It's a long one, but I thinks that's a good thing! I hope this is living up to people's expectations. If not, please tell me what you think. I'm not at all afraid of honesty!

Lots of angst in this one, whew...

Psst... I have a secret about the Disclaimer... but you can't tell anybody, I'm super serious! The secret is... I don't own anything that has to do with South Park. Not many people know this, but it's true...

Persevere

Chapter Six

Stan's heart pounded heavily in his chest, threatening to explode through his rib cage. He could feel the blood pumping in his veins, surging like a torrent and making him dizzy. But he didn't need the flood of liquid in his body to do that. His brain just stopped working as it tried to desperately wrap around the scene he was witnessing.

The stout councilor from before had his hand on the shoulder of a young boy with short red hair and dazzling green eyes. The older man was talking cheerfully, that same cold grin spread across his face that he had when he was talking with Stan. But the other boy looked less than interested. In fact, he looked down right annoyed.

Stan twitched in his seat, forgetting how to breathe as all the air rushed out of his lungs. His pupils dilated and he nearly fainted. One word came across his lips:

"Kyle…."

There was no mistaking it. Kyle was here at New Grace. Stan could feel his brain practically implode as it raced with confusion. Before he knew what he was doing, Stan was on his feet and walking absently toward his ex-friend.

When he blinked, Stan suddenly came to; he had mindlessly walked around the entire cafeteria until he was at the front of the room, mere feet from Kyle's turned back. He took a moment to assess the situation, but his thoughts just weren't functioning. Why would Kyle be here?

The only thing Stan could think of was that Kyle was here for the same reason he himself was. Kyle had lied to Stan, he was gay after all! And now he had self admitted himself to the camp to try to cure himself and try to become friends again!

Stan smiled to himself. That had to be it! There was no other explanation! Stan reached out with his hand and placed it on Kyle's back, turning him around vigorously. "Kyle!" he shouted joyously.

The other boy whirled around, and Stan saw that it was Kyle all right. The red head's already grim face grew into an even dark visage, his lips curling into a growl. His green eyes shaded over and his face contorted into a look of pure hate.

Kyle's clenched fist landed directly onto Stan's nose, and the boy could have sworn he heard it break.



"You fucking asshole!" Kyle screamed at the top of his lungs, and immediately the entire cafeteria was silent. Stan had staggered backwards, clutching his face until he lost his balance and fell on the ground into a jumble of chairs. "You're a fucking bastard, you god damn faggot!"

Kyle had started off toward Stan, raising his fists again and would have pounced on the defenseless and awestruck teenager if staff members had weaseled out of the woodwork and grabbed the rampaging boy by the arms.

"K-kyle… w-what-?" Stan started, but just couldn't form words.

"You just had to fucking storm away, didn't you?" Kyle cried, struggling against the camp's staff members, trying to rip away at Stan. "You couldn't even pick up your fucking bag first?! You just had to leave it at my house, didn't you, bastard?!"

Stan's thoughts raced, working their hardest to figure out just what Kyle was talking about. The last time they had spoken to each other was when Stan had admitted his love for Kyle. Kyle didn't take it well at all and Stan ran away crying. But before that… hadn't he… hadn't he left his bag on the ground? What was in it that could be so-

"Oh, God," Stan mumbled and his eyes grew wide with the realization. "Kyle, I never meant to…."

"My parents found that fucking bag of yours!" Kyle informed, still shouting. The rest of the boys in the room just looked on with bewilderment as the scene played out. "They found the magazine! And they thought it was mine!"

"Kyle, I'm so sorry," Stan pleaded, attempting to stand up. But his legs failed him and collapsed again, feeling the ever so familiar burning sensations build up behind his eyes. He didn't even have time to consider that his nose was bleeding profusely.

"They threatened to disown me, Stan!" Kyle continued, finally calming down enough for the staff members to release him. He wiped his eyes and breathed rapidly as he looked down on his distraught friend. "My parents actually threatened to kick me out of the house if I was gay. I loved them so much, never did anything wrong, I was the perfect son, and now they're going to kick me out! I keep telling them I'm not gay, but they just don't believe me!"

