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 07

Wendy liked to think that she was a patient, levelheaded girlfriend. She didn't call Stan every five minutes, she had learned to control her temper when he interacted with other females (provided a reasonable distance was kept), and most importantly, she in no way tried to threaten his relationship with Kyle. That, more than anything, was probably the reason she and Stan were still going out – it didn't take a rocket scientist to look at the pair and know that Kyle was pretty much the most important thing to Stan.

Oh, naturally, Stan denied it; said she was just imagining things, but she knew better. She could see it every time the two were together, the almost undivided attention Stan would give Kyle and the sad thing was, Wendy had a feeling that the Jewish boy was completely oblivious to all of it, positive that he had no idea just how valued he was in Stan's eyes.

Then again, with the history that the two shared, she supposed it was probably all second-nature to them now. The red-head was, and always would be, the main focal point of Stan Marsh's life.

To her credit, however, Wendy thought she handled the knowledge rather well. She was what most would deem second place, yes, but she'd known that going into the relationship and she knew that, in his own way, Stan loved her the best he could; for now, at least, she was content to live with that.

Wendy also liked to think that she knew her boyfriend better than even he did, and that was why it had taken only one look at him this morning to send ice running through her veins. She had not seen Stan for almost two days, both of them being caught up with other activities, and yet with only a mere glance, she knew something was terribly wrong.

By outward appearances, nothing seemed amiss; he was doing what he did practically every morning – hang around some random locker and talk to Kyle, a routine he'd yet to break. It was something that always came first, and as per usual, Kyle was busy loading his bag up with textbooks and binders, all the while replying to whatever random thing his best-friend had chosen as the topic for the day.

It was normal. It was expected – the only thing not expected was the presence of Eric Cartman. He threw the picture out of whack and he was that characteristic little red-flag that sent Wendy's mind into full overdrive.

What in the world was Cartman doing there? Aside from his locker being stationed near Kyle's, she almost never found the larger boy interacting with the others anymore. Most of the time, he chose to simply ignore them and on the rare occasion he did spare the pair any sort of acknowledgment, it was to insult them. So the very fact that he was standing there, obviously involved in whatever conversation was taking place, told Wendy that something was going on.

Determined to solve this early-morning mystery, Wendy steeled herself and taking a deep breath, headed for the group, calling up her best smile once she was close enough for it to matter. "Good morning, Stan." She was only mildly surprised to see the boy jump at her voice and not at all liking how uncomfortable he suddenly seemed, did her best to keep the smile in place, forcing out a slight laugh. "It's just me, you act like you've seen a ghost."

"No, just a hippie-bitch."

Turning her attention toward Cartman, Wendy frowned and resisting the urge to say something in retaliation, settled for simply given him a dirty look before once again focusing on Stan (though, she did not miss the glare Kyle shot the brunette, nor the way Cartman quickly looked off).

"Dude, don't call my girlfriend a bitch," Stan shot back and taking a second to feel pleased that he was taking up for her, waited, watching as his eyes returned to her. "Sorry about that, it's just, you kind of came outta nowhere Wendy." The smile he gave her was sheepish and while normally she enjoyed such an expression, today she could tell it was as forced as her own bright grin.

For a long moment, silence fell over the group and Wendy shifted awkwardly, having the sudden feeling that she was intruding on something. She could tell that whatever they had been discussing earlier was not something meant for her ears. Running a hand through her dark hair, the girl swallowed and licking her lips, tried breaking the quiet.

"Stan, is everything all right? You've seemed a little," she paused, and searching for the right word, sighed, "distracted, lately."

Oh, now she definitely knew something was up. Almost before the words had time to leave her mouth completely, she saw all three of them tense just enough for her to tell that she had asked the wrong question. Wendy watched as Stan exchanged a brief glance with not only Kyle, but Cartman, before he looked at her, his smile trying to regain its place on his features.

"No, everything's cool, Wendy," he started, and she felt his hand move to brush against her arm, in what she thought was his attempt at comforting her. Instead, it felt cold and she had to fight the instinct to pull away. "Football practice has just been a bitch lately, y'know?"

