So... we've made it to chapter 19... I was three reviews short of that exactly 7 reviews per chapter on average goal... but that's cool, since in order to achieve that now I'll just need a total of 133 reviews... okay, I'm really dorky.

Clyde fans... you're out of the red zone... for now. I'd say that Stan and Kyle fans should be cautious over the next few chapters, though.

You guys are all amazing, and so I'm giving you a new chapter. My fanart disclaimer was made last chapter... check it out. And also, please expose this story to anyone you think might like this... it sounds like advertising, yes, but... I don't know. If you know any StanKyle fans that like this stuff pass the word on, or something.

That meeting with my friend didn't quite go as expected. But nevertheless I write again to vent out frustrations in a rational way, haha.

My current song addiction is "Mexico" by Jump (Little Children).

Sometimes people wish for pleasant things to occur in their life. Perhaps good fortune, happiness, or whatever else that makes them happy. However, normally the things they wish for are also the things that have the least likely chance of happening. Whether it's the probability of selecting the number 10 in a set of one-digit numbers or if it's finding the probability of finding an electron in the node of an atom, most wishes and desires almost never come true.

Yet there are also malevolent things that people sometimes wish for. Normally this occurs only when people display a hatred for another person, such as a feeling toward a person who has betrayed someone, and this is also called ill wishing. Yet this is still wishing for things to occur in a person's life, and it is unfortunate that these wishes often come true more frequently than other wishes. Disasters tend to occur much more frequently than miracles, a person gets rejected more than they are loved back, and bombs tend to hit the ground more than free supplies. And in times such as these ill wishers steal all the available wishing stars from those who would use them for good causes.

So when Stan saw the boy enter the hospital room he was immediately categorized with the ill wishers. Roughly, half the population was male, and the other half female. So if there were six billion people living on earth, and three billion of these were male, then each male had a one-six billionth of a chance to walk through that door. It was proven then that bombs were clearly more frequently seen than supplies, since out of the three billion males that could have walked through that door it had been the one boy, the boy that was clearly not wanted there by the majority of the occupants in the room.

"What do you want?" said Stan coolly. The boy's eyes met Stan's own, and immediately their gazes entered an undeclared war. Stan refused to break the eye contact, and the other boy didn't seem willing to break either. It was only when Kyle and Kenny joined in with Stan's previous statement that the boy had to stop glaring at Stan to address the general group.

"I want to see if he's all right," he said.

"Of course you do," said Kyle. "Of all people you would care the most for his well-being."

"It's not that big of a deal guys," said Clyde, sitting up on his bed and straightening his posture. "He just wants to see if I'm feeling better. There's nothing wrong with a well-wisher, right?"

"Clyde, how can you not see the problem with this?" yelled Stan. "A murderer does not ask for forgiveness from his victim, nor does he appear at the funeral to see if he died peacefully! A child molester does not say sorry to the kid he's molested, nor does he check up to see if the child got AIDS! And so your attacker would not come here just to ask for forgiveness, nor would he see if you were all right!"

"Yeah!" piped in Kyle. "Why would he want to see if you were okay anyway? He beat the shit out of you, dude!"

"Whoa, whoa..." said the boy slowly. "I may have done some terrible things-"

"Indeed," muttered Stan.

"-But that doesn't mean that I can't feel any remorse for what I've done," finished the boy, not stopping despite Stan's interruption.

"He has a point," said Kenny.

"What?" yelled Stan and Kyle at once.

"Well think about it... we've all done some stupid things in the past. Okay, okay, the majority of these things were done by Cartman, but... Stan's put a gun to Kyle's head before... Stan crapped in the urinal once... and he turned Goth..."

"Jesus Christ, Kenny," snapped Stan. "I'm not the only one who's done anything bad!"

"Yeah, yeah, but to the point... the point is that we all did things in the past, and that it ended up being fine. I'm not sure why this is any different." Indeed, as Stan glared at his friend he knew that the blonde boy was right. It was similar to elementary school, where there were some things children learned that were never explained, and they were just told to accept these as true and not worry about why; it was perhaps also similar to a plane's ability to fly, and though people did not know how an airplane could fly they just accepted that it was able to. Stan did not want to know why Kenny was right, but somehow... he just knew he was.

