A.N- Yay Chapter Two! School started and I'm all scared. Anyway, hope you enjoy!


Chapter Two: All I want for Christmas is you.

"Stan, I'm sorry, I was wrong!" She said to me, tears building up in her large, butterfly eyes. The tears that always sucked me in, the tears that I could never say 'no' to. "I promise I'll never leave you again, Stan! You're the only one for me!"

But even her desperate words, wrapped in a painfully shaking voice could not catch my full attention. Because in my hand, squeezed tightly, was Kyle's.

"Stan…" He whispered to me worryingly, but I didn't look at him. I kept my eyes on Wendy, wondering why I always went back to her. She suddenly seemed so distant and what I once saw in her had faded into a mystery.

After letting a few more tears fall, Wendy noticed the connection between Kyle and me. I felt Kyle's hand trying to wiggle out of my grip but I didn't let him. I kept us steady; making sure Wendy was sinking in the scene, to let her smart brain process all the information.

Then I gave her the answer.

"Wendy, it's over."

x

"Wendy, can I talk to you for a minute?"

The girl turns her head in surprise, her ebony hair swimming through the snow-falling air like black silk. "Sure Stan."

I lead her to Stark's Pond, the water frozen and coated with a thick layer of white snow. No kids skating, no couples sitting, no families having fun. Completely deserted, as it usually is, its existence forgotten by the rest of South Park.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you like that the other day." I say to her, remembering the terrible things that I had said.

"It's okay." She says with her high voice. "I know that you're going through a lot."

A smile tinges the side of my mouth. Oh Wendy. Caring, gentle, beautiful Wendy. A smile returns to her lips, the bright smile that used to make my stomach twinge. She doesn't ask what I called her out for; she waits for me to bring it up. But my heart isn't ready and it feels like it won't be for a long time.

The winter wind rushing through the frozen surface of the pond sends a deep nostalgic feeling through us. We used to skate here as kids all the time, we used to go on dates here when we were still small. Maybe that was the best time of our lives, when nothing was complicated and the only obstacle in life was the pile of homework Mr. Garrison assigned to us. If only life was an hourglass that we could turn upside-down any time we wished.

"Kyle says hi."

"Huh?"

The first time I have granted Kyle's wish, and Wendy seems as equally surprised by my words as I am towards myself.

"He always asks me to send you his regards. But I always say no, because I know what he means when he asks me to. But really, I know. We are due in for a talk"

"I thought this would only take a minute?"

Oops. "Um, yeah, sorry, it might take a bit longer than that,"

"I'm joking," She chuckles softly. "Besides, we are due in for a talk." Her voice sings, just as it used to. It makes me believe that she hasn't changed since we were kids. But I know, everyone has changed, especially over the last few months.

We sit ourselves on the large rock sitting on the bank of the lake. It's where we can feel the wind most strongly, and it's where we always used to sit.

"It's strange…" She says to herself quietly.

"What is?"

She gives me a small smile. "I kind of know what you're going to say, but I'm not sad. I can't feel anything…" Then her eyes drop to her feet, dangling off the wood. My eyes follow her glance. "Do you remember when we ended?"

She says 'ended' because it's not only once or twice that we broke up.

"Yeah…"

A pause. "I thought we would always end up together. That no matter how many times we broke up, we would always come back together again." She breathes and looks up, her eyes dyeing in the colour of the sunset. "But when I saw you two holding hands, there was a part of me that thought 'finally'. I guess I was always suspecting you two would be together. And I thought that, when it happens, there wouldn't be any space between you two to fit anyone else. Even me. Even now, after you guys separated, that hasn't changed. Because you two still love each other."

I keep quiet, my mouth hang open, but unable to say anything. Listening to someone talk about your feelings like that is quite embarrassing. I can feel my cheeks warm up a bit.

