Hey guys, thanks for all the lovely reviews, as always. This one's kinda short so I may upload the next chapter tomorrow morning. Please leave a review if you liked, it helps me continue the story. Stay awesome.

Ch 16

Stan lay in his bed, contemplating. He convinced his mother the previous day to let him stay home, and she reluctantly obliged. She realized that her son should rest, even if it was for a day. It was Tuesday. He felt bad that he had to leave Kyle all alone at school, the risk of Cartman ganging up on him. He doubted he would anyways. But Stan wouldn't admit that he wanted to stand up for himself, and he could easily beat the shit out of Cartman. He wondered why he didn't fight back that day. This would have been resolved, and his rib wouldn't have been broken.

Stan slowly removed himself from the bed, grabbing his side. His icepack had melted, and he needed a new one. His pain was coming back slowly. Stan made his way downstairs, and into the living room where his mother sat watching the news.

"Hey mom, can I get a new icepack and a pain killer, please?"

"Sure, honey." Mrs. Marsh went to the medicine cabinet and unlocked it, pulling out the oxycodone. She tapped the bottle a few times until one pill fell out; handing Stan a glass of water and the med. Stan reluctantly gulped it down, the taste bitter in his mouth. She then handed him a new icepack.

"Now go and rest, sweetie."

Stan headed back upstairs and into his room, closing the door behind him. He made his way to his bed and lay down carefully. He took a few short breaths and closed his eyes.

Kyle tapped his pencil on the desk, slightly bored at Mr. Garrison's usual rambling. I wish Stan was here. But I know he needs his rest.

Cartman was throwing looks at Kyle, fire in his eyes. Kyle pretended not to notice.

I'll get that motherfucking Jew rat.

His anger fueled his will to be stronger. To show Stan and Kyle what they deserved, to suffer. He wouldn't back down until he saw them knocked to the ground and begging on their knees for him to stop. Cartman grinned evilly to himself. He wouldn't allow himself to be pushed around anymore. It was his turn now.

The bell rang. It was the last hour of the day. The students flooded out into the halls as always, and Kyle was left behind. He wrote the last of his answers on his test sheet, turning it in to Mr. Garrison. "See you tomorrow, Mr. Garrison." Kyle said, making his way out into the halls. He was surprised to see that all of the students had already made it out of the school. I'll be late for the bus if I don't hurry.

"Hey, Kyle."

Kyle stopped dead in his tracks. It was Cartman. He turned around and faced the fat boy, inches from his face.

"Cartman." Kyle had to contain his anger. Cartman leaned against a locker, one foot against it behind him, arms crossed.

"I'm going to be late for the bus."

"Guess that makes two of us, then, Jewboy."

"Where's Stan?" asked Cartman after a few agonizing seconds of awkward staring.

"He's home, resting. Because of you, fat ass."

"Because of me?" Cartman laughed. "Great. It's good to see him at his weakest."

"How did you become so high and mighty lately? You finally gained the strength to not cry to your mom every time something goes wrong? And to beat up on innocent people? It's not like you. You usually don't throw the punches, Cartman."

"Well, things have changed. I'm fueled by anger now."

"Anger over what?"

"I've already told you that!"

Kyle already knew the answer.

"I've got to get to the bus, Cartman."

Cartman blocked the path when Kyle was about to leave.

"You and me, after school tomorrow, Stark's Pond. 4:00."

"Leave me alone."

"Tomorrow. Don't forget."

Kyle knocked on the door to Stan's house. Mrs. Marsh answered the door. "Hello, Kyle. Come on in. Stan has been asking for you."

"Thanks Mrs. Marsh." Kyle headed up to Stan's room and knocked on the door. Stan's eyes fluttered open upon hearing the sound.

"Come in." Stan answered groggily.

Kyle turned the door knob and closed the door quietly behind him.

"How are you feeling?" Kyle asked, walking up to the bed.

"Fine." Stan lied. He knew he wasn't fine. He felt horrible. He wanted to stay home for another few days.

"Cartman wants me to meet him at Stark's Pond tomorrow after school."

Stan sat up slowly, wincing as he did so, holding the icepack to his side. "What? Why?"

"Who knows. But it didn't sound good, obviously."

"I'll come with you."

"No, Stan. I don't want to risk you getting hurt again. Besides, you need your rest."

"If it's trouble, I'm going with you."

"I know it's trouble."

Stan sighed. "I want you out of this. Cartman has just pulled you into our situation."

"That's what he does. Besides, it's about both of us, Cartman says."

"I know it is. He told me that too when he…" Stan looked at his side. "…did this to me. I thought he punched me in the gut, but he hit me in the side and broke my rib. I wish he would have just punched me in the gut instead."

"Or not at all?" Kyle frowned.

"Can I see it again?"

"My side?"

"Yes."

Stan lifted up his shirt for Kyle to see. He removed the icepack.

The bruise had welled in size, a deep purple.

"Jesus Christ, it looks like it's getting worse…" Kyle said, a concerned look on his face.

"Doctor said it could take three to six weeks to heal. I have to take painkillers every twelve hours."

"Are your parents monitoring them?"

"Yes, Kyle." Stan huffed.

"I'm just a little worried after you-"

"Don't mention that, please."

"Sorry."

Kyle changed the subject. "I'm not meeting Cartman at Stark's Pond."

"That sounds like the right thing to do, Kyle. Like I said, don't feed into him."

"If he doesn't come to Stark's Pond tomorrow after school, I'll hunt him down." Cartman paced his room, talking to himself. He made a fist and punched it into his other hand. Cartman had never felt a rush like this before. He wanted to see Stan and Kyle both suffer. His intentions were fueled by hate. Hate for Kyle's happiness. But he was second guessing himself. He should have caught Kyle instead of Stan. Take out the weaker man first. Cartman grimaced. "It makes me fucking sick."

"Tomorrow, if he doesn't show up after school, I'm coming after him in his sleep."