"Kyle I… I'm so sorry." Stan finally managed to stand up, unable to manage anything else to say. He joined Kyle in his sobs and reached out to embrace his friend.

"Don't touch me!" Kyle shrieked becoming angry again. He batted Stan's hands away and backed up, tears streaming from his face. "This is all your fault! If you hadn't 

left that stupid bag at my house, my parents never would have known! They never would have found out… it! They never would have found that stupid magazine!"

"Kyle, I seriously never meant any of this to happen," Stan tried to persuade, but the look on Kyle's face, the dark eyes, the falling tears… they told him that it was useless.

"I'm not an idiot, Stan," Kyle murmured, rage burning in the pit of his stomach. "I know about your secret plan. You thought it wasn't obvious but it is!"

"What are you talking about?" Stan asked, his voice just a hollow whisper.

"'Sometimes I wish everybody knew what it was like,'" Kyle quoted, pursing his lips in disgust. "You're just traumatized by what happened to you two years ago. I was by your side the entire time, and all the while you could only think of how to punish me. You were jealous of how my life was so much better than yours, so you wanted to bring me down to your level. Rape me, just like you were raped! It's totally obvious now!"

"W-what? I n-never-"

"No!" Kyle shouted, swiping his hand through the air in fury. "Shut up! Just shut up, Stan! I don't want to hear any of your excuses! I know the truth now, and it makes me sick! Taking out your angst and trauma on other people… on me! I was your friend for so long, and now you do this? First you try to rape me and when that didn't work, you ruin my life with a planted magazine!"

Kyle's voice grew grave and low, his eyes narrowing, and a spark lighted within his soul. "I'm sick of you. I'm sick of your perverted face, you abomination." Stan heart shattered at the word abomination. All he could do was stand there and let Kyle's hate wash over him. "I'm not your friend any more. I don't think I ever was your friend. And know this, Stan." Kyle drew closer and towered darkly over the other boy.

"If you ever come near me again. If I ever see your face or hear your voice ever again… I will kill you. You ruined my life almost beyond repair. And if you try to weasel your way back into it, I will end you. I'm sure even an abomination like yourself can understand those words. You're dead to me Stan… don't force me to make it literal."

Stan shuddered and swallowed dryly, his tears dropping like flawed pearls and splattering onto the tile floor below. He crumpled and fell to knees without a word, watching as Kyle turned his back and walked away. Stan's tears flooded with his own blood on the ground in a grotesque mixture of sorrow and hate.

Finally a camp councilor approached him and got Stan to his feet. "Come on," he coaxed softly, realizing the severity of the situation. "We have to get you to the nurse."



XOXOXOXO

Stan burst into his room, instantly finding Vincent and grabbing him by the throat. Stan had half an hour to stew in his misery and came to the conclusion that his roommate was the only one who would tell Kyle lies like that. Vincent wanted Stan, that was obvious… but this was going too far.

"Why did you tell Kyle those things?" Stan hissed, raising the shocked brunette to his feet.

"Who's Kyle?" Vincent choked out, laying his hands desperately onto Stan's arms trying to get him off.

"The boy I'm in love with!" Stan shouted, throttling the hapless teenager. "You lied to him to make him hate me! You spread rumors and destroyed our friendship!" Vincent took a breath and kneed his attacker in the crotch. Stan doubled over as he collapsed onto the floor in pain for the second time today.

"I don't know any fucking Kyle," Vincent spat, his voice hoarse. "Don't make me your scapegoat!" Stan's head thudded on the wood of the bunk bed as he leaned defeated into it with a grimace. Vincent sighed and helped Stan get up, setting him gently onto the bed. "But if he's made you act this way, then you really must love him. Tell me what happened."

As Stan explained the whole ordeal, Vincent listened with eager ears and empathized with him completely. "So you didn't spread those rumors?" Stan asked, rubbing his nose gingerly. Thankfully it wasn't broken, but it still hurt.

Vincent's eyes glazed over and he sat down next to Stan on the bed, staring into nothingness. "My dad is gay, too," he explained bluntly. "When he came out… it didn't totally destroy our family. My parents got divorced, but that was the worst of it. I felt empowered by my father's honesty. Just a week after he came out, I did too."

