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Ch 15

"Back again for more, Stan?" Cartman had his arms crossed, glaring daggers.

"If you hurt him again, Cartman, I will throw the last punch." Kyle growled.

"What makes you so high and mighty, Kyle?" Cartman snorted.

"Because I will protect Stan with my life."

"Come on Kyle, let's go," Stan said. "I don't want any more trouble."

Stan had to hold Kyle back as he was about to shove Cartman again.

Kyle gritted his teeth. "Let me go!" he struggled against Stan's grasp.

Stan grabbed Kyle firmly by the arm.

"I said let's go."

"He's lucky I didn't beat him to a pulp right then and there!" Kyle paced the room, hissing through gritted teeth.

"Stay out of it, Kyle."

"I will not stand by and watch him torture you, Stan!"

"We have to go to school tomorrow and face him, Kyle."

"What if he pulls you somewhere and hurts you again and I can't get to you?!" Kyle shouted.

"Can you please stop shouting? It doesn't make things better."

"Sorry…"

"Just… let me handle this on my own. I don't want any trouble again, and I certainly won't feed into him. I won't fight back because it will make things worse than they are already."

"If you won't fight him, then I will!" Kyle answered combatively.

"You're so stubborn."

Kyle said nothing.

Monday. Stan was dreading going to school, though he wouldn't admit it. His side still ached, and he had to go to the school nurse to ask for an ice pack.

"What happened, dear?" the nurse asked Stan as he sat on the rest bed in the corner of the room.

"I, uh, got hit with a baseball." Stan lied.

The nurse frowned. "Pretty big baseball."

"It was a softball, actually."

Stan placed the ice pack under his jacket and on the affected area. It stung slightly as the cold conflicted with the heat of his body. He winced.

"Are you sure it wasn't something else that hit you?"

"No, just a softball."

The nurse was persistent.

"It looks like something bigger than a softball."

"Alright! I got punched a couple times, Jesus Christ! Lay off!"

The nurse had a concerned look on her face, reeling back a little.

"It was just a little run in with someone I know." Stan whispered loud enough for the nurse to hear him.

"Do I need to call the counselor down?"

"No. I don't want this person knowing that someone found out about this."

"If it's troubling you, I need to let the counselor know."

"I can figure it out myself, thanks."

"Alright then, dear." The nurse replied hesitantly.

Stan left the nurse's office with a scowl on his face.

I can figure this out on my own, without Kyle or anyone else holding me back.

Stan entered the classroom. It was still first hour. He held his side with the ice pack underneath, moving to his seat sitting down. Mr. Garrison was at his desk with his feet propped up, reading the newspaper as usual. The students were scribbling on paper.

"Nice of you to join us, Stan," Mr. Garrison said plainly, not looking up from his reading material. "Grab a worksheet from my desk."

Stan huffed inwardly, not wanted to get up again. His side ached with pain as he hopped up from his desk and grabbed the worksheet. Returning to his seat, Kyle motioned for Stan to check his phone. Stan fished it out of his pocket and looked at the screen.

"Did you go to the nurse?"

"Yeah. I needed an ice pack."

Stan could see Kyle typing angrily on his phone.

"It hurts pretty bad, huh?"

"Yeah…"

"I wish I could hug you right now."

Kyle was sitting at the far end of the room, away from Stan.

"That would help me feel a lot better."

"Stan, are you on your phone? Get to work!" Mr. Garrison said, annoyed.

"Sorry."

Stan put away his phone, as did Kyle.

Cartman hadn't bothered them yet, which was surprising. He was sitting near Clyde in the middle of the class, throwing angry looks at Stan. Stan tried his best to ignore him.

Stan and Kyle headed to Stan's house this time, holding hands. It was a normal occurrence now for the two. When they approached the door to the house, Stan opened it and walked inside, Kyle following beside him.

"Mom, I'm home!" Stan called to anyone who would hear. Stan's mother came from upstairs, and upon seeing Stan and Kyle holding hands, frowned a little. "Hello boys."

"Hi, mom."

"Hi, Mrs. Marsh."

"We were just going upstairs to my room to play a video game, weren't we, Kyle?"

"Yeah."

"Alright, boys. Not too long, alright?"

"Yeah, alright mom."

The two made their way upstairs to Stan's room. Stan shut the door behind the two.

"We aren't going to play video games, are we?" Kyle asked.

Stan shrugged. It was just a ploy to get his mother off of his back. Stan didn't like the way his mother looked at him when he and Kyle were holding hands.

"So, what are we going to do about Cartman?"

"I told you, I didn't want any trouble, Kyle."

"Well, we have to do something! I'm not just going to hide and act like everything is ok!" Kyle frowned.

Stan rubbed his side. "Well…"

"Well what?"

"Well, we can't hide from him forever. He's a part of our lives."

"We hate him, remember?

"I know, I know."

Stan sat down and rested his free hand on his chin.

"What if he goes after you next, Kyle?"

"He's too much of a pussy."

"He wasn't with me."