"But I don't get it!" She suddenly bursts, making me shuffle in my spot. "If you guys still love each other so much, then why did you guys break up?" And she looks into my eyes, serious and firm, but it instantly drops to the ground. And whispers, "Why don't you stay together? At least until the end…"

'The end…' My heart jolts at that word, but I don't do or say anything to accuse her for saying it.

"I still want to be with him, but if he wants to separate, then…" A flash of memory floats through my head. Kyle's pain, his tightly clenched fists and the glowing moon reflected in his watering eyes. "And I know why he wanted to break up. And why he asks me to send you my greetings…"

"Why?" I notice that I was mostly talking to myself and feel Wendy's curious eyes staring at me.

"Because he's scared. He wanted to break up and then he wanted me to talk to you. So then, we might end up back together again. He's scared that he'll leave me all alone, because he's too kind. He did all that so I can move on after he's gone. But he doesn't notice, it's too late. I already love him so much, in all ways possible. I already can't live without him."

When I notice, I'm shaking in my own grip. Wrapping my arms around my head, desperate to keep my head from exploding and to hide my face from the girl sitting next to me. I can feel her gentle but sad eyes on me, gentle, but it feels piercing.

"It's so cruel isn't it? No matter how much it hurts, people can't die from sadness." Wendy mutters. "Even you Stan, you'll live. No matter what happens. You'll see."

"…I guess. But unlike Kyle, I don't want to make any plans for after he's gone. My imagination isn't good. I can't imagine what it would be like without him."

The lake, trees, snow, mountain, all dye in the burning red of the sunset. I really like that colour, but it always burns out too quickly.

x

"Hey Kyle." But no voice welcomes me in. He's asleep again. "Sorry there's no one else with me today. It's been hard to contact either of them since the holidays started. They both seem to be away every time I go to their house."

But to tell the truth, I like visiting Kyle alone more than anything. With no one else in this pale white room I can have all of Kyle to myself. No matter how awful that may sound.

His red eyelashes rest on his eyes lightly; there isn't a tension in his face. Every inch of his body seems to be released into complete relaxation, not a twitch, not a sound. He lies there like a statue carved out of marble, white, still and silent. If I only gave him a quick glance it would be hard to tell if he's alive at all. The sound of the machines beeping to the rhythm of his heartbeat and the slight warmness of his hand are the only things that tell me that he's still alive.

"My parents are leaving today, they won't be back 'till the day after tomorrow. I remember what you asked me, but I'm not going." I imagine him complaining to me at this point. "I always listened to your favours. Let me have it my way just this once." I smile then see him give up with a small pout. In reality, he's still asleep.

I wonder if he's going to sleep through the whole session. He needs his sleep, I know, I keep telling myself that. I bet he'll get mad again if I don't wake him up, although I won't.

"I talked to Wendy yesterday, like you wanted me to. I know you were intending me to get back with her or something, but I didn't talk with her for that. Actually, it's quite the opposite of that. We talked, and now everything is in the past. We are friends now, but I feel like the small knots holding us together have completely untangled and separated away."

He doesn't say anything. Of course, he's asleep, and part of me is relieved about that. I let out a small breath.

"Look, I should go now, my parents would be leaving soon. But I'll come back tomorrow and wish you a merry Christmas." I can see him scoff at me and I laugh quietly, careful not to wake him, even though I'm dying to hear his voice.

"See ya." I squeeze his hand before letting go. But suddenly, everything in me piles into a large wave of emotions. Unexplainable sadness, vanity, and want, overwhelming need for him.

My hand brushes his cheek, the warmness that was in his skin a second ago seems to have turned into ice. And I press my lips against his still ones, carefully, but firmly, because he feels like he might shatter into a million pieces. It's as though I'm kissing a statue, but everything is there, Kyle's there. A sudden thought tells me that even if he were awake, he wouldn't have refused my kiss. And that in that alone, would have been a sad thing.

"Bye." I tell him and make my way out the door. No voice that would stop me. Our routine has completely ended.

x

I hear the sound of the car door shut and I run down the stairs.

