I said reassuringly. "It's just all the hard stuff that's gone. You still have your beer."

As I got my keys out to unlock my room, I could see the Jew out of the corner of my eye step into his bathroom.

I guess the scene of all the empty bottles was enough to make him cry at the top of his lungs…. Again.

I shut the door behind me and grabbed the remote to turn on the TV.

For once, I absolutely did not give a flying fuck that the Jew was upset.

Honestly, this is the way it should be.