Author's Note: We're approaching the dramatic conclusion...

Because I Love You

Chapter Eight: Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again

"KYYYYLLLLEEEE!" a completely drunk-off-his-ass Kenny McCormick screeched at the top of his frail lungs. Nearly everyone in Kyle's living room cringed at the sound of the blonde's annoying, ear-piercing cry. A few people even threw their hands over their ears, unable to take the unnecessary screaming in such a small house, where the slightest noise seemed to be amplified. The obnoxiously loud drunk man himself took a few stumbling steps forward, nearly spilling the half-empty beer bottle in his hand, before two hands suddenly shot out in front of him, slapping on top of his shoulders.

"Whoa, take it easy, dude," Kyle said in the calmest voice he could muster, not wanting to make more of a scene. His hands started shaking as he struggled to hold Kenny up. 'Goddammit,' the redhead thought, 'since when did he get so fucking heavy?' He tried to push Kenny forward so that the blonde would stand securely on the ground, but it was no use. He knew that the second he moved his hands, Kenny would fall face first onto the ground. Because he was a dumbass. Even more so when he was drunk.

"Kyyyyllleee!" his wasted friend whined annoyingly, thrashing his shoulders around in an attempt to free himself from Kyle's grasp – which, incidentally, wasn't even that tight, but Kenny was clearly too intoxicated to notice that.

"What?" Kyle asked with an annoyed tone in his voice. Seriously, what the fuck did Kenny have to tell him that was so goddamn important? Knowing Kenny, it was either going to be something extremely stupid and pointless, or, the more common one, something about boobs.

Kenny looked up at him with his icy blue eyes, which were currently glazed over and slightly bloodshot from all the alcohol he'd been consuming over the course of the evening. His gaze was unfocused, and he had a stupid-looking grin on his face as he stared up at Kyle, who was growing more and more impatient by the second.

Finally, though, Kenny stretched his arm out, his skinny index finger pointing towards the window.

"Who's..." he started, pausing to let out a small hiccup before he continued, "Who's that insanely hot chick out there, Kyle? She's like, super skinny and sexy!"

Kyle furrowed his eyebrows as he shot a quick glance out his window. He stared intently for all of three seconds, before finally smirking and looking back at Kenny, right in his drunken, glassy red eyes.

"Dude, that's a mailbox," he said bluntly.

A look of deep and utter confusion gradually adorned the blonde's face as his eyebrows knitted together. His jaw was now hanging open, for whatever reason, which only made him look even stupider. Something finally seemed to register in his mind as he let out a snort and took a step backwards, allowing Kyle's hands to fall off his shoulders, so that he was finally standing upright on his own two feet.

"Well, she's...she's fuckin' hot!" Kenny declared, raising his beer above his head. "I'm...I'm totally...I'm totally gonna fuck her, dude. I totally am. You'll see."

Kyle put a hand over his own mouth, concealing the huge grin that had formed across his face. God, Kenny was such an idiot when he was drunk.

"Yeah, okay," Kyle mumbled as he carefully removed his hand from his mouth, although he was still unable to maintain a straight face as he reached out to pat Kenny's shoulder. "Have fun with that, dude."

"Oh, I WILL!" Kenny declared triumphantly as he shook Kyle's hand away. He then marched off into Kyle's kitchen, most likely to get another beer.

Kyle simply shook his head to himself, a small grin still plastered on his lips. He turned in the opposite direction and casually made his way across his living room to where the two guests of honor were standing near the doorway, chatting with another certain blonde.

"Kyle!" Bebe called out in greeting as he walked up to them. She extended her arm out and wrapped it around Kyle's arm. "We were just talking about you!"

"Oh, really?" Kyle asked, arching an eyebrow as his gaze shifted from his brand new girlfriend to his long-time best friend.

The raven haired man smiled back at him slyly.

"Yeah, well," Stan started, his drink in one hand, the other resting on top of his fiancée's waist. "We were just discussing who I was planning on choosing as my best man."

"Oh, so you were discussing it?" Kyle asked teasingly, already knowing where the conversation was going. "I'm kind of offended, Stan. I thought the choice would've been obvious for you."

Stan's grin widened, and Kyle quickly had a grin on his face that mirrored it, understanding.

"Thanks," Kyle said sincerely, not to mention seriously, for once. "I won't let you down."