"Fine, fine!" said Kyle, leaving Stan to be the only one questioning the boy's presence. "So then if you feel remorse, tell me what it is exactly that you're sorry about."

"Well... for attacking Clyde I guess," said the boy. "I mean, I'm not really sure where all that anger came from. I hate homosexuals, and I thought that joining ANTIGSA would be a peaceful way to express those thoughts. But I found out later that Cartman uses more... non-pacifist ways of doing this. He was feeding ideas into our minds, ideas of hatred, unacceptance, and intolerance. And so when Wendy told me that she found out that Clyde was a fa- homosexual... I was just so absorbed with what Cartman was saying that I... got carried away."

"Indeed," said Stan.

"That's cool," said Clyde, "I forgive you for fighting me... just know that there are other ways of expressing hatred... I mean, it's okay to have a disliking towards it, but... you don't have to show violence to show your hatred." Stan now looked at his other friend in confusion. Was Clyde right too? Was he right in being so forgiving? Was this similar to an airplane, and that the actual happenings should merely be accepted and not thought about? Stan could not establish this for himself; he personally saw Clyde as being too forgiving of the matter. Then again, maybe that would be a good thing when it came to breaking up with him...

...which Stan still had to do...

"I promise I won't express a hatred like that again," said the boy. He turned to his watch, and after registering the time he faced Clyde once more. "Well I have to go leave now. My mom's in the car waiting to drive me to Denver for dinner."

"Wow, Denver?" exclaimed Kenny. "Amazing! I wish I had that kind of money!" The boy nodded in reply, and as he turned to walk out the door he muttered some form of goodbye. Clyde was quick in returning the farewell, and as soon as he left Stan decided to speak up.

"So why was Token laughing before he got here?" he asked. The other three merely shrugged, and Stan supposed then that he was probably laughing about other things. After all, every occurrence around him didn't necessarily have to involve him.

- - - - - - - - - -

They spent the next few hours with Clyde in his room. A doctor had popped in sometime in their ignorance of time that Clyde was to stay the night just in case. Stan didn't see the reasoning behind this, and he was sure that almost every other hospital would rather push unnecessary patients from their rooms than to keep them longer for caution; then again their town was small, and even though the hospital covered a large radius of population it was still fairly empty.

It was around six thirty when Mrs. Broflovski came. She had left previously, though in the "heat" of their conversations no one had noticed her leave. Now she was attired in different clothing, and Ike accompanied her. Ike's lime green shirt was very prominent, and though it stood out very well it also added a decent amount of color to the room.

"Hey Ike," said Kenny, and when the boy replied with an imitation of an overflowing soda can the blonde boy burst into laughter. Clyde had a sense of confusion on his face, while Stan and Kyle both rolled their eyes. Admittedly it had been funny at the time, but it had been too long ago for either of the two to laugh about it now.

"Boys, Ike and I are going to buy dinner to bring back and eat here," said Mrs. Broflovski. "I was wondering if you boys would like to come?"

"Yeah, let's go!" exclaimed Kenny, who was clearly starving.

"One of us should stay with Clyde," said Kyle, frowning.

"And I'm definitely not the guy staying," interjected Kenny. Stan chuckled.

"Don't worry about it guys," said Clyde. "I don't mind being alone, you know. I mean, I am capable of staying by myself you know. I've been here all day without you guys."

"Nah it's cool, dude," said Stan. "Kenny, you and Kyle can go. I'll keep Clyde company."

"You sure?" asked Kyle, and when Stan had nodded he took Kenny's hand and led him out of the room. There was a small part of Stan that was envious at this action, but he was able to control his emotions. Oh how he wanted Kyle to hold his hand too...

...which led back to Clyde... Stan still needed to figure out how he was going to call this off. Should he do it now, or wait longer? In his heart Stan knew that it would be better to wait until later, as he didn't want to crush his heart right after the experience. Yet that envious part of him wanted Kyle, and if Stan wasn't using everything he had to hold himself back he was sure that that part of him would do all it took to get rid of Clyde and get Kyle.

