Disclaimer: South Park and all of its respective characters are the property of Matt Stone and Trey Parker. I own only this story's plot and any original characters that may pop up from time to time. Also, I am making no profit from this story.
Warnings: This story will contain slash (boys love, yaoi, etc.) as well as violence, swearing, and, well, most of the things you would probably hear in a regular episode of South Park. The boys are intended to be between the ages of 16-18 here.
Chapter 05
Cartman wasn't entirely sure if he should be confused, pissed, or just vaguely shocked as he watched his mother, who had apparently come home sometime the night before, pile a large stack of pancakes onto a plate sitting in front of Jasper, who was giving the woman a pleasant smile. If she found it odd that some strange man was sitting at their breakfast table, then she was doing a great job at hiding it as she bustled around the kitchen, trying to make sure Jasper had everything he needed.
Before the brunette teen could even attempt to pick through the many emotions that raced through his head, Liane seemed to notice his presence, giving him a bright smile as she waved him into the kitchen and, without missing a beat, began preparing him a plate.
"Oh Eric dear, you're up! Well don't just stand there, come in and say good morning to your cousin!" Liane chirped, not sure why her son was just standing there, mouth agape and eyes wide. When the boy finally moved into the kitchen, she smiled once more, setting his plate on the table in his usual spot. "He's come all the way from Seattle to visit--"
"You, come with me, now." Cartman hissed, grabbing Jasper's arm as he hauled the man up and not bothering to pay his mother any attention, turned, storming out of the room. Ignoring Jasper's slight protests, he moved for the front door and, throwing it open, shoved the man out, following after as he slammed the door behind him. "Now, explain what the fuck is going on, and you can start with telling me why the hell you're still in my house!"
The brunette watched as the older man took a moment to regain his balance, feeling slightly miffed that he didn't even have the decency to look at least a little ruffled before the same, annoyingly bright smile returned. For some reason, Cartman found that smile rubbed him exactly the wrong way, and having the sudden urge to hurt something, felt his hands clench. He briefly toyed with the thought of simply hitting the man and storming back inside to be done with it, but there was still the matter of his mother believing this idiot to be his cousin.
That and, apparently, he had answers to the entire situation with the Jew.
"Eric, you really must learn to control that temper of yours," Jasper began, giving Cartman time to register only the fact that he had, indeed, used his first name before he continued. "I was in your house because your mother, being the kind woman she is, invited me inside. You see, after you so rudely refused to let me in last night, I'd decided to simply wait until you were asleep before making my way in."
Biting back his initial response to the reason why his mother might have invited Jasper in, Cartman paused and letting the rest of the explanation set in, frowned. "Wait, so after I told you I wasn't going to let you stay in the house, you decided to just fucking break in once I'd gone to sleep? So now you're annoying burglar, great, just fucking wonderful."
"My, you have quite the mouth don't you? But no, Eric, I am not a burglar," the older man corrected, looking just a little offended that such a thing would even be a suggested before he chuckled, shaking his head. "Your mother, as luck would have it, arrived home shortly after I saw the light in your room go out. So, after I explained the situation to her, she let me right in, gave me the spare guest room, and here we are. So you see? I am no burglar."
"Then explain to me why the hell she thinks you're my cousin!" Cartman demanded, still not satisfied with the answers he'd been given so far. None of it made any sense, as far as he could tell and no matter how he tried, he just couldn't connect the dots. His mother comes home, finds some strange man on her doorstep, invites him in, and suddenly thinks he's her nephew? He watched then as Jasper twitched and, thinking the man seemed to be just a tad uncomfortable now, frowned, taking a step closer.
"Well, while she was asking my name I sort of, ah, altered her memories just a tad. Nothing major mind you, everything's still as it should be, however I simply added a sister who just happened to have a son, who has been living in Seattle for the past four years. Which would be me, I suppose. I promise you, once this is all over and I am able to leave, it will only take a moment to erase any trace of my stay from her mind. It's a very safe spell and I'm quite good at it, if I do say so myself." Jasper was fidgeting with his hands now, and the younger boy wasn't sure if he wanted to hit or strangle him, as both options were beginning to look good at the moment.
On one hand, Cartman couldn't really bring himself to be upset over the fact his mother's mind had been, literally, tampered with; she'd never had much going on up there, as far as he could tell, and he was pretty sure nothing Jasper did could really screw it up any worse. No, what pissed him off was that the man had literally gone over him and to his own mother to be let in the house. It was a low trick and while he knew it was probably one he would play, having it turned around on him was not something he enjoyed.