"Stan, we're leaving!" My mum calls.

"Okay" I return, bringing myself to a break by crashing against the front door. I'm six-feet, not exactly mucho-man, but trained, and I am in the last year of high school, yet she still eyes me worryingly as if I'm a baby.

"Are you sure you're okay to stay here all by yourself? I mean, we don't have to go…"

"No it's okay, you go! How old do you think I am anyway?" I interrupt her. She points her finger against her chin and thinks for a second.

"Um, I don't know… seven?"

"Teen mum. Seven-teen" I exaggerate.

"Seven, seventeen, what's the difference?" But she chuckles and slides into the car. "Call us if anything goes wrong, okay? Merry Christmas! Love you!"

"Bye Stan!" My father waves with a stupid smile.

Watching the car pull out of the driveway, I mutter a couple 'yeah's under my breath and shut the door, noticing how silent the house has become. No friends and no family. Six hours to Christmas and I feel like I haven't been so alone in my whole life.

I turn the radio on to fill in the eerie silence but all they're playing are stupid Christmas songs. I take a random pick, they're all the same anyway, and crush onto the couch, exhausted. When I hear the radio playing 'All I want for Christmas is you' I scoff to myself and roll over. How unimaginative…

It doesn't take me until the end of the song to fall asleep.

I'm waken up by the tearing sound of the phone ringing not an hour later. The radio is playing 'Silent Night' now. The soft, calming sound nearly sends me into another sleep, but the phone rings into my ears again. I groan and roll off the couch, heading for the phone, desperate to stop that banging noise.

"Hello?" I mumble into the speaker.

"Stan? Is this Stan Marsh?" A high, shaky voice with an accent that pulls the top of my nose calls from the phone.

"Yeah, this is Stan. What is it Mrs. Broflovski?" I say trying to hide my sleepy tone. But all I hear is silence, then some shaky breathing and an aggressive hiccup. She seems to be under immense grief, not even being able to talk. Which only leads to one thing. Sleepiness instantly disappears under my sudden freeze. Worry overcomes me, and I feel like my insides have been replaces with ice. "Mrs. Broflovski! What's wrong? What's happened?" I plead.

"It's Kyle…" She squeezes out, agonisingly. "…You should come to the hospital, quickly. He might, not be long"

The phone slips out of my hand and hits the ground with a large thud. But I don't stop to put it back in its place. My feet have already headed out the front door with full speed; the sound of 'Holy Night' fades away as the door shuts behind me. I don't even bother to lock the house.

"Fuck!" I just notice the time and find out that the next bus won't be until tomorrow morning. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit…" How long is 'not long'? Damn it. How long would it take me to sprint up to the hospital? An hour? Two? Fuck! But I guess it's the only choice I have.

"GOD DAMN IT!" I shout and take off. But just as I start my feet, a car suddenly pulls over in front of me, nearly crushing me on the way. I stop frozen in shock, noticing whose car it is and stare at the window rolling down.

"Get in the car douchebag" A familiar face says, a face that I've been looking for the last few days.

"Cartman?"

"Just get in the fucking car Marsh!" Another voice roars through the window, pushing past the chubby driver. Another person I've been looking for. "HURRY UP STAN!" Kenny's scream instantly breaks my freeze and I jump into the back seat.

"What are you guys doing here?"

"Picking you up, stupid asshole."

Cartman hisses, and that's enough for me. I can't think anything through right now. My whole mind is on the dying boy lying in his hospital bed.

'Silent Night' still rings through my head endlessly as I look out the window, watching the car push through the aggressive snow.

"Come on Kyle…"

x

He shook his head in complete refusal.

"No, nope, nuh-ah."

"Why not?" I asked him, honestly confused. But he shot his emerald eyes at me as if I was a complete and utter idiot.

"Dude, seriously? I'm not going to stay in hospital for the rest of my life."

"Why not?" Cartman mocked. "It's not like you have a long life ahead of you anyway."

