Warning: The following chapter contains heavy offensive language and may contain adult themes that may not be suitable for sensitive/young readers. If you're not used to the South Park humor and/or don't like it, then please don't read this fan fiction. If you are not a fan of Yaoi or this particular pairing, then please don't read this Fan Fiction. If you're a perfectionist who insists that the author must get absolutely everything right or it's the end of the world, then PLEASE don't read this fan fiction. XD
***I do not own any of the mentioned characters. All characters belong to Trey Parker and Matt Stone.***

Chapter Ten

Butters watched Stan's chest slowly rise and fall with calm, deep breaths. The raven-haired teen had been unconscious for the last four hours, and looked like a horrible mess. The blonde had never seen anyone look so tired... and so dirty. The teenager was in desperate need of a shower, and there was no doubt that his teeth were in need of brushing. If Stan really had been captured by ManBearPig, then the smelly beast probably wouldn't let Stan take care of himself like he normally would. Butters felt a pang of guilt in his chest. Poor guy.

For some odd reason, Eric had tied Stan up as soon as the three of them had arrived in the boy's basement. Stan's arms were tied to his torso, his hands were cuffed, and his feet were also tied together. Eric must have thought Stan was some sort of escape-artist for going that far out on tying him up. It still didn't explain why the brunette had done it in the first place, though, and Butters was hoping he'd get his answer. For now, he was sitting on the last step of the stairs that led down to the basement, his head in his hands, his elbows on his knees, looking long and hard at Stan with a curious gaze. Eric had told him that Stan and Kyle died at the claws of ManBearPig. If that was so... then why was Stan here, in one piece? Sure, Stan wasn't in the greatest condition, but he wasn't exactly in shreds, either. Something wasn't right here... was it? Butters knew that Eric was known to be a liar, but... when he'd explained the story in the car earlier that day... he seemed so set on it. As if it actually happened, and Eric really did have to live with the emotional trauma of loosing his friends. Was it just an act? Was there something bigger behind all of this?

The basement door suddenly opening drew Butters' attention. He lifted his head from his arms and looked over his shoulder, his eyes landing on Eric's heavy form. The light from the rest of the house glowing against his back and shadowing his front, along with the strange tube and needle in his hand made him look like some crazed killer from a horror movie. It actually did send chills down Butters' spine. He watched as Eric's eyes flicked past Butters, and then watched as he began to descend the stairs. When he reached the bottom, he slipped past Butters with ease, and make his way over to Stan. Butters' eyes widened as Eric knelt down, grabbed one of Stan's bare arms, poked a needle inside him, and then injected some sort of unfamiliar-looking formula into him. When there was none left in the tube, Eric walked over to the small waste-basket at the side of the room, and plopped the needle inside.

"What did you put into him?" Butters' curious mind got the best of him before he'd asked the question. He was eyeing Stan wearily, waiting for anything strange to happen. Perhaps Stan would awaken, suddenly. Or start growing hair really quickly. Butters couldn't be sure what Eric had done.

"Nothing harmful. Just some sleeping kind of stuff," Eric casually replied, trotting to Stan's unconscious body and patting him on his head. "Kid won't wake up for a couple days, at least. He's going to have a long rest."

Butters rose a brow. "Huh? Why'd ya give 'im sleepin' medicine, Eric?" He innocently asked. "We want him to wake up, don't we?"

Eric paused as he thought about Butters' question, before slowly shaking his head, and removing his hand from Stan's hair. His eyes flicked to Butters' small form upon the staircase, looking him up and down with his own curiosity. "No, we don't want him to wake up." Eric said, at last. "Not until I know what to do with him..."

"What do you mean, 'Know What To Do With Him'?" Butters repeated, suddenly becoming very interested in answers. He slowly stood from his spot. "Eric, I thought you said that Stan died. Because of ManBearPig. A month and a half ago."

Eric started to look annoyed, his brows furrowing together with that irritated look that he wore on his face way too often. "I did say that, Butters." He scowled. "But obviously, I was wrong. I didn't see him die, you know. I just saw his bloody body on the ground and assumed he was dead. Hell, I didn't even watch Kyle die. He grabbed Kyle and I ran."

Butters' eyes widened. "What?! Are you serious?!" He gasped, suddenly. "Eric, Kyle could have still been alive in the house when we blew it up! He might be dead because of us, now!"