"Why the hell do you have to stay here anyway? Can't you go stay with the Jew or Stan or, I don't know, a hotel or something?" He vaguely recalled having been told an answer to that question the night before, during the long walk home, but as it was, Cartman could not remember what the answer had been. Then again, he supposed that could be chalked up to the fact he'd started tuning the man out. Not that he could be blamed, the idiot was just too long-winded.
"As I explained last night, Eric, both Kyle and Stanley have larger families. You live only with your mother, and most of the time, she is away, so it works out perfectly." Something about that response struck a nerve in Cartman and he chose not to reply, thinking it best to start the day off with a minimal amount of yelling. Instead, he let out a long groan and spinning around, slammed his head against the door, gritting his teeth. "Oh come now, it won't be that bad, I promise."
Taking a moment to reign in his frustration, Cartman turned and studying Jasper, rolled his eyes, pushing away from the door. "Fine, since I know you'll just find your way back in anyway, I guess you can stay. But before anything else, you're going to tell me exactly what's going on with this whole situation got it?" Not giving the man time to reply, the brunette opened the front door and moving back inside, gestured for Jasper to follow.
Groaning at the odd feeling that something wasn't right, Stan rolled over and forcing his eyes open, blinked, greeted by the sight of Shelley's face mere inches from his own. Eyes widening, he let out a shout before quickly shooting up, glaring darkly at the girl. "What the hell, Shelley?! How long have you been standing there?" He questioned, his irritation only rising at how amused the older girl looked.
"Relax, no need to scream over it, I've only been here for like five minutes," she said, and making a mental note to try and freak him out like that more often, chuckled, shaking her head, mood changing swiftly. "Anyway, Mom wants you up, so get your lazy ass out of bed, it's almost noon," she snapped, and not bothering to wait for his reply, headed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
Wincing at the loud sound, Stan sighed and falling back against his pillows, frowned, giving his alarm clock a quick glance. Why the hell hadn't the thing gone off? Idly wondering then if he'd even remembered to set it the night before, the dark-haired boy groaned, hands moving to cover his face. He felt awful, his entire body ached and though it wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been, thanks to hours of football practice, he still had no real desire to leave his bed.
Guessing there was no way around it, Stan slowly pushed himself up and throwing his covers off, swung his legs over the bed, his body immediately hunching forward. Taking just another moment to prepare himself for the task of actually standing, he inhaled deeply and letting the air out in an explosive sigh, stood, grimacing at the sound of popping bones. Hoping Shelley hadn't lied to him, he frowned and deciding it was too late now, moved to grab some clothes.
As he pulled a shirt from the back of his computer chair, Stan paused, something immediately clicking in his mind. If he felt this bad, then it could only mean everything that had happened yesterday had, in fact, been real. While a part of him had already accepted that fact, there had been just a small bit of him that had hoped he would wake to find it had been nothing but a bad dream. And yet, even now, he could still remember it all clearly; Cartman wielding some strange sword, Trent attempting to kill him, and…fire.
Eyes widening, he felt the shirt slip from his hand and lifting the limb higher, frowned, studying his palm. Had he really created fire on his own? It sounded ridiculous, even when asking himself, and yet, the memory of doing so was still fresh in his mind. If it really was true, then maybe he could do it again? Of course, Stan had no idea how one would go about calling fire out of nowhere, and immediately found his mind jumping to all the movies he'd seen. Perhaps an incantation? Then again, he hadn't needed any sort of spell the other day.
"Not like I'd had time to say any sort of spell," he muttered and shaking his head, let his hand fall, unable to believe how foolish he was being. "I should call Kyle, not worry about making fire or whatever," he continued, thinking that right now, Kyle was his best bet to figuring out what was going on. He supposed that Jasper guy might also know a thing or two, but right now, Stan decided he would rather talk to his best friend. If he could talk to him; they had barely said two words to one another on the way home, and every time he'd started to say something, Stan found himself unable to keep going, the words sounding awkward and useless.
Whining loudly, the dark-haired boy bent down and quickly grabbing his shirt, shoved it over his head. First things first, he needed to get downstairs and figure out just what his mom wanted. He could deal with everything else after that, and possibly after he'd had something to eat. He'd barely been able to stomach any dinner the night before he'd made some excuse to get away from the table and go to bed. Stan couldn't remember what excuse he'd used now, but he desperately hoped that wasn't what his mom wanted to talk about.