"Yeah, I know," Stan said, not wanting to get too sentimental with him, although he still couldn't help himself from quietly and almost sheepishly adding, "You never do."

They smiled at each other with genuine warmth for a split-second, before the moment was abruptly ruined by a sudden loud, glass-shattering crash that came from Kyle's kitchen.

"OHHHHHHH SHIIIIIT!" came Kenny's obnoxious, slurred voice immediately following the crash.

Kyle sighed loudly, outwardly expressing his deep and utter frustration with his friend. Seriously, with the way Kenny was acting, it was surprising that Kyle hadn't just lost it altogether and decided to lock him up in the bathroom right then and there.

"I'd better go see what he broke," the exasperated host said as he unlinked his arm from Bebe's and left the group to go rush into his kitchen. Bebe watched him leave, waiting until he was no longer in sight before finally turning her attention back to the happily engaged couple.

"So..." she drawled, tapping her cherry red fingernails against her champagne glass. "Have you guys thought about a date yet?"

Stan and Wendy exchanged a glance. They seemed to read each other's minds with the look, and a mere second went by before Stan shrugged and turned his head back to Bebe.

"Not exactly," he admitted, sounding somewhat embarrassed.

"Oh," Bebe said in an almost melancholy tone. She was already fully aware that the whole long distance thing was clearly going to be an issue with them in the future, and they were obviously painfully aware of it, too. She awkwardly took a sip from her glass, desperately trying to come up with something else to say. "Well, don't worry. I'm sure you guys will figure it out soon enough."

Wendy smiled weakly, appreciating her best friend's reassuring words, when really, she was frowning on the inside.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Wendy jumped at the sudden sound of the familiar voice. She looked up from her drink, smiling sort of nervously as she saw Stan approaching her. He had a concerned, serious look on his face, one that instantly made Wendy's forced smile fade away from her lips.

"What do you mean?" she asked, a trace of apprehension in her voice.

She had disappeared from the party well over ten minutes ago, excusing herself by saying that she was going to the bathroom. Somehow, though, she had gotten sidetracked, as she was now simply standing in the upstairs hallway, the bathroom door still ajar. Her back was leaning against the wall, and she'd been absentmindedly staring out in front of her when Stan had suddenly showed up. She had clearly been too absorbed in her own thoughts to hear him walking up the staircase. They were simply staring at one another now, an uncomfortable feeling in the air between them. After a while, Stan finally spoke again.

"Well, it's just..." he started, momentarily shifting his gaze away from her. Fuck, since when had things gotten so awkward between them again? He eventually let out a long sigh, his blue eyes flickering back up to look at her. "You seem...I dunno...distant, or something."

Wendy simply blinked at him, not fully registering what he was saying, since her thoughts were still partially on something else.

"Distant?" she echoed stupidly, in her pathetic attempt to sound as though she had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. However, in reality, she was very much aware what he meant by that.

Stan awkwardly cleared his throat.

"You know..." he tried again, pausing to search for a better way to put it. He finally settled on, "I just get the feeling that something's seriously bothering you. And I wish you'd just tell me what it was so I could try to help you out."

There was another brief, rather awkward pause, before a soft smile slowly found its way onto Wendy's lips. She walked over to Stan and gently placed her hand on top of his shoulder. He gave her a slightly confused look as she leaned in and kissed him softly on the cheek.

"Thank you," she said, sliding her hand down his shoulder in a comforting manner. "You're so sweet. Trust me, though, everything's fine. I just have a lot on my mind right now, that's all."

Stan stared at her, his eyes slightly wide out of both confusion and concern.

"But–"

"Look," she started before he had the chance to protest, "I don't want you to start worrying about me, all right? I think I just need to take a walk or something to clear my mind."

Stan opened his mouth to say something again, but he promptly closed it. He knew there was no point in arguing with her, so instead, he offered her a warm smile.

"Okay," he said, placing a light kiss on her forehead. "Just be careful, all right?"

Their eyes locked again, a rare moment of hesitation passing between them, before they both leaned in and pressed their lips together in a quick kiss.

It was freezing cold that night. Of course, that wasn't exactly a surprise, given that it was still winter, and they were in South Park, after all. And if there was one thing South Park was known for – other than dealing with some kind of fucked up catastrophe, annoying celebrity, or strange new phenomenon on a weekly basis – it was the shitty weather that was generally always far under thirty degrees.