"Shut up Cartman or you'll be dead before me!" Kyle snarled back. But my stomach flipped at Cartman's words.

"Don't say that dude. It's not like Kyle dying is a hundred percent yet." Kyle froze his fist in the air that was aiming for Cartman and fell into a still silence. Come to think about it, it was always me who was the stupid one.

"But Kyle, didn't the doctors advise you to?" Kenny suggested, more so as a statement than an advise coming from worry.

"…Whatever you say, I'm not going to the hospital." Kyle said. "I'd rather die in a basketball game than in between the sheets of a hospital bed."

I never thought that it would be that easy, but I think Kyle knew even better than me.

A few months later, Kyle moved into the hospital. When I asked him why he just grinned and said that I had to be grateful for him listening to my words. But I knew why.

The way people treated him at home and at school were as if he was already shattered glass. He'd rather have been at hospital alone than to be forcing people around him to act nice and sensitive and to watch all their worried faces. I bet that's how Kyle felt. If he was at hospital only seeing the limited amount of people that wanted to see him, then he could put all his energy it on that small amount of time to act his most lively. But even that didn't last forever.

Maybe all it ever did was take our time away from Kyle. Or could it be that that is what he wanted?

I guess he never knew that too much kindness could hurt someone.

x

We all practically tumble out of the car, ignoring the voices screaming that we couldn't park here, wherever we just parked. All three of us are blinded; we can only see one thing.

"Kyle!" We all yell, barging into the small room at the end of the third floor. But the only thing that welcomes us in are piecing eyes and the sound of large sniffing. There are already four people in the room before us: Mr and Mrs Broflovski, Ike and Kyle. Kyle, with machines breathing for him, as if he couldn't breathe for himself.

Finally for the first time, I understand that he's dying.

"What happened Mrs. Broflovski?" Kenny's voice echoes around me.

"What's wrong with Kyle?" Time moves around me.

"I don't know but- It's the doctors, they… said that, Kyle doesn't have much time left and…" Ike's crying. That's strange. I don't remember the last time I've heard him cry; he's always so mature for his age…

"Did you hear that Stan?" Someone calls me, I wonder who…

"Stan!" When I notice, Kenny is shaking me back to reality. "Did you just hear that Stan?"

"Hear what?" I ask him, taking my eyes off Kyle to stare into his. But he ducks his head to avoid my eyes, his hands gripping onto my shoulders.

"Kyle…" He gulps. "Kyle probably won't survive the night…"

My lungs stop. The time stops. But when I look at Kyle I see his breath spread into his mask, disappear, and spread again. It feels like he's the only one in the room with the time still moving, leaving the rest of us behind.

Kenny tumbles a few steps backwards as I push his hands off my shoulders. "No…" My feet move towards the boy lying on the bed. "No…" My feet wobble and I steady myself quickly onto the side of the bed, looking into Kyle's sleeping face. Sleeping?

"Kyle, come on, wake up." But the boy doesn't wake. "They're lying, right Kyle? Wake up." My hand grips his arm but he doesn't respond. Someone whispers my name behind me but I ignore it. "Come on Kyle! Wake up! Wake up!" I scream, shaking his arm. Someone yells my name behind me but I still ignore it, instead I continue to shout at Kyle. But even my vision of him begins to blur.

Finally, someone grabs me from the back and separates me from Kyle, not letting me shake him violently anymore. But I squirm in the grip trying to get closer to Kyle, still shouting his name.

"Stop it Stan! He can't hear you!" With those words my body falls to an instant stop, dangling from my arms, gaping at the sleeping boy lying in front of me. He looks so peaceful, he's still breathing, he is only asleep.

"No…" He's still alive.

I rip the person off my back and run out the room, ignoring the voices calling my name. He's still alive, he only needs help. There must be help.

I stumble out the hospital remembering there aren't any more buses until tomorrow. Three hours to Christmas. I can't drive, and I don't want to waste time on going back to ask Cartman for a drive. Then I have only one choice: run.