So, that was it? With only a simple 'it's all good' and a smile, he thought her worries were supposed to just go away? She quickly thought about telling him how football practice wouldn't be starting for another two weeks before dismissing the idea – it would lead to an argument, and Wendy had a feeling that if she wanted to find anything out, fighting would not help.

Plus, it was far too early for that sort of thing.

So, she merely gave him a sweet smile, kissed his cheek and nodded. "Of course, well I have to go meet Heidi, so I'll see you later Stan." Pausing to give Kyle a brief wave, she turned and started back down the corridor, the smile vanishing from her face.

She would wait, pretend that nothing was wrong until eventually, Stan slipped and she could catch him in whatever lie he was trying to weave. He could never lie to her for very long, and she knew that soon, he would trip himself up, just like he always did. Then, she would get her answer.

It was only a matter of time.

"God, you are such a fucking pussy, Stan," Cartman sneered, leaning back against the lockers, his hands sliding into his coat pockets. "All the hippie has to do is say your name, and you jump for the bitch," he continued, chuckling at the memory. Honestly, could the boy get any more pathetic?

"Oh, shut the hell up," Stan snarled, and Cartman watched as his head turned to stare at his retreating girlfriend's form, and for just a brief moment, the brunette wondered if the boy might run after her – in the end, however, he stayed rooted to the spot and merely turned his attention back toward Kyle.

"What? It's true, and you know it, Marsh. I swear, that bitch has you wrapped around all ten fingers. All she has to do is snap and bam, Stan Marsh is right there, ready for whatever command her twisted little mind has come up with." Which was partially true, or it was at least how Cartman saw things – it seemed that no matter what outrageous idea the hippie came up with, Stan was willing to go along with it.

It was disgusting, really.

"Seriously, Cartman, shut the fuck up," hissed Stan, who was beginning to look torn between guilt over the fact he'd just lied to his girlfriend and anger over the jabs that continued to fly his way. The entire thing was incredibly predictable, and Cartman suddenly found himself growing bored, eyes wandering away from the other.

"Fine, geez, if you're going to get all pissy about it," the larger boy muttered, and shifting his weight against the lockers, smirked. "Though, I do hope you remember that football practice doesn't start for another two weeks."

Judging by the way Stan's face suddenly seemed to lose all color, Cartman had a feeling that no, the boy had not remembered that little fact.

"Oh, shit." The dark-haired youth looked as if he were about to pass out and Cartman had to fight the urge to laugh, suddenly finding the entire situation amusing once more. "How the hell did I forget that? I'm the fucking quarterback! Damn, do you think she caught it? I mean, I don't think she really keeps up with it but--"

"Stan," Kyle interjected, tone calming as he stood, the movement causing Cartman to lean away, not liking how close they suddenly were. "Chill, I'm sure she didn't even notice, I mean Wendy doesn't even care about football."

As to be expected, Kyle's words seemed to ease Stan's worry and Cartman felt his eyes roll of their own accord, resisting the urge to gag at the sight. If there was anything more pathetic than watching Stan follow Wendy around like a lost puppy, it was seeing just how easily the idiot believed anything that damned daywalker said.

"Hey, can we get back on topic please? Spending the morning with you two lovebirds is not exactly an ideal way to start one's day." As if on cue, Cartman found himself on the receiving end of two dark glares and not really enjoying the odd vibe he was getting from Kyle's look, scoffed, turning away from the pair, brown eyes focused on the opposite wall.

"Listen, if we're going to get through this, then we need to work together and try to get along," Kyle finally said, and the brunette shook his head, making a dismissive sound. Oh, now that was a song he'd heard before and it was a tune he was not overly fond of, to be quite honest. Just what the fuck did the Jew think this was, some Saturday morning cartoon?

His response did not go unnoticed by the red-head, who made a rather disgruntled sound, slamming his locker shut. "Fine," Kyle snarled, "you want to ignore what's going on? Well, go right ahead! Just pretend nothing's wrong and let yourself get killed, I don't care!"