Wendy exhaled in a long huff, her breath colliding with the chilly air and coming out in a white, smoky cloud. She hugged her arms, rubbing them up and down in an attempt to warm herself up as she continued walking briskly along the cemented pavement. She wasn't planning on being in such a rush, since she was already near her intended destination, but it was so fucking cold outside that she could barely take it. She just wanted to get there as quickly as possible because, the sooner she got there, the sooner she could go back to Kyle's house and not have to freeze her ass off anymore.

As she approached the tall, eerie-looking gate, she slowed down her pace a bit. She walked past the rusty metal gate, staring at each prong as she passed by it. She finally stopped altogether to look up at the carved writing on the archway.

SOUTH PARK CEMETERY

She shuddered involuntarily at the sight of it. Fuck, this place was creepy. The last time she was here was only a few months ago, when she came with her mother to put flowers on her father's grave for his birthday. It was hard to believe that he'd been gone for almost an entire year now...

She violently shivered again, finally tearing her eyes away from the stupid sign and allowing herself to walk past it. She walked through the open gate, stepping foot on the hard gravel of the graveyard sidewalk. Her quick steps seemed to become louder and louder with each one she took. She tried her best to ignore the sound of her own footsteps, though, instead choosing to look up at the night sky. At least it was a clear night. Not a single cloud in the sky. She could even see a few twinkling stars here and there. Her gaze soon wandered to look at the moon, and she gasped as soon as she laid eyes on it.

Full moon.

Wow. There it was. Glowing so brightly, like it had so much to be proud of. It was beautiful.

Her eyes eventually dropped to look forward again. She was still making her way down the path, at last letting go of her arms and allowing them to fall to her sides. Her pace quickened as she neared her father's tombstone. She had the exact spot memorized. Twenty-seventh row from the entrance, second one on the left. She turned and stepped onto the wet grass, taking only a few more steps before she finally stopped in front of his grave. She felt that familiar heart-sinking feeling inside her chest as she gaped at her father's name on his tombstone.

MICHAEL TESTABURGER

And then, she looked at the words engraved below it.

Beloved son, brother, husband, and father.

She shivered for the third time that night. She'd never realized until now that the word 'father' was written last on the tombstone. For some reason, she liked the fact that it was separated like that. It made the word stand out, like it had more importance and meaning, in a way. She hesitantly reached out and touched the word, her index finger slowly running along the bold letters. Father. Her finger slid back up again, as though trying to memorize every curve and bump of the chiseled letters on the stone. She gradually moved her hand up, allowing it to rest on top of the smooth, cold marble.

"Hi Dad," she said almost inaudibly, her gloved hand gliding back and forth along the surface of his tombstone. "How are you?"

She paused, as though waiting for him to actually answer her. She tightly closed her eyes then, envisioning her father's warm, smiling face. Maybe if she focused really, really hard, he would speak to her. If only for a moment. Even if it was only one word...just to hear his soothing voice again...

Thump.

Wendy's eyes snapped open, her heart stopping inside her chest. What the fuck was that? It kind of sounded like–

"AAAAHHHH!" she shrieked at the top of her lungs as two large hands shot out of nowhere and grabbed her tightly by the shoulders. She started flailing her arms mercilessly, trying her hardest to rip herself out of the strong grasp. "AHH–" One of the hands suddenly flew up to forcefully cover her mouth, stifling her loud screams as she continued violently thrashing around.

"Shut the fuck up!"

She abruptly froze when she heard that deep voice, her heart freezing along with the rest of her body.

Oh.

Fuck.

She immediately reached up with both hands and grabbed the one that was against her mouth, pulling it off with great force and gasping for air as she let go of it. Her body temperature seemed to shoot up in that moment, her blood now boiling with intense anger as she spun around to come face-to-face with none other than...

"What...the fuck...is wrong with you?!" she ground out, still breathless from the surprise encounter.

The one and only Eric Cartman grinned devilishly, his twisted brown eyes boring into hers. Before she could say anything else, he grabbed her again, this time lifting her off the ground and throwing her body onto his shoulder.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!" Wendy shouted, no longer caring in the least that they were still in the cemetery and were supposed to be quiet. "PUT ME DOWN!"

"Not yet," Cartman said, and he only held her more tightly as he headed out of the cemetery with Wendy thrashing and fighting him the entire way.