He really didn't want to imagine trying to explain to her, or either of his parents, how he'd somehow created fire on his own.
Pulling his pants on quickly, the boy took only an extra minute to try and smooth his hair down before he headed out of the room, descending the stairs two at a time in an effort to reach the bottom as quickly as possible. Already, he could hear the television blasting, the sound of some reality show reaching his ears and guessing it was one of those pathetic shows Shelley seemed to love, sighed, his pace slowing, reaching the last few steps.
"Well, took you long enough." Shelley's voice cut through the noise of the television and frowning at her tone, he rolled his eyes, biting back any response he might have wanted to say. Though he was big enough to no longer fear his sister's physical attacks, the girl still had a knack for making his life miserable and, with everything else that seemed to be going on in his life right now, the last thing he needed was to deal with a pissed-off sister.
Moving into the living room, he failed to spot his mom and guessing she was in the kitchen, made his way toward the room, careful to walk behind the couch, avoiding any unnecessary contact with the older girl. He heard her mutter something as he passed by and, pretty sure that whatever it was, it wasn't something he'd want to hear, ignored her.
Sure enough, he found both of his parents in the kitchen. His dad sat at the table, eyes fixed on the newspaper, while his mom bustled around near the sink, cutting carrots and then dumping them into a bowl filled with water. It looked picturesque and oh so wrong. It was Saturday, shouldn't his dad be watching television or out doing something that, nine times out of ten, usually involved alcohol? His parents never just stayed in the kitchen together and the scene caused something odd to twist in Stan's stomach.
Something definitely wasn't right here.
"Uh, mom, you wanted to talk to me?" His voice echoed in the small room and seemed out of place, like he didn't belong there. For what felt like an eternity, his question was greeted by silence and it was only when he took another step into the kitchen, mouth opening to speak once again, that he saw his mom's movements cease, his dad looking away from the newspaper. It was then that Stan could see just how uncomfortable his dad looked and guessing that whatever this was about, it was something Randy Marsh found either unimportant or that he thought was none of his concern. His mom, however, looked rather serious when she turned to face him. Yet again, he felt like something was terribly wrong with this situation and he frowned, looking between his parents. "Um, is something wrong?"
"Kyle's mother called this morning."
Taken aback by the rather random statement, Stan blinked and not entirely sure of what to make out of what he'd just been told, felt his head cock to the side. A split second later, worried thoughts began to spring up in his mind, buzzing around as he fought the urge to voice them aloud. Had Kyle told his mom what happened? Had something happened after Stan left? Was Kyle hurt? Putting a hand to his forehead, Stan closed his eyes and screamed at the thoughts to shut up, aware that the whole time, his parents seemed to be waiting for his reply.
"Oh?" It wasn't what his mom wanted to hear, if the deepening of her frown was anything to go by. Unfortunately, it was all Stan could come up with. Not at all liking the look he was getting from her now, he scrambled around mentally, trying to push the anxious questions aside and find something, anything really, that he could say to make her stop giving him that damned look. "Uh, what did she want?"
"She said Kyle's been acting odd these past few days, he's been coming home tired and hasn't eaten much," his mother continued, and though her tone was neutral, he could hear the accusation in it. So, that was it. No doubt his mother, and Kyle's, thought they were up to something, most likely drugs or whatever. Well, while Stan couldn't deny that he hadn't smoked a joint or two with Kenny on occasion, he knew without a doubt that Kyle was clean; the boy could barely handle second-hand smoke, and he'd seemed to find the idea of anything else disgusting.
Honestly, it was a miracle he'd managed to get Kyle to drink sometimes.
Now that he knew what this was really about, he felt the knot in his stomach unclench and forcing away the tug that pulled at his lips, merely nodded, gesturing for his mother to continue. He knew she would ask if he had any idea about Kyle's behavior and he figured now would be the best time to try and come up with some half-truth, because he couldn't tell her what was really going on.
"Sheila was wondering if you might know what was going on? You and Kyle are so close, you'd know if something was wrong, wouldn't you Stanley?" His full name? Ouch. It occurred to him then that his mother really did think he and Kyle were hiding some deep, dark secret from them. For just a moment, he toyed with the idea of lying and saying that yes, he and Kyle were doing something horrible behind their backs before he thought better of it. As amusing as the reactions might be, it wasn't worth the consequences.
Plus, he really needed to think of an excuse.