After Mrs. Broflovski had left Stan returned to Clyde's side. He pulled up a chair beside the bed and rested his head on the mattress. He felt Clyde's hand ruffle his hair playfully, and Stan smiled. Yet as he enjoyed the boy's actions another thought entered his mind. What if Kyle didn't want to be with him anymore? Would he sacrifice this relationship only to be turned down? Should he simply settle with what he had now?

"So I take it your day went okay?" Clyde asked in a soft voice. Stan shook his head.

"No dude, of course not. You think I could concentrate while having you in the hospital? No way!"

Clyde smiled. "Well I hope I didn't make you fail any tests..." The lack of response from Stan definitely was not reassuring. "Well, did I?"

"I might've done poorly on that Geometry test," muttered Stan. "I think I did okay in everything else." Clyde nodded, and continued to playfully stroke Stan's hair. It felt nice, though Stan's want to break off with Clyde made each stroke a reason to change his mind. He shut his eyes tightly and swallowed down his thoughts.

"I'm sure you did fine," said Clyde, giving Stan's head a soft pat. Another silence occurred, and this time neither boy made a move to break it. It was a comforting silence, most unlike the awkward silences he continuously experienced with Kyle. It had been yet another reason to not break off with Clyde, and suddenly he felt that maybe it really was better this way.

But... Kyle! Stan still felt nervous around him. Though he had pretty much lost his habit of vomiting around people he liked, Stan knew that if he could he would definitely be vomiting all over Kyle. His thoughts were centric around him... they were really close friends... somehow Stan still felt that he wanted Kyle more, despite what he had now.

"Clyde...?"

"Yeah...?" But as the boy responded Stan couldn't say what he wanted to say. Somehow the opposing concept flooded his own reasons for breaking up with Clyde. The gentleness of his strokes, the comforting silences, feeling loved... it was as if Stan no longer wanted to let go to these feelings, and whatever reasoning he had for wanting Kyle instead left him entirely. He gulped again, and muttered softly to the other boy,

"It's good to see you're okay." And it had been left at that.

- - - - - - - - - -

The four had returned twenty minutes later with Chinese food, and together the six people ate their dinners in the hospital room. Stan didn't quite agree with eating "City Beef," but despite its name it didn't taste too bad, so he ate it without complaining. Kenny gulfed down the meal, as expected, and even finished up whatever Ike and Stan could not finish. Sometimes Stan felt sorry for him, having to live in such poverty. He had remembered the first time he went to Kenny's house, and how everyone had shared a waffle for dinner. He made a mental note to invite Kenny more often to his house for meals.

It wasn't long after when they were told to leave. As instructed Clyde stayed behind, and after a prolonged farewell to him Stan left the hospital with the others. Throughout the ride home Kyle and Kenny were holding hands, and he could clearly see Ms. Broflovski's disliking for the behavior. Stan wondered how she treated the matter at home, and whether Kyle was reprimanded for dating another guy.

"You haven't played with me in a while," said Ike, craning his head from the front seat to face Kenny.

"Yeah, I've been busy." Stan snickered at this comment, and even dared into faking a cough to hide a statement that went along the lines of "Busy with Kyle."

"I know!" said Ike, his eyes gleaming with childish joy. "Come play with me today! Mom's fine with that, isn't she?"

"No she is not," said their driver. "I don't want visitors right now, and your dad is still at his guy's night out."

"There goes that plan, Ike," said Kyle, squeezing Kenny's hand. "But he could come tomorrow, I'd bet."

"Yeah, you could!" added Ike. "Come on Kenny, please!"

"If it's okay with Mrs. Broflovski..." said Kenny softly. Naturally the little boy turned to his mother for her permission.

"Well..." began his mother, and Ike's pouting had done the trick. "All right. But he'd better be there to play with you and not with someone else."

"I could do both!" exclaimed Kenny, but after noticing her death glare he took back the comment.

"Yay!" said Ike; "Tomorrow Kenny's coming over!"

"How about Stan?" asked Kyle, catching Stan off guard. "Why can't we invite him too? I mean, he probably feels left out from these things..." Kenny frowned, but Stan began shaking his head furiously.

"No dude, I'm good," said Stan.

"I insist!" Kyle said. "We could all hang out, almost like old times... only with Ike to replace Cartman."

"He said he's good," said Kenny.