"He must have been really angry, then. He's always been a pussy when we 'fought' or that time I slapped him lightly and he cried for five straight minutes." Kyle laughed lightly at the memory.

Stan shed his coat and tossed it across the room. He slumped onto his bed and crossed his arms behind his head. "I still think there is a deeper meaning behind all of this, he's just really good at lying. We both know he can be a manipulative asshole."

Kyle frowned and sat at the foot of the bed.

When Kyle didn't say anything, Stan began again. "I think he's hiding something."

"I don't think so, Stan. He sounded sincere."

"But that's the way he gets to you."

Kyle nodded, but didn't say anything more. Stan sat up and lifted his shirt slightly, uncovering the bruise.

"Jesus, it's getting worse." Stan groaned.

"What if you broke a rib, Stan?"

"I don't know. Not much you can do for a broken rib."

"But still. You need to get it checked out."

"If I go to the hospital for it, my parents are going to ask what happened."

"You're right… well, is it hard to breathe?"

"A little."

Kyle scooted closer to Stan. "Lift up your shirt again."

"Why?"

Kyle sighed. "Just do it."

Stan did as he was told. Kyle pressed on the affected area, and Stan winced, reeling back. "Oww! You asshole, stop! That fucking hurts!"

"Sorry, sorry!" Kyle pulled his hand away.

"I think you broke a rib, Stan."

"No, I didn't."

"If it hurts that much, I think you did. Are you experiencing headaches?"

"Yeah, why?"

"That's another symptom."

"What do you know, you're not a fucking doctor!" Stan rubbed his side, grimacing.

"I know I'm not."

"Then stop acting like you are."

"I'm sorry, I'm just trying to help, Stan."

"Well, I don't need help."

Kyle frowned, turning away. "Sorry, I'll just leave you alone."

"I'm sorry, Kyle. I'm just… I don't know."

Kyle hopped up from the bed and wrapped his arms around Stan carefully. Stan tensed slightly, and after a few seconds, his muscles relaxed. Stan returned the hug.

"I…kind of needed that, thanks."

Kyle didn't want to pull away. He just wanted Stan to understand that he was there to help him get though all the rough patches. He would do whatever it took to get back at Cartman. But he would respect Stan's wishes at the same time.

"We need to take you to the hospital, Stan."

"I don't want my parents knowing what happened, Kyle." Stan tried to contain his annoyance for Kyle's persistency.

"Then we'll devise a plan."

"And what plan would that be?"

"What did you tell the nurse when she asked?"

"I told her I got hit with a softball."

"Perfect. We'll use that."

It was almost 6:00 PM and Stan had asked his mother to look at his side. Kyle had gone home to eat dinner, saying he would be back soon and asked Stan to text him if he needed him.

"It hurts pretty bad, mom." Stan winced as his mother looked the bruise over.

"What happened?"

"I got hit with a softball during recess." Stan lied.

"Well, this looks pretty bad, Stanley. We may have to take you to the doctor to get it checked out professionally."

But I don't want to go back to the fucking hospital again.

"I'll be fine."

"Stanley, I am taking you to see the doctor."

"But mom, there's not much you can do with a broken rib-" Stan started, but shut his mouth quickly.

"It's broken?"

"That's what Kyle thinks."

"Well, Kyle's not a doctor, now is he?"

"No."

"Well, I'm taking you to one."

"Owww…. Oww!" Stan hissed as the doctor pressed on the affected area.

"Yep, we're going to need to take an X-Ray."

Once the X-ray was finished, the doctor put it up on the light screen and took a look at it.

"Hmmm…." He rubbed his chin. "Yep, that's definitely fractured. Don't worry though; we'll fix that right up. Nothing pain killers can't solve. It'll take a while to heal, but in the meantime, let's at least dull the pain."

"Isn't there any other way to dull the pain?" Stan's mother asked worriedly. She glanced at Stan and whispered something to the doctor. Stan caught "overdosed" and "worried" from the conversation, and then the doctor nodded.

"You'll just have to monitor the meds, Mrs. Marsh."

"I can do that."

The doctor scribbled something on a prescription sheet and tore it from the pad, handing it to Stan's mother.

"Here you are." The doctor smiled slightly. "Now, don't bind the chest. Binding makes it worse. Just wade it out and everything should be fine within the next few weeks."

Stan sat on his bed, holding an icepack gently on his side. It stung like hell, but the pain killers were helping at least a little. He felt a little disoriented.

There was a knock on the door.

"Stan?" Kyle's voice sounded from beyond the door.

"Come in."

The door knob turned and Kyle stood in the threshold, waiting for the ok to come in.

When Stan motioned him inside and gave him a signal to close the door behind him, Kyle approached the bed and sat down.

"How are you feeling?"

"Very tired," Stan replied lethargically. "But better."

Stan shifted the icepack slightly, grimacing. Kyle took Stan's free hand.

"Are you going to school tomorrow?"

Stan shook his head. "Mom says I need to rest tomorrow."

Kyle frowned. "I'll miss you, then."

"I'll miss you too."