"That doesn't matter, Butters!" Eric snapped, quickly shutting Butters up with his hostility. "What matters is that we have to do something about Stan. ManBearPig has brainwashed him, which means he's a danger to the world." The boy paused, and then thought for a moment, glancing down at Stan. "But we can't exactly kill him, can we?"

Butters frowned. "I thought you said Stan was being held captive. Not-"

"OH MY GOD, BUTTERS, WILL YOU STOP CONTRIDICTING WHAT I SAY FOR ABOUT THREE SECONDS SO I CAN EXPLAIN WHAT'S GOING ON?!"

"BUT YOU'RE SAYING THINGS NOW THAT GO AGAINST WHAT YOU SAID BEFORE! IT'S REALLY CONFUSING ME!"

"WELL SHUT UP THEN, ASSHOLE, AND LET ME FUCKING EXPLAIN!"

"UGH..."

"Sweetie? Poopsie-kins? Is everything alright down here with you and your friends?"

"SHUT UP MOM, LEAVE US ALONE!"

"Oh, alright, then. You three have fun, dear."

"AUGH!"

The sun is shining high in the sky, casting it's warm rays down upon the Earth. For what seems like the first time in forever, there's no snow covering the ground. The grass is bright and green, the road is nice and black, and the side-walks are dirty with dirt and gum how they normally should be, instead of covered in ice.

Kyle had never been so happy to be sitting on one of the swing-sets of the park. He wasn't really sure how he got here... but he wasn't going to question it. He was clean and nice-looking and just so damn happy. His legs gently dangled back and fourth as he calmly swung small swings back and fourth as he watched the park busy itself with fun. Little kids ran around chasing each other with sticks and rocks. Some climbed on the play-ground, and others calmly sat on the grassy field, enjoying a nice lunch. Kyle was sitting alone... but he didn't seem to mind this. He especially didn't seem to mind, when his eyes landed on a certain someone walking toward him.

His body was slender, and fit. He had long, skinny yet slightly muscly arms and legs. Each leg took a stride with purpose as they walked. Jet-black hair matched deep blue eyes. The sun seemed to make his skin glow. His hands were bare, finally not needing the mittens now that winter was over, and the cold was gone. His fingers were long, and they gently raked through his hair for only a moment, before his hat slid back along his head. His eyes were focused upon Kyle... staring right into his emerald ones. Kyle felt heat spread across his cheeks, and he gave a nervous swallow and a shy smile as his friend approached. His hands held tighter onto the chains of the swing.

When Stan was close enough, he gave a small squeak as he suddenly felt the soft skin of his fingers make contact with his chin. They rested there a moment, and Kyle could swear he saw a twinkle in those deep blue eyes. Then, slowly, his chin was tilted upward. Stan calmly smiled down at him, and leaned closer. Kyle felt his heart skip a beat, and felt butterflies dance in his stomach. Stan leaned in closer... and closer... until Kyle could finally feel the teen's warm breath on his lips. Then, slowly, their eyes shut as they began to make contact...

Pain. Everything was fucking pain.

Kyle groaned, his eyes tight as he felt pain shoot up both of his legs, and his right arm. He felt heavy weight on his back... and he didn't even have to open his eyes to know that a shelf had fallen on him. There was pain fucking everywhere in his entire body. His head was suffering from a major headache, and it made him feel sickly on the inside. He felt dizzy... and pained... and... just... oh, God.

What the hell had he been dreaming about? Him. Him and Stan. And they... did they kiss? Kyle couldn't quite remember. He'd woken up too soon to really figure that out. But kissing Stan had been Kyle's intention in the dream. He wanted to be lip-locked with the black-haired boy. But why? Oh, God. Stan had been coming into Kyle's dreams more and more lately, and it was always something involving romance. Kyle hadn't started experiencing these dreams before, but lately, he'd been feeling closer to Stan. He first dismissed it, thinking it was sexual tension, but when the feelings only grew stronger, he found himself not being able to forget. Stan was always on his mind. Those eyes. That hair. Those lips. Stan, Stan, Sta-...

...STAN!

Kyle's eyes flew open to reveal the dark world before him. The lights on the inside of the bomb-shelter had shut off... probably due to whatever caused that fucking explosion above-ground. Kyle last remembered watching Stan climb up the latter... and then the explosion... and then watching the shelf fall on top of him. It must have knocked him unconscious, because everything else was black until up to this point.