"But-"

"Drop it Kyle," said Kenny. Kyle frowned, looking first at Kenny, and then to Stan. Stan looked into the boy's eyes, and as soon as the boy's facial expression began to pout he was doomed for eternity.

"All right, all right, I'll go," said Stan. "If it's okay with your mom."

"Why of course dear!" exclaimed Mrs. Broflovski. "You are most always welcome!" Stan laughed silently, but he also happened to notice Kenny's foul expression. Stan had a pretty good idea what he was thinking... why does he get her favor?

"Well then it's settled," said Kyle, and as he finished the car pulled in front of Stan's house. The raven-haired boy exited from the vehicle and said his thanks.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Stan dismissed, turning away to walk to his house.

"Say hi to Sharon for me, dear," said Kyle's mother, and as he nodded the car drove away. Sighing, Stan trotted into his house, shut the door behind him, and hung his jacket. He said hello to his mother, both for himself and for Mrs. Broflovski, and then he went upstairs to his room, passing Shelly on the way up. He collapsed on his bed, stuffed a pillow over his face, and did his best to fall asleep. Yet interesting and puzzling concepts plagued his mind, and as his mind slipped into the realm of dreams he himself did not know what was false and what was the truth.

"Why couldn't you love me?" he heard Wendy ask him. "I mean sure, I dumped you to date Token. But when I asked you to like me once more you chose not to. How could someone be so inconsiderate to others' feelings?"

"But you're dating Cartman!" Stan protested.

"Only to get revenge on a selfish person like you!" Wendy snapped back. "I mean, I saw you that day at the movies. I saw you with Kenny and Kyle and Clyde, all of you being gay for each other. I dated Cartman to get revenge on you, Stanley Marsh! I was the one who reported Clyde gay so that someone would beat him up and ruin your life. And mark my words, Stan. Whoever you will love, ever, will have to deal with me. And no one fucks with Wendy Testaburger."

"But-" he heard himself start, but before he could say anything a new scene appeared before him. Wendy had disappeared entirely; this time he could see himself with his surroundings, though it didn't help much that he was seeing himself restrained to a wall with handcuffs. On a table before him was Clyde, also tied with restraints, though instead he was tied with ropes as opposed to handcuffs.

"Stupid fag," he heard someone say, and similar to the typical action and adventure movie the villain appeared from the shadows: Cartman. "Fags don't deserve to live. They destroy the family unit, they influence others to be gay with them, and it's completely against religious morals. They deserve to die." Stan wanted to say something in Clyde's defense, but for some reason he was unable to make any noise. Though he couldn't see a frontal view of himself on the wall, he figured that he must've had a handkerchief stuffed in his mouth, or that his mouth must've been duct-taped together.

Stan felt horrified as he watched Cartman place a cigarette butt on the boy's skin. He could almost feel tears roll down his cheeks as the boy cried out in pain, struggling to shift his position in an attempt to relieve some of the pain. His efforts were to no avail, and Cartman only placed the butt on a different location of the boy's body. Stan was now shaking, making his own attempts at being free. Unfortunately for him handcuffs were more durable than rope, and they could not be untied. He helplessly watched as Cartman threw the butt at the boy, and picked up a knife. He saw Clyde's eyes watch the blade carefully, whimpering fear.

The scene in front of him randomly shifted once more, and he was never really able to see what happened after that. However, looking upon his new environment gave him a pretty decent idea of what happened in the end. Stan was dressed in black, and he was under an umbrella that Kyle was holding for him. They were outdoors this time, and Stan was happy he wasn't restrained, though he could not feel the difference. In front of them was a tombstone, and on it he read the inscription, Clyde Donovan. May he rest in peace with the eternal father, without persecution. "I'll help you cope," he heard Kyle say, who had placed an arm around his waist. Stan leaned into the boy's shoulder for comfort, but as soon as he had done so his environment changed once more.

"I want you back, damnit!" yelled Wendy, even before Stan could fully register where they were. He saw Kyle beside him, holding his hand while looking defiantly at the black-haired girl.

"Give it up," said Kyle. "You can't have him. Get over it." Stan looked at the area around him, and noted that they were on a bridge. Rather, he and Kyle were leaning against the rail, perhaps looking over it previously, and Wendy facing both of them.