"Uh, see, Kyle didn't want anyone else to know but well," trailing off, the boy searched for something else to add. What would Kyle be doing that he wouldn't want his mother to know about? Besides the very obvious things, he needed to find something that still fit with his best friend's nature. Kyle didn't go out and party, it wasn't really his thing, so maybe something school-related? That could work, but what?
"Well what?"
Damn it! Couldn't the woman lay off for a second? Giving his mother a quick glance, he shook his head, and grabbing at the first thing that managed to pop up, blurted, "He's getting picked on at school and it's bothering him." Seeing his mom blink, Stan cursed himself and wishing he could have gone with something related to classes, decided it was too late now and that it was better than nothing. "Some uh, boys at school are giving him a hard time and he's trying to deal with it, so he didn't want to get his mom involved because, well, you guys know how she is."
Luckily, both his parents seemed to agree because almost instantly, his mom's expression softened and just barely, he could hear his dad mutter in agreement. "So, that's all really, and uh I'm trying to help so if you could not mention it to his mom?" The last thing he needed was for Sheila Broflovski to think her precious Kyle was getting bullied at school when he wasn't; the woman might go insane.
"Well, all right, but if anything physical happens his mom has the right to know, okay?" Thankful for how easy it was to make his mom drop things sometimes, Stan smiled and nodding, moved further into the kitchen, grabbing a bag of unopened chips from the table. "I'm serious Stan, if it escalates any further you really ought to get him to let his parents know."
"I will mom, relax," he coaxed, and turning, headed out of the kitchen, not wanting to stick around for any other sort of lecture she might try to jump into. As he left, he heard his dad say something about a 'job well done' only to have his mom sigh and go back to her work. Opening the bag of chips, Stan sighed and at least glad that ended better than he thought it would, quickly made his way past Shelley, pointedly ignoring the dark look she cast him before heading back upstairs. He wanted to look into some things, and though he still wasn't sure if it would be a good idea, he wanted to try making fire.
He also wanted to call Kyle, he just had to decide which he would do first.
Staring at the man who was currently sitting at his desk, Cartman frowned and shifting uncomfortably, sighed deeply. "Okay, listen, we've been sitting here for the last fifteen minutes and you've barely answered any of my questions," he started, trying desperately to keep calm. The last thing he needed was for his mother to come bother them about why her son was screaming profanities at his supposed cousin. Plus, his head was beginning to throb and he wanted this over with; he hadn't even had breakfast yet! Which was, yet another thing he blamed on Jasper.
"Ah, yes, I was merely trying to think of a way I could answer your questions. I'll tell you this first, a lot of the information I need to share will not be said until both Kyle and Stanley are present." Of course he knew that already, the annoying idiot had told him that after they'd reentered the house. "Still, I suppose I can try and answer some of your inquiries, at least the ones that deal with you alone."
"Good, you can start by telling me what the fuck that Jew did to me!" He cried, and watching as Jasper blinked, sighed heavily, a hand running through his hair. "I know that whatever the hell this power is, it came from him and somehow, I got saddled with it."
"I can assure you, Kyle did not give you that power; he merely awakened it. Everyone is born with power, Eric, it's just that most of the time, nothing in their life happens to trigger said magic and it remains dormant within them. The power that you can now control has always been with you, it's just that by coming into contact with Kyle's, it was jump started." Jasper was smiling once more, and for just a moment, Cartman wanted to reach over and knock that grin off his face. Why did the man have to look so goddamned happy?
"Then why do I feel him in it? And, why is it when I tried to use it the first night, after I got home, it seemed so weak and yet the next day, when I showed it to Kyle, it was strong." It made no sense; if the power was his to control now, regardless of the lack of skill he may have, Cartman was pretty sure it shouldn't fluctuate like it did.
"Oh, well that's simple. Because your power was awakened by Kyle, it's connected to him. As such, it explains why you can feel him in your magic and, the reason for it's change in strength," Jasper said, and the younger boy watched as he pointed toward his hand, motioning him to lift it. Instantly getting just what was being asked of him, Cartman rolled his eyes and held his hand up, calling his power forth with surprising ease.
Just like the last time he'd tried doing so in his room, the orb flickered weakly and though he frowned at the sight, he saw Jasper's smile widen. "What's that look for?" He asked, hating how the man seemed to understand something he wasn't at all getting. "Are you saying it should do this or something?"