Kyle tried to move, and only screamed as sudden pain shot up his legs. The two limbs below didn't feel right. They felt like his arm... only worse. They were broken. He knew they were. The only thing that hadn't been crushed under the shelf was Kyle's neck... thank... thank God. Kyle was laying on his back in an awkward position, staring up at the ceiling. He could see some sort of light coming from the open entrance of the bomb shelter... and that's when he finally noticed the shrieking sound of sirens. Police Sirens? Ambulance Sirens? Whatever they were, they were proof that people were here. Kyle tried screaming out, but nothing happened. His voice was gone. ...And he realized... so was Stan. Stan was gone... and Kyle was alone.

Or so he had thought.

The shelf suddenly began to move off of him, and it's movement was followed by the sounds of struggling grunts. The shelf had landed back onto Kyle a couple of times, causing him to silently scream again, but he didn't move. It wasn't long before the shelf was removed, and a figure suddenly came into view. Kyle stared a moment through his blurry vision... and then blinked. His eyes were met with a set of light-blue ones hidden behind a purple and black mask.

"M... M-Mysterion?" He asked. He paused a moment. His throat felt so dry... and his stomach was rumbling again with hunger. "K-Kenny...?"

Mysterio-... Kenny... was silent. He sent Kyle a sympathetic look, his eyes trailing up and down the teenager's figure. For a while, the two of them were silent, staring at each other as if they'd never seen them before. Tears were brought to Kyle's eyes. He never thought he'd see anyone beside Stan again. Kenny stared at Kyle with an intense gaze, before softly sighing.

"It's good to have you back, Kyle..." Kenny's tone was soft, but hardly a whisper. He was calm, though his lips were quivering a little. His eyes kept flicking to Kyle's legs and arm. Then, softly, he mumbled again, "I knew that fatass had done something to you..."

Kyle blinked, and tried to clear his throat, but nothing happened. He lightly groaned and whispered, "K-Kenny... Stan... where's... Where's Stan...?"

"I saw Cartman push him into the back of his car," Kenny informed almost instantly. "I think they're back at his place. I can go get him after I get you taken care of."

Kyle looked surprised... but then his eyebrows narrowed. Of 'course that fucking fatass took Stan. Stan must have been discovered when he got out of the bomb-shelter. The boy had promised that he would get help so Kyle could get out too... since he couldn't climb with his broken arm. But now Stan was gone... Cartman had taken him...

Kyle suddenly felt Kenny's arms slide under him, and screamed out when Kenny lifted Kyle up into his arms. Kyle went to move his legs, but then remembered that they were broken, and not usable without inflicting pain upon himself. More tears began to trail down Kyle's cheeks. Kenny shushed him.

"I'm going to take you to the ambulance outside..." Kenny whispered. "I know you probably want to go find Stan, but it's important that we give you what you need. I promise I'll go find Stan as soon as I make sure the doctors have you."

Kyle opened his mouth to argue, but found himself voiceless again. A sudden wave of exhaustion, hunger, and pain flooded over him. His head rested against Kenny's costume-clothed chest. He found himself drifting. He tried to force himself awake... and failed. His eyes slowly fell closed as the pain and sleep settled in. Everything went black, and silent.

Eric's bedroom was silent, and only contained one person; the owner himself. He was sitting at his desk, his back leaned against the soft padding of his rolling-chair. His eyes were closed, and his arms were crossed over his chest, but he wasn't sleeping. While the rest of his body appeared in the state of rest, his mind was fast at work – thinking about the situation he was in. There wasn't any doubts in his mind that Kyle hadn't been discovered. The lid of the bomb shelter had gotten torn off in the explosion... which was something that Eric didn't expect to happen. And in a panic, he'd grabbed Stan and tied him up in the basement. So now, Kyle was probably recovering in the hospital, Stan was drugged and tied up, Butters was believing a bullshit story, and Eric had a high chance of being discovered. What could he do?

It was obvious that Stan and Kyle hadn't killed themselves out of loneliness after being trapped in the bomb shelter for a month and a half. And though it did bring Eric some peace, his fun was over, now. He had to think of a plan. They'd be coming after him. He could always run away. He could guilt-trip Butters into running away with him. He wouldn't leave America all together, but he could definitely go somewhere else. California, maybe. ...Yeah, that actually sounded kind of good. He was sixteen years old, had his own car, license, and the money his mom was saving for him for college. He could get Butters to join him... and they could bring Stan along. Just because Kyle was discovered didn't mean that Stan was off the hook. Sure, he wasn't meant to be part of any of this in the first place, but what other choice did Eric have? He'd find some way to convince Stan to stick around once they were gone. It'd take some work, but Eric was sure he could be convincing. They could run away together. Just the three of them.