Stan listened in awe as Vincent opened himself up to the other teen. "Then… everything went down hill. People started talking. They thought that… that my dad and I… did things. My peers distanced themselves from me. Even the people who were my friends, people who accepted me for my homosexuality turned away from me. They said that they didn't mind me being gay, but having an incestuous relationship was something they could never forgive me for."

"I tried!" Vincent cried, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. "I tried to tell them that it was just a lie. That I never did anything like that with my dad! But no matter what I said they just… they just wouldn't believe me. I came here because I wanted a boyfriend. That's the truth. But what's more is: I came here to find a boyfriend because 

not even the gay kids at my school will go out with me. Because I'm disgusting and had sex with my fag father. People stopped sitting next to me at lunch! I have no friends there anymore."

"I'm an actor, Stan," Vincent continued. "I live for the stage. But once the principal got word of that horrid lie, he kicked me out of Theater. He said that my lifestyle was too controversial to be supported by a public school's club." Vincent lifted his head and clenched his teeth. "They stole the lead from me, Stan! They kicked the lead out of the play and gave it to some wretch who couldn't even read the lines right! My soul died that day. Everything I live for just… died."

Vincent paused and regained his composure. "I know what it's like to be the subject of someone's dirty rumor. I would never wish that fate on anybody. I would never spread a rumor about you, Stan. Not even if my life depended on it."

"Very touching," came a voice from the doorway. A dark figure entered the room and clapped its hands in mock applause. "You two pussies get together well." The stranger stepped into the light and Stan gasped.

"Cartman," he growled, standing up with a start.

"Yes, it's me," the chubby high schooler admitted with grin. "And by the look on your face, it seems to me that you're working out my little scheme in that small head of yours. You see, it was I who paid a visit to Kyle's room this morning."

"You bastard!" Stan grumbled.

"Who's that fat asshole?" Vincent asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion, but he went unheard as Stan continued.

"Why would you do such a thing?"

"Because, Stan," Cartman hissed. "I can't have you sneaking into my territory! One thing you must learn is that Kyle. Is. Mine! No one is allowed to love him but me. I can't have you stealing him from me."

"But, dude!" Stan cried in disbelief. "Kyle is fucking straight! He's told me so himself!"

"That doesn't matter!" Cartman shouted, stomping his foot like a child. "If I can't have him then nobody can! I'll make sure he lives alone just like he's forced me to live alone!" Cartman cleared his throat and re-straightened the tie on his business suit. "Perhaps one day you will understand where I'm coming from, Stan. I leave you now. Good luck on your pointless attempts to turn straight. Everybody knows that never works."



"Then what would you have me do?" Stan grumbled, seeing the futility of it all. "I've ruined my reputation at school for coming out. Kyle will never be my friend ever again. And now you say I can't become straight. There's nothing I can do!"

"There's still one thing I can think of," Cartman suggested, turning his back on Stan and glaring menacingly over his shoulder. And with that, the teenager silently left into the hallway.

Stan's heart was now totally crushed. His mind was lost in an eternal downward spiral as his life slipped through his frantic fingers. Vincent looked closely into Stan's eyes and gasped sharply.

"Don't," he said simply, his voice taking on a frightened tone. "I've seen that look before. Too many times did I see those eyes when I gazed into a mirror. I know what you're thinking, and it's not the way out, Stan."

"Oh, good, so this is Stanley's room?" The two boys looked up as another visitor entered into their room. "Stanley? Stanley Marsh? My how you've grown. Do you remember me? It's Father Maxi."

"What do you want?" Stan asked, lowering his eyes to the floor.

"There's a man who sent me to find you. A Mr. Roberts. Jacob Roberts."

"I don't know anybody by that name," Stan informed in a low monotone. "Goodbye." He went to close the door, but Father Maxi stuck his foot out and caught it before it shut.

"He wanted me to ask you if the date January 11th meant anything to you."

Stan stopped, his body going rigid. He slowly lifted his head to the priest; his pupil's small and shivering. "D-did you say January? January 11th, 2006?"