Don't think about how long it would take. Just listen to your breath, keep your muscles moving, feel the cold wind on your face and run Stan, run.

The steep hill makes me lose control of my speed; the only way for me to stop now would be to crush into something or wait for the hill to become flat. Either way, I can't stop until I reach South Park.

I can't feel the time pass, but I slowly feel my body beginning to break down. My muscles scream, the soles of my feet feel like they're wearing off. My lungs are about to explode and my throat feels like it's becoming to rust. My whole body feels like it's shutting down but the only thing I can do is run, run for his life. I can't see anything, I lost my eyesight in the wind ages ago, and there's an agonising ringing sound in my ears. But all I do is run, until I stumble over a dent in the road.

"Ahh…" I hiss in pain, feeling my skin turning cold, but burn at the same time. But there's no time to rest. I punch the ground and lift myself up, groaning a bit, but let out a sigh of relief when I see the sign just above my head labelled 'South Park'.

I've arrived! Finally! Thank god, now I can…

…What? What can I do now? Find help. From whom? What can possibly save Kyle now? What did I ever think could save Kyle now?

"Ha…!" An airy laugh escapes my throat.

I've barged out of the hospital and ran down the mountains, forcing my body to move until near-breakdown. And for what? To keep myself from looking at Kyle, to avoid watching him take his last breath? Even at the very end, all I was doing was running away from him?

The snow dances around me in a mocking away, as if to tell me how pathetic I am. And I know. My hand grips onto a pile of snow with nowhere else to point its rage.

"FUCK!" I scream at the top of my lungs, but my voice disappears under the sound of the roaring wind. I finally taste the bitterness of despair. Bitterness? That's an understatement. It's like draining acid down dry, feeling my throat and insides burn like lava. And the fact that I can't even hear my own screams and cries makes it worse. The only thing that can save Kyle now, is someone who could bring the dead back to life.

Someone like…

Wait- back from the dead?

I swing my head up in realisation.

That's it.

The strength in my grip flows away, letting the melted snow leak through the gap between my fingers. My legs straighten up and I rise into the air. Knowing my destination, my legs begin to move, and slowly turn into a sprint.

There are two people in South Park who have risen from the death. One being Kenny, who is practically immortal, but everyone knows that's because his parents entered a weird cult when he was a baby. The question is the second person. He suddenly came back one day and no one even asked him how he did it. If he told me how he came back, then maybe that would be a chance for me to save Kyle…

And I run.

x

"Come on open up!" I bang my fist against the door, nearly breaking through the wood. "I know you're in there! Open the door!" I shout, knowing that it would only be scaring him. But I can't control myself properly. "Please…" I plead, losing my last strength and sliding to the ground. "Please… I need you…"

A sudden 'crack' comes from the door, the sound of the door unlocking. Then it slowly creaks open, the wood sliding away from my fists.

"Oh why, Stan… What has brought you here? You seem awfully stressed and-"

"Pip!" I call to the blond when his itchy accent enters my ears and grab onto his shoulders, nearly tackling him to the ground with the force.

"Good Lord!" He gasps. "Oh Stan, please calm down, and do tell me what has happened! If you tell me, I'll do my best to help-"

"It's Kyle-" I breathe, not even sure if he knows Kyle and my relationship. Either way, he nods for me to continue. "They say that he's going to die tonight."

"Oh, dear!" He says, surprised, but at least he remembers who 'Kyle' is and it also seems like he found out what I'm here for. I hug tightly onto the English boy and beg, something I never even imagined myself doing to him. He seems like he lost his voice at my behaviour, but he rubs my back as if to cheer me up and unties me off of him, trying to calm me down.

"Well, you know…" He says quietly. "You could always ask Damien."


A.N- Yay, Damien! Thanks for reading! (If there is anyone I guess). And I am so excited about Damien… and Kyle…(Sorry Stan!)

Anyway, thanks again!