A sudden sound invaded the silence of Eric's room, and grabbed his attention. Eric's eyes opened, and he casually looked toward his window, his eyes lit with curiosity. Mysterion... or Kenny, as everyone had figured out a long time ago... was perched on the sill, eyes narrowed in Eric's direction. Eric looked at the masked teen a moment... before slowly lifting a brow in question.

"Kenny?" He asked, keeping his tone casual. "What's up? Why're you dressed like Mysterion? It's been ages since we've played Superhero."

Kenny didn't answer right away. Instead, he climbed fully through the window, and sat upon Eric's bed. Then, he slid to the edge of the bed – and still sitting – hung his feet over the edge. They hit the floor soundlessly. He looked Eric up and down. Then, slowly, he removed his hood to reveal his shaggy, soft blonde hair, and his light blue eyes.

"Just because you stopped 'playing superhero' doesn't mean that the rest of us did," Kenny mumbled. Then, he rose his voice to a normal tone, and sent Eric a frown. The next thing he said had the brunette's eyes growing wide with surprise. "I know that it was you who put Kyle and Stan in the bomb-shelter, fatass. I'm here to get Stan and probably kick your ass."

Eric just watched Kenny with his surprised stare for a moment. What could he have possibly said to get himself out of this... or to get Kenny to leave without taking Stan? There had to be something... right? Something. Something...

Awh, screw it. "I'll admit it. I locked them in the bomb shelter. Originally, I was only going to lock Kyle in there. It... it's kind of a weird story."

Kenny huffed, and crossed his arms. "I can guarantee that I'm not going anywhere right now."

Eric sighed. He guessed Kenny had the right to know as much as everyone else. He slowly took in a breath as he searched his head for the beginning. He hummed a moment, tapping his fingers on his desk, before slowly exhaling and looking away.

"In school, the day of Kyle's disappearance, he and I got into some stupid ass fight." Eric recalled, eyes flashing back to the rather humiliating moment. "I gave him one of my usual Your-Mom's-A-Fat-Jewish-Bitch jokes, and... he responded with a comment about my mother. He said something about her being a crackhead or a sex addict or something... I don't quite remember, and if I'm honest, I don't really want to remember anyway. Long story short, we got in a fight, and I ended up with my lunch all over my clothes and in my hair." Eric paused, slightly gritting his teeth together at the memory. "I just finally snapped and realized that I didn't want to put up with Kyle's shit anymore. Hell, I didn't even want to kill him. I wanted him gone. So I kidnapped him that night and drug him to Stan's Uncle Jimbo's bomb shelter. Jimbo had moved away, or was in the process, and I knew I could hide Kyle there without anyone knowing. But after I got there, I came to the realization that Stan was house-sitting for Jimbo, and... after he realized what I was doing with Kyle, I had to shut him in the shelter as well. I didn't want to, but he'd tell on me if I let him free."

Eric lifted his eyes to meet Kenny's expression. The blonde looked disappointed, and slightly irritated. As if he was saying Really. That's what this is all about? But Eric ignored it, and sighed again. "After the two of them were gone, I became really happy. I mean, I missed making fun of Kyle, but I had Butters. He may not be a Jew, but he's fucking stupid, so that works as well, too."

Kenny was silent for a moment, taking in everything that he'd just heard. Then, he slowly stood, put his hands together, and then made his way to Eric's door. "Eric, you're fucking stupid. I'm taking Stan and leaving. I don't even want to kick your ass. You're just a disappointment."

Eric frowned at the insult, but then frowned even more at Kenny's reaction to the true story. He didn't even care! Eric was basically the victim of this whole situation, right? And Kenny didn't even care! That poor-ass son of a bitch!

Eric removed himself from his chair, quickly walked to Kenny, and snatched his arm up. Kenny blinked a moment as he looked down at his arm, to the tight grip that Eric brought, before looking up to the brunette's face. Eric held a glare.

"I can't let you take him. Not when things are already so fucked." Eric spoke, his tone low, and dark, as if he was about to do something terrible. "Just get the hell out of my house, and walk away from the situation. Do it before you regret coming in the first place."