This managed to draw Cartman's gaze away from the wall, just in time to see Kyle turn and storm down the hall, body tense with anger. It was an all-too familiar sight; just how many times had he pushed the Jew too far, only to have the damn kike take the supposed 'higher ground' and walk off, like some bitch in a huff? Too many times to count, he was sure, and yet this time something seemed different, almost as if there were something off about the situation.

He just could not pin-point what that 'something' was, exactly.

All Cartman knew was that, as he stood there watching Kyle leave, one thought seemed to ripple through his mind: stop him.

Ignoring Stan's irritated look, the larger boy pushed away from the lockers and brushing past his other, so-called friend, headed after Kyle. No one walked away from Eric Cartman – especially not a fucking daywalker.

Though the red-head had put a considerable amount of distance between them, Cartman managed to close it rather quickly and, thankful for his longer leg span, reached out, hand wrapping around the Jew's arm as he tugged, wrenching him back. The action earned him a startled yelp and he grimaced, twisting to brace Kyle's stumble.

"Let me go, fatass!" Kyle's voice was shrill, echoing in the hallway and somehow it managed to rise above the loud chatter that was the school's morning soundtrack. In a flash, all other noise seemed to die and now hyper-aware of the stares they were attracting, Cartman snarled, his grip tightening as the boy began struggling. Fuck, did he have to make this so difficult?

"Would you shut up," he hissed and beginning to grow tired of the onlookers, turned, heading back toward his own locker. He dragged the still fighting Jew behind him, once again thankful that his physical strength dwarfed the others, confident that Kyle would be unable to break free – not that it stopped the boy from trying, of course, and the brunette was only slightly surprised when something slammed into the back of his leg.

Letting out a rather explosive string of expletives, Cartman hurried his pace through the corridor, shoving past anyone stupid enough to remain in his way. Honestly, he had no idea why he was even doing this, why he hadn't just let the Jew storm off and pout. This was far more effort than he usually wasted on the boy, and it just didn't make any--

"Cartman, let me go!"

Without warning, a wave of need surged through the brunette, followed almost immediately after by a sharp jolt of pain that seemed to reverberate through every nerve in his body. He felt as if something were pulling him in two different directions and cursing vehemently, Cartman snatched his hand away from Kyle's arm, placing it against his forehead, slowing to a staggering stop.

Feeling almost like he had just been hit by a truck, he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to regain his breath – whatever it was, it had slammed into him with enough force to knock the air from his lungs. The pain itself, however, was already starting to fade; had, in fact, dulled considerably from almost the exact moment his contact with Kyle was broken.

What the hell had just happened?

Before he could even begin to go over any possible theories, he felt something light press against his back and recognizing (without knowing how) the touch as Kyle's, he turned, eyes opening as he stared at the other. The boy had the oddest look on his face, as if torn between worry and horror, and Cartman wasn't sure what to make of it. Then, Kyle spoke, and he suddenly found that he really didn't want to make sense of it.

"That was me, wasn't it?"

Stepping out of the kitchen, Jasper frowned and staring at the blackened remains of what had, only moments ago, been a perfectly fine sandwich, felt himself sigh, suddenly finding his appetite all but gone. Making his way toward the couch, he sat down and leaning into the soft cushions, allowed his eyes to close, food forgotten.

Things were going well, or well enough. The boys were quite willing to listen to him and even Eric, who never missed a chance to complain, nevertheless followed his orders with only a minimal amount of hesitation. Oh, there was still that Kenneth boy to deal with – he had an odd air about him, something otherworldly and having experienced encounters with things like that before, Jasper knew he would have to be careful in his handling of the blonde youth.

Still, dealing with him would be easy enough. After all, he need only give the boy what he thought was after – an answer, something to tide him over, and never mind that it would be false. Of course, there was always the other way...

No. That would have to be a last resort, as it was too risky to attempt right now, when the trust he was building with the other three was still so fresh.

Everything was still so fragile right now, and Jasper knew that one wrong