hey guys. I'm back. Had some writers block over the last few days, sorry that this one is so short. Working on a new South Park fanfiction as well, so this one will be (sadly) ending soon. I'm hoping to pull out a few maybe a couple more chapters out of this one (With a good fluffy cute Style ending), I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I liked writing it.

Ch 22

It was four weeks past, Stan had gotten out of the hospital three weeks earlier, Cartman a day after he was admitted. Stan's broken ribs still had time to heal. Kyle noticed that Stan was quite restless; he would look over his shoulder every few seconds to make sure Cartman wasn't there, or to take precautions and make sure no one was there to harm him. Stan had to go to the school nurse every day, twice a day, when he was at school. Kyle couldn't get Stan to quit blaming himself for everything. Some days Stan would show up to school with his hair in disarray under his hat and his coat buttoned the wrong way. Kyle was at a loss.

Soon Stan had to become homeschooled for the time being. Cartman was bothering him even more now, and the previous day, had backed him into a corner and threatened to punch him when Mr. Mackey saw the commotion and stopped the violence before it had happened. Kyle promised himself that if he was there to see that, he would have beat Cartman to a bloody pulp.

There was a knock at Stan's door. Stan dropped his pencil on the desk, eyes wide, shuffling papers into his desk drawer, hands trembling. "Who is it? What do you want?" his voice was shaky.

"It's Kyle."

"O-oh, uhh, come in." Stan took a double take to make sure the voice belonged to who they said they were. Kyle opened the door and waited for Stan to motion him inside.

"I miss you at school, dude." Kyle began hesitantly as he walked up to the desk were Stan was sitting.

"I don't miss it there." Stan replied sourly. He shifted the icepack that was against his side. "At all."

Kyle tried to change the subject. "D-do you want to go to the movies with me? Remember when we said we would go soon?"

Memories of Cartman ganging up on him in the alley flashed in Stan's mind. "No thanks." Stan began scribbling down homework answers on the sheet that was left on his desk.

"Please?"

"No, Kyle."

"Do you want to go to the mall instead?"

After a few moments of silence, Stan reluctantly accommodated. "…Alright."

The two strolled through the mall. Stan was looking over his shoulder every few seconds. Kyle wanted so badly to hold Stan's hand. He felt the tension in the air around Stan. He didn't want to bother him. He seemed preoccupied.

"Stan, you alright?" Kyle asked uncertainly. Stan nodded. He didn't seem ok. Kyle reached for Stan's hand. Stan tensed. His hand was trembling, his gaze straight forward.

"W-what is he doing here?" Stan said suddenly, fear evident in his voice.

"Who, Stan?"

"Him." Stan pointed toward the food court. Stan's body tensed. "Let go of my hand."

Kyle pulled away and looked towards where Stan was pointing. Cartman was sitting at one of the tables with a smug look on his face. Kyle approached him as Stan watched from afar.

"What the fuck are you doing here? Were you following us?"

Cartman stood up. "Just felt like coming to the mall, Kyle. What's the big deal?"

"You were following us."

"And?"

Kyle's expression contorted into a mix of anger and frustration. "Leave us alone! Stan had to withdraw from school because of you!"

"Oh, that's where he's been." Cartman crossed his arms.

"Why won't you just lay off?!" Kyle shoved Cartman as he stumbled backwards, knocking down a chair in the process. All eyes shifted to the two boys. "Just fuck off!" Kyle ignored the interested gazes.

"You're, right, you're right. I should lay off. But I don't want to. Because my life is dedicated to making yours miserable. And when Stan hurts, you hurt. When he suffers, you suffer."

Kyle balled his hands into fists. "How you didn't get prosecuted is beyond me. You're insane."

"You're the one who stabbed me." Cartman smirked, uncrossing his arms. "You should be locked up."

"Self-defense, asshole."

"Whatever."

"I don't have time for this," Kyle growled, turning back to Stan, who was standing far away from the two with a disturbed look on his face. "We're leaving."

"Watch your back, Kyle." Cartman called as Kyle walked away. "That would be the best idea."

"No, Kyle, I'm never going out again."

"Stan, please… I'll make sure nothing happens to you."

Stan slammed his pencil down on the desk angrily. "No!" it broke and splintered into pieces. Kyle flinched. "I'm not going out anymore! It's nothing but trouble!"

Stan moved to the bed and sat down, hiding his face in his hands. Kyle frowned and moved to him, sitting next to him, and patted his back.

"I'm sick of Cartman too, but we have to get through this. Together." Kyle grabbed Stan's hand. He didn't fight it this time. Kyle felt Stan's hand relax in his own. "We have to." Kyle leaned into Stan's shoulder and closed his eyes.

"I feel like our relationship isn't going anywhere, Kyle." Stan said after a few moments. There was a hint of worry in his voice.

Kyle's heart dropped. "What do you mean, Stan?"

"I-I mean, do we have a relationship?"

"If you want it to be."

"I-I just never knew if it was official or not."

"I didn't want it to be official until you were ready, Stan."

"I've been ready, Kyle."

"Then it's official."

"The question is, is this what you want?"

"Huh?"

"Do you want to be in a relationship with me, Kyle?"

Kyle nodded. "Yes, Stan."

I don't believe you.

"G-great."

"You seem uncertain." Kyle shifted in his spot on the bed.

"I'm fine." Maybe in time he will realize where his feelings lie. And he'll learn not to do things just to please me.

"Look at me, Stan." Kyle hesitated, and before Stan could speak again, he felt Kyle's lips brush up against his own. It felt uncomfortable and forced on Kyle's part. Kyle pulled away. "I-I like you a lot. In a deeper way. Really, I do." Kyle looked down, unable to speak for several seconds. His face felt hot. What am I doing?

"What do people even do when they like each other more than just friends?" Kyle scooted closer. Stan didn't speak. He was still trying to recover from Kyle's closer contact.

"I-I don't know." Stan finally said. "Go out together? Hold hands, talk, hug, uhhh… cuddle?" Stan whispered the last word. "Like the one time we watched the scary movie together and you clung to me? That was fun…" Stan's face was burning now.

"Your face is red, Stan."

"Huh?"

"I said your face is red."

"O-oh."

Kyle's phone began to ring. He fished it out of his pocket and pressed the answer button. "Hello? Oh… alright. Be there in a few minutes." He hung up.

"Who was that?"

"My parents. I have to go home now." Kyle frowned.

"O-oh. Will I see you later?"

"Yeah, of course, dude."

Stan sat on his bed, contemplating. It's all my fault. If I never told Kyle my feelings, none of this would have happened. He shifted his icepack on his side. The guilt swirled in his mind. I mean, the way I always acted towards him suggested something, but… Stan buried his face in his hands. I never wanted him to know, not like this.

Stan's phone began to ring. He grabbed it from his bedside table. "Hello?"

"Hey, dude."It was Kyle.

"Oh, Hey."

"How are you?"

Stan tried to swallow the lump in his throat. "Fine. Just about to go to bed."

"Oh. I'll let you go then."

"No! I-I mean… please… I need someone to talk to right now."

"Alright, dude, I'm here for you."