"Yes, that's perfectly natural. Right now, your power is still new and because it is so closely connected to Kyle, it makes sense that with the distance between the two of you, the amount you are able to draw forth is weak compared to the volume you possess." The man stopped then and appeared to be searching for something else to say, leaving Cartman to look back at the sphere of light resting in his hand.
Even now, though it was faint, he could feel a trace of Kyle within the essence. He wasn't sure how he knew it belonged to the Jew, but every time he brushed it, every time he brought it to the front of his mind, he just knew. He'd been around the Jew long enough, he thought, to recognize something that belonged to him, no matter what it was. This, however, did little to ease his irritation.
"Your power is there to protect Kyle, and to protect that which Kyle houses within him. What that is," Jasper added quickly and Cartman shut his mouth, giving the fool a dark glare, "will be explained later, once we have the other boys with us. Now, any other questions?"
"Why have I felt so angry? I mean it's not like I'm new to the emotion, but, these last few days, I've just felt so pissed-off." That was almost putting it lightly, but Cartman had no real way to accurately describe the sheer amount of rage that had been boiling inside of him for the past three days. It had long since moved past the burning hot anger, to cold rage and it was beginning to scare him, just a little. He wasn't used to this much anger, all at once, over something he couldn't pin-point.
"I can't say for sure," Jasper began and almost immediately, Cartman had a feeling he wasn't going to like whatever answer the man came up with it. "However, I believe that this sudden bout of anger may deal with how new your power is and how it's reacting not only to your body, but it's trying to find a niche within you, so that eventually, it will be connected with you fully. Also, the distance between you and Kyle may have something to do with it, given how fresh your bond with him is."
Bond? He had a bond with the Jew? "Oh that's just fucking great, now you're saying I'm bonded or whatever to that damn daywalker?" When he received a nod in reply, he let out a string of curses that, he was pleased to see, made even Jasper wince just a little. "How the hell can I get rid of it?"
"You can't, not really. So long as Kyle needs protection, the power that rests inside of you will feel the pull to perform that duty."
Well, that was really not the answer he'd been looking for. "So, let me get this straight so far. I'm stuck with this power and so long as trouble keep's coming after Kyle, I have to keep fighting to make sure he doesn't get himself killed?" Watching as Jasper nodded, Cartman looked down and desperately trying to ignore the urge to hurt something, let out an explosive sigh. "So basically, there's not a damn thing I can do about this?"
He saw the others smile fade, an odd look taking it's place and feeling uncomfortable under such a gaze, Cartman let his eyes fall back to the floor. "I'm afraid not, however, if you'll call the other two together, I can better explain the whole situation. After all, having all the knowledge you can should help a little."
Guessing he really had no other choice, Cartman nodded and standing, moved over to his dresser, grabbing his cell. Flipping it open, he failed to see the way Jasper seemed to eye the device and punching in Kyle's speed-dial, moved it to his ear, waiting for the Jew to answer.
After the third ring, Cartman knew today was going to be a long day.
Somewhere, something was making the most annoying sound Kyle had ever heard. Rolling over, the red-head groaned and forcing his eyes open, realized the noise belonged to his cell phone. More to the point, it belonged to Cartman, as that irritating melody had been picked out specifically for his hated friend. Without thinking, he reached over and grabbing the device off his night table, flipped it open, bringing the phone to his ear.
"Jew, get your ass out of bed and grab your little boyfriend, Jasper wants to meet up so he can explain what the fuck is going on." The voice on the other end sounded angry, not an uncommon tone for the larger boy to have and it took Kyle a moment longer than usual to have the words sink in, his tired mind rebelling against the thought of actually understanding something. Still, he managed to get the gist of it.
"Fine, where are we meeting?" He could have yelled that Stan wasn't his boyfriend, or he could have raged against being woken up in such a manner, but then again, those were all things that required a person to be fully awake. Still there was one thing…"How the hell did you know I was still in bed, fatass? You aren't spying on me are you?"
"As if, everyone knows daywalkers sleep until noon." The answer was swift and for a second, Kyle had to admire Cartman's ability to pull such replies out of nowhere. "And we're meeting at that burger place close to your house, the one with the lame clown outside."
"All right, whatever, I'll get Stan and meet you guys there in twenty minutes." He waited for a reply, but when all he heard was a grunt and the sound of something clicking closed, he sighed, closing his own phone. Naturally, he should have known he would be unable to take a day to just rest and relax. Given everything that had happened so far, he supposed he should be grateful for getting to sleep in this late.
