Alright, so, and update! Yaaaay. Psh, yeah right, all you guys hate me now. First I raped Kyle then I cut off the story. I deserve to be burned with all of your flames (which are nonexistent, hoorayyyyy!) Anyway, here's an actual continuation.

Wow. Just...wow. That really was a really fucked up dream.

Really.

Who in the hell dreams that they get raped? Well, technically, that'd be considered a nightmare. Maybe that was okay, to have a NIGHTMARE that you were raped. Sighing in relief, Kyle finally opened his eyes to try and figure out what time it was, but all the green orbs met with were unfamiliar surroundings. It was all white...it looked like a blizzard had passed through or something. But then, there was a spec of black in the white, with a little spot of blue, along with some orange and yellow next to it.

"Kyle? You awake buddy?" came a soft voice from the orangey yellow direction. The blacker mass suddenly moved with a jerking motion, swaying this way and that. Stopping right at the edge of his bed, the blob of black and blue grabbed his arm suddenly and clutched it to him, nuzzling the limb with warmth.

Wait a minute. White surroundings? Nuzzling?

Shit. This...wasn't his room. And those blobs of color must have been Stan and Kenny...something must have happened to him for them both to be in this place with him, looking at him like he was going to burst into flames any second. Blinking away his sleepiness, the green orbs focused more and showed him his actual surroundings. Stan was sitting, hunched over on a chair next to the bed, while Kenny stood on Kyle's right, his arms crossed in a nervous manner. In the background there were very faint beeping noises, and the red head vaguely noticed that his body felt pretty beat up. With some effort, Kyle cleared his scratchy throat roughly and attempted to speak. No sound came out though, and Kenny quickly supplied him with a cool cup of water to soothe him enough to allow him to speak clearly.

"You guys, where...where am I?" He noticed Kenny sigh slightly as the blond pulled up an extra chair to settle in, while Stan suddenly stopped rubbing his cheek against Kyle's arm to look up at him with a face of shock.

"You mean..." came his quiet voice, "that you don't remember?" Before the red head had a chance to answer, Kenny's warning tone cut him off and was accompanied by a stern glare toward the ebony haired boy.

"Stan, maybe he doesn't WANT to remember. Maybe his subconscious blocked it out or something," he chided softly. There wasn't menace in his voice or anything, but there was a gentle warning, saying 'don't push him too far.' Kyle furrowed his brows. What were they talking about? He moved his gaze between his two friends, confused. They were locked in a staring match, neither one backing down from the challenge of...whatever they were challenging each other to. Clearing his throat again to break the awkward tension, they both snapped their attention back to the red head.

"We're at Hell's Pass Hospital, Kyle," supplied Kenny, reaching out for his hand and giving it a comforting pat before wrapping their hands together. Kyle blushed at the contact, remembering their 'relationship' before he asked more questions.

"Okay, so why am I in the hospital?" Stan sighed and sat up, relinquishing his hold on his best friend's arm and opting instead to put a cold hand on Kyle's shoulder.

"Kyle...Kenny found you in a back alley. Do you remember being there?" his question seemed restrained, as if he thought he was pushing boundaries or something. Again, Kyle furrowed his brows and thought back to the previous night. He didn't remember anything strange, he went over to Stan's house to study...they had a confrontation...and he ran away back home. However, he didn't really remember actually GETTING home...

Wait a minute. That dream didn't involve him getting home... Was it really a dream? It had to be. Right? There's no way he could've been...like that...just no. No.

Still...Kyle's logical side needed some reassurance. He blinked silently for a few moments, trying to find the right way to ask. This question was absurd... In the end, Kyle couldn't think of any other things to say, so he just came out with it.

"You guys...was I...d-did I get...r-raped?" he choked out, eyes frantically searching his friends ' faces. He didn't like what he saw...Kenny looked sympathetic, and Stan looked down, embarrassed. He felt Kenny's hand around his tighten in grip as his body started to shake.

"Kyle...," started Kenny, wary of his friend," Yes. You got...raped..." he mumbled, voice nearly disappearing on the last word. And that was it. He remembered last night. That horrible, horrible night... He dry swallowed fiercely and pursed his lips. There was nothing he could do...there was no reason to cry. He couldn't cry anymore...he just couldn't find the tears.

"Thank you, guys," he croaked, "for being here...with me." His voice was no higher than a murmur as he struggled to speak. Stan was the first to respond to him, giving him a tentative smile.

"Don't mention it Kyle, I'd always be here for you," he promised, clapping him on the shoulder gently. He found it easy enough to return the small smile, feeling at ease around these people. They wouldn't hurt him. Kenny spoke next.

"And Kyle, you don't need to thank me. This isn't a rare or grand gesture, I wouldn't think twice about being here for you," the blond declared sweetly, leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to his flushed cheeks. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw Stan blanch and grimace at the display of affection. A period of silence set in, but it was neither awkward nor peaceful. It was...heavy. Then, was when Kyle noticed.

"Um, you guys, where is...Eric...?" This too seemed to strike a chord with both of his friends, as they mirrored each other's dark expressions.

"He said an hour ago that he'd be here within the next few minutes now..." Kenny informed him.

"Something about...having to get away from Wendy....," Stan finished, the suspicion evident in his tone. Kyle gulped involuntarily. Wendy...was never a good sign of anything.

Suddenly the heavy white door at the end of the room swung open to reveal a dripping wet figure, clad in disheveled clothing and panting laboriously. He tried to steady himself and pushed the door shut, surveying the damage done to Kyle and giving the other occupants of the room questioning glances.

"Kyle...?" he asked quietly, as if he wasn't sure that the boy was really 'there.' Kyle waved half heartedly at him for a response. Stan and Kenny looked at each other wearily before the blond wrinkled his nose, sniffing the air cautiously.

"Cartman...," he began, disbelief coloring his voice, "Why the hell do you smell like sex?"

All eyes turned on the lone standing figure.