Kenny frowned back, gritting his own teeth this time. "Cartman, you son of a bitch, you lied to me." He replied, speaking rather calmly. "In school. You lied to me. I thought you and I had like a bond of trust or whatever... but no. Nope, you're that same asshole that you've been all your life." Kenny then shrugged out of Eric's grasp, and reached for the handle. "I'm saving Stan because he's my fr-"

Kenny didn't have time to finish. He let out a yell as his arm was grabbed again, and he was suddenly flung across the room. He landed on Eric's bed, and his eyes went wide as he watched Eric snatch up a football trophy off of his dresser and begin to quickly approach. The blonde reached toward his back pocket, and Eric tried to keep his face from showing any fear when his friend pulled out a knife...

"After the two of them were gone, I became really happy. I mean, I missed making fun of Kyle, but I had Butters. He may not be a Jew, but he's fucking stupid, so that works as well, too."

"Eric, you're fucking stupid. I'm taking Stan and leaving. I don't even want to kick your ass. You're just a disappointment."

"I can't let you take him. Not when things are already so fucked. Just get the hell out of my house, and walk away from the situation. Do it before you regret coming in the first place."

"Cartman, you son of a bitch, you lied to me. In school. You lied to me. I thought you and I had like a bond of trust or whatever... but no. Nope, you're that same asshole that you've been all your life."

The conversation before was all Butters needed. His eyes were wide, and a hand was cupped over his mouth to hide his dropped jaw. His instinct had been right. Something bigger was going on. ManBearPig wasn't real, after all. This was all Eric's fault. He tricked Butters into helping him blow up a building to keep people from discovering Stan and Kyle. But they were discovered anyway. Eric's plan – his terribly made plan – backfired. Butters, trying to get over his shock, left Kenny to deal with the crazy brunette as he ran downstairs. When he reached the living-room, he passed Ms. Cartman, who had been sitting on the couch, reading a book. She'd waved hello, and Butters politely waved back, and then ran to the basement door. When he'd reached it, he pulled it open, and ran inside.

Stan was still unconscious, on the ground, tied up. He'd probably be asleep for a couple days, if Eric's syrum worked. Butters acted quickly, for he knew he didn't have much time. After cutting the bindings around Stan and unlocking the cuffs, he hauled Stan's heavy body over his shoulder (which was insanely hard to do, since Butters was very much smaller than Stan). Then, he pulled a paper and a pencil from his pocket, scribbled down a note, then left it where Stan had been sitting before turning and going back up the stairs. He'd received an odd look from Ms. Cartman on the way out, but she didn't question what was happening. When Butters was in the safety of the out-doors, outside of Eric's house, he looked toward Eric's bedroom window. He saw a couple shadows of two figures... who looked like they were in the middle of a violent fight. Butters knew Kenny was doing something about the situation, and as much as Butters didn't like violence, he knew it had to be done.

Butters began to quickly walk down the path that led to Stan's house... but before he did, he'd mouthed a word of thanks to Kenny, before patting Stan's back, and whispering,

"Don't worry, Stan... everything is okay, now."

Nice try, Eric, but I am the only evil mastermind in South Park.

While your attempts may have been good, they were not good enough. You have failed,

and will hopefully be reported to the South Park police. Let it be known that if you ever

bring harm to Stan Marsh or Kyle Broflovski again, jail will be the least of your concerns.

~ Professor Chaos

Yeah, I know that was kind of a sad Professor Chaos attempt. I've never written about that certain supervillain, though, so don't be too disappointed if I didn't do a good job. XD And if you didn't understand: The note from Professor Chaos is what Butters left in the basement, for Cartman to see later.
I finally finished this chapter around 12:30 AM. I'm exhausted... XD. So if there's any mistakes I didn't catch, let me know in your review. Not misspelled words... just facts that I didn't get straight or something.
I think we've got about one or two chapters left. I'll be honest; this isn't what I was expecting it to be. I was expecting the fic to be a little better and a little longer and a little more romancier, but... hey, you know what? I did alright for a first-time multi-chapter fic, right? It doesn't have the greatest plot or too much romance, but... it's not complete garbage. I want to thank you all again so much for the supportive comments. It means the world to me. I smile after reading each one of them. They all make my day.

The next chapter shall come out soon! But for now, I must rest, so that I may have more energy and a better frame of mind to write a good chapter. Things are going to slow to a stop pretty soon... but it's not over as of this chapter.

Thanks everyone! X.O.X.O. :3