Pushing himself out of bed, Kyle paused and allowing his body to adjust to the sudden change, whimpered, hating how sore he was. Every inch of his body hurt, and toying briefly with the idea of simply crawling back into bed, he quickly decided it wouldn't be worth dealing with Cartman's fury later; and here recently, that fury had been reaching new heights, the likes of which not even Kyle had seen before.
Beginning to dress, the Jewish youth frowned, still unable to fully pin-point just why Cartman had been so angry. Sure, things were insane right now, and he knew the other was partially covering his lack of understanding with anger, but to have that much rage was pushing it just a bit. He didn't think all of it was directed toward him –a good chunk to be sure– but most of it seemed to come from nowhere.
Pulling his shirt on over his head, Kyle closed his eyes and pausing for a moment, hating how the simple act left him feeling tired, he shook his head, grabbing his cell phone off the bed and stuffing it in his pocket, moved for the door, hoping he could get out of the house without going through a third-degree with his mother. He'd barely walked in last night before he was assaulted, his mother asking if he was all right and if he wanted anything to eat and if he was sure he felt fine. He loved the woman, he really did, but sometimes he just wished she would learn to back off.
Not that he could blame her, he supposed, he knew he must have seemed off these last few days. He'd certainly felt like it, at any rate.
Quietly slipping out of his room, he spotted his father in his study, going over a large stack of paperwork and relieved to find the man seemed to be unaware of his presence, moved for the staircase, able to hear his mother's voice as she led Ike through one of his extra lessons, his brother's voice following seconds later, sounding bored and just a little irritated, causing Kyle to chuckle. He'd never been given those weekend lessons, something he was grateful for; then again, he hadn't let his grades slip, like Ike was doing, just because he was bored of school.
He was halfway down the stairs when his mother noticed him and before she had time to speak, he forced a bright smile, giving the pair a wave. "Morning guys, sorry I slept so late, but man do I feel better!" He said, hoping his voice wouldn't betray him as he reached the bottom, heading for the front door. "Sorry to run out, but I promised to meet Stan so I'll see you later!"
"Wait!"
Damn, he'd been so close. Hand falling from the doorknob, Kyle turned and feeling the smile falter just a bit, blinked, wondering what sort of questions his mother would up with this time. "Yeah?" He knew she would probably want to know how he was feeling, where he was going and all the things she usually asked, but as he studied her face, he was a bit surprised at the expression she now wore. It was worry, a look he knew all too well from the woman, but there seemed to be something else there. Something almost like sadness, just underneath the surface.
"Bubbelah, you would tell me if something was bothering you, right?" The question seemed wrong, like there was more to it, but he had no idea what. Not sure he liked that, Kyle frowned and studying his mother, made a slight sound, hating the way she was staring at him. Glancing toward the clock, he sighed and plastering the smile back onto his face, leaned forward, giving the shorter woman a hug.
"Of course mom, I would, promise." He hated using this tactic, because it felt wrong to use affection as a way of getting away, but he knew it would work and he knew, at the very least, he wasn't lying. Kyle was also sure it would help his mother, if just a little, to feel better and true enough, he felt her relax before she returned the embrace, patting his back.
His mother was the first to pull back and he felt her nudge him toward the door, a smile now on her face. "All right, but don't stay out too late Kyle." Though her tone was cheery, he could hear that hint of disbelief behind her words and as he turned to leave the house, Kyle couldn't stop the feeling of guilt that tugged at the corner of his mind.
Quickly exiting the house, he shut the door behind him and deciding that the best way to get his mind off his mother would be to call Stan, pulled his phone out, hitting the appropriate speed-dial, his legs carrying him toward sidewalk. By the fourth ring, he was about to give up when he heard the familiar sound of a phone being opened.
"Hey, dude, listen I know it's sudden but you know that burger place close to my house? Cartman says we have to meet up there, that Jasper man wants to talk to us." The words came out rushed and he really hoped his voice wasn't as loud as it sounded to his own ears. He felt nervous and Kyle supposed most of that could be blamed on the walk home last night; never before could he remember being unable to talk to Stan.
His best friend's reply was long in coming and he was about to ask if the boy was there at all before he finally got an answer. "Uh, wow, I was just about to call you. But um, sure dude, I'll be there in a bit." It seemed hesitant and Kyle frowned, the sudden urge to apologize welling up inside of him. He knew Stan was probably still reeling from the events of the previous day –he knew the feeling all too well– and he also knew it best not to push.