"Never!" she shrieked, and her hands went straight for Kyle's throat. Kyle's eyes widened with fear, and as Stan prepared to jump in to help he felt a strong pair of hands bind his own behind his back.

"Can't help your fag friend now, can you?" said a male's voice, and Stan had noticed how he intentionally breathed hot breath on his neck as he spoke. Stan watched in fear as Wendy attempted to strangle Kyle, and every attempt Stan made was only restrained.

"Let me go!" yelled Stan, struggling once more.

"Oh, but you love this so much more," said his captor, breathing even more hot breath on his neck. Stan closed his eyelids for a split second, almost giving in to the feeling, However he quickly came to his senses, and tried struggling again. "You're going to find it hard to set yourself free. Especially..." His captor let himself trail off, but as Stan wondered what he meant to say the boy used physical actions to finish him off. He felt his captor's body pressed against him from behind, and Stan unwillingly let out a gasp. His captor only smirked more, and sent a warm mist of air on Stan's skin.

Stan had given in.

"Stop playing with him," said a strict voice, completely intruding Stan's thoughts. He recognized this voice immediately as Cartman's, and he opened his eyes immediately to see what was going.

"We're done," said Wendy, and Cartman nodded. He made a head notion over his shoulder, and the three quickly left the scene, his unknown captor tossing him carelessly on the floor. Stan groaned at the impact, but he quickly got up and scrambled his way over to Kyle. He was clearly unconscious, and Stan could almost see marks along his neck. He placed a hand on the boy's chest, and did not feel it rise nor sink.

"YOU CAN'T BE DEAD!" Stan yelled, jolting right out of bed. He panted deeply, beads of sweat dripping from his hair onto his forehead. The digital clock in his room read three in the morning, and the bed sheets were all a complete mess. It had all been a dream; the deaths of his friends, the torture, the completely random scene changes... none of it had been real. Yet it had seemed so real... it all seemed possible of happening, especially the scenes involving Wendy. He remembered how she had dealt with Ms. Ellen, and he knew her capability of completely destroying people she didn't like.

"It's not real," Stan convinced himself. Wendy couldn't possibly like him again. She wouldn't have dated Cartman if she did... and her reasoning for dating him was completely false, Stan had to convince himself.

"It couldn't be," said Stan. Cartman didn't smoke. There was no place in South Park that looked similar to that scene, where a person could be tied to a table, and another to the wall. There was no place.

"There's no possibility." Clyde was obviously still alive. The doctors had said he was fine; he didn't suffer any serious damage. He knew that Clyde would be healthy and okay, and attend school the following day.

"It can't be real." Yet even with these assurances, Stan felt scared. He didn't want such a terrible fate to befall someone. He didn't want to see all that suffering. He was scared of the world now, of Wendy, of Cartman. He was scared that his dream would become a reality.

So what was a dream then? Was it a form of unexpressed wish, a wish that people wanted to come true so that blessings would shower their life? Or was it a form of unexpressed dooming, a wish that asked for the complete destruction of another's life? Was it a new type of wish, or was it a kind of wish that was neither of these? And how would someone explain a dream? Was dreaming necessarily a correct thing to do? Was it like the flight of an airplane, something that is assumed to happen naturally yet not explained. Was it similar to the math equations elementary kids learned, equations that were just correct, and an explanation not required? Were there reasons behind dreams, reasons why dreaming should be accepted? Was a possibility of a comforting dream a good enough prospect to still dream? Were there enough reasons to want to break off from the entire concept of dreaming as a whole? Were dreams something worth sacrificing? Were they childish things to experience? Were they visions that foretold the future? Did they dictate how someone should live their life?

Whatever it was, one thing was established. Stan was now afraid to dream.

That's my rather lengthy chapter 19! I know you loved how much effort and planning I put into this chapter, so please review it! Reviews will be greatly appreciated, especially for this chapter.

Also, check out my new KyleKenny fic, though it is a rather short first chapter. It's called Blonde and Blue. Like I said it is a rather short first chapter, but then again this story also had a rather short chapter as an introductory chapter. So read it, review it, and whatnot. Oh, and it was written for the fan that wanted me to write that pairing. You know who you are, and I hope you like it somewhat.

I'm done!

-Zakuyoe