So, he simply said, "Great, see you there," before he hung up. Quickly closing the phone, he stuffed it back into his pocket, glaring at his shoes. He hadn't been awake an hour yet and already, Kyle felt absolutely horrible. It had to be a new record, that much was certain.
At the very least, he hoped Jasper could shed some light on just what was going on.
"Eric, are you quite sure this is the best place to have such a discussion?"
Kyle watched in slight amusement as Cartman simply ignored the man, the larger boy too busy devouring the fries he'd poured onto his tray. He'd heard the other grumble something about being denied breakfast while they were waiting for their orders, but he hadn't really believed it; after all, though he was no longer the fat boy they all knew, it was still common knowledge Eric Cartman liked eating and rarely, if ever, missed a meal.
"Its your own damn fault, you just had to show up and fuck around with my mom's mind and not tell me a damn thing about it." Cartman snarled, and unsure if he was actually hearing it correctly, Kyle blinked, replaying the words over in his mind. Jasper did something to Cartman's mom? Deciding very quickly that whatever it was, he didn't want to know, Kyle sighed and shaking his head, lifted a hand, gaining Jasper's attention.
"I know this may not be the best place to talk about this, but since we're all here, maybe you can tell us a few things?" At the moment, their location wasn't of any concern to Kyle. He wanted answers and, if he had to hear them in a run-down fast food joint, then so be it.
For a moment, Jasper looked hesitant before he sighed, a look of defeat written clearly on his features, causing Kyle to smile; it seemed the man wasn't hard to convince, at least. In the corner of his eye, the red-head saw Stan tense and feeling the smile fade just a little, quickly re-focused his attention on Jasper, relieved to find the man (finally) ready to speak.
"I suppose you're right, well since it seemed to work well for Eric earlier, how about I give you boys the chance to ask questions? I'll do my best to answer them, and explain the current situation along the way." Kyle wasn't entirely sure he liked that option; he had so many questions, so many things he wanted to know and he had a feeling that if he tried to ask them all, none of them would be leaving anytime soon.
"What the hell does the Jew have that Damien wants so bad?" Kyle felt himself tense this time, and not having expected Cartman to ask that question, frowned, eyes traveling between the two brunette's. Of course he wanted to know the answer as well, after all, whatever it was, the thing was inside him and that wasn't a pleasant thought.
"A crystal. More to the point, it is the Rosarius Crystal, a very powerful item that, up until now, was held only by members of the Aurelien family. Sadly, the last owner, Queen Katharina was killed before she was able to properly pass the crystal on. In a desperate attempt to keep the Rosarius out of enemy hands, she sent it out to be reborn within a worthy soul. Which, as it turns out, just happens to be you, Kyle."
Jasper seemed to pause there, an odd expression settling upon his features and Kyle took this opportunity to try letting the information sink in. Somehow, no matter how he tried going over the words in his mind, they just didn't make any sense. There was a crystal inside of him? How the hell could he have gone so long without knowing? Surely, if it was so powerful, he would have noticed it before now. "It just doesn't make any sense," he muttered, not seeming to care if the others heard him or even noticing the way both Stan and Cartman were looking at him.
"In a way, you're correct in that statement, Kyle. For ages, it was believed that only those belonging to the Aurelien bloodline could properly possess the crystal, however," the man paused once again and for a moment, Kyle dared to look up, regretting it almost the moment he noticed Cartman's gaze, "there isn't a single drop of Aurelien blood within you. Yet, the mere fact that you hold the gem puts you next in line for the Aurelien throne; if it still existed, mind you. The kingdom has long been decimated."
"Wait, so this means Kyle's like, a prince?" For the first time since they had arrived, Stan seemed to be actively paying attention and hearing his friend's voice, Kyle glanced toward him, frowning at the question. A prince? No, he couldn't be a prince, crystal or no. It just wouldn't make any sense!
"Yes, technically speaking, by law he would have the right to the throne."
Well, so much for logic. Feeling the first twinge of what would, no doubt, promise to be a massive headache, Kyle sighed. "All right, well prince-talk aside, now that I know what's inside of me, mind telling me just why Damien wants it? The last time I heard from the boy, he was going on about how Satan wanted to fight Jesus, why would he pop up now?"
"Not to mention," Stan added, pushing his own untouched tray of food aside, leaning forward, "why the hell was Trent Boyett with him? The last I heard, he was in Juvenile Hall with no chance of getting out anytime soon."
"Damien's desire to acquire the crystal stems from his wish to overthrow his father and seize Hell's throne. He has more power than his father in his current state, however by no means is Damien over-confident and though I am unsure of just where he heard about the Rosarius gem, or how he was able to surmise that Kyle here was the current holder, I do know that he views the item as a means of back-up.
The crystal's main function is to enhance the magic of it's owner. As I told Eric earlier, everyone is born with power, and the Rosarius merely takes this power and amplifies it, by merging with it. As such, the gem becomes directly linked to the life of its holder; which means that from this point on, Kyle, your life and the crystal are connected." Jasper paused then, and Kyle saw him look off before, in a flash, his attention returned to the table. "On the matter of Trent, well, I suppose Damien wishes to use someone else to do the actual work. He doesn't strike me as the type to like getting his hands dirty."
"So, if something happens to the crystal, I'll die or something?" It wasn't a very pleasant thought and Kyle was beginning to realize just how dangerous this entire situation was. Seeing Jasper nod, the red-head groaned and placing his head in his hands, frowned, his mind racing. Why the hell was this happening to him? He'd never asked for anything like this, had never felt the need to be different or stand out. "Why me? Why did that Katharina woman give me the crystal? I don't want it!"
For the first time since he'd been around the man, Kyle saw him frown and without really knowing why, the Jewish boy felt as if he'd said something he shouldn't have.
"Queen Katharina did not give you the crystal, Kyle. She simply sent it out to be reborn within a soul of it's choosing, and for whatever reason, it chose you. Want it or not, it has been awakened within you and as such, it is your responsibility to take care of it and use it wisely." The words were said calmly, with no hint of anger and yet Kyle knew there was no room for argument; like it or not, he was stuck with this fate.
Silence quickly fell over the table, leaving the three boys lost in their own thoughts and unaware that they were being watched.
Kenny McCormick had not anticipated that morning, when he'd decided to visit the little run-down fast food joint in hopes of bumming some food off other kids, that he would see his best friends walk in with a man he had never seen before. Of course, at first, he had been far too occupied trying to convince Clyde that yes, he did in fact need his large order of fries to bother paying the four any mind; after all, he was pretty sure if the guy was anyone important, one of the three would have mentioned him. At the very least, Stan or Kyle would have told him.
Cartman didn't talk to him much these days, not after the little kiss incident.
However, after he had managed to steal half a burger and a small order of fries, Kenny began to notice that the conversation going on between the four didn't look casual. From his vantage point, Cartman looked pissed, even more so than usual, and he seemed to be keeping his gaze locked on Kyle. While it was nothing new to see the larger boy glaring at the Jewish boy, the fact that he wasn't glaring made Kenny pay attention. Cartman had an odd look on his face, something past the anger that was almost akin to worry.
What did he have to be worried about that involved Kyle? Because even if he couldn't hear what was being said, Kenny knew it had something to do with Kyle. Most of the time, whatever Cartman did, involved Kyle in some way, big or small, even if the brunette didn't like to admit it. Kenny was pretty sure he was the only one of the four to notice it, and though he had his own theories, he also knew that it would do him no good voicing them. Neither Kyle nor Cartman would like hearing them, anyway.
Stan looked just as uncomfortable as Cartman, if not more, and though Kenny knew that look was not new for his friend, there was something about it today that just didn't sit well with him. His friend looked stiff, grim, and like he wanted to be anywhere but sitting in that booth. Which didn't make much sense because, besides Wendy, there was no one Stan liked spending time with more than Kyle; even if Cartman was there, it usually did little to diminish Stan's joy at being around his best friend.
And Kyle…he caught Kenny's eye the most and the blonde found that, once his gaze landed on the red-head, he was unable to really look away. Everything about his Jewish buddy, from the defeated slump of his shoulders, to the lost look splayed across his features, sent alarm bells ringing in Kenny's head. Whatever that man was telling him, whatever they were discussing, wasn't good and he had a feeling that somehow, Kyle was at the center of it.
Kenny knew he was just a tad more perceptive than the others, which he mostly chalked up to all of his dealings with death, and as such, he was aware that most of the things he noticed, that he saw and heard, were things that went largely unnoticed by those around him. This however, was so obvious and so there that he was surprised no one else in the restaurant seemed to be giving the group second glances.
Something was going on with his friends, something serious and though he had no idea what it was at the moment, he knew that when the time came, he would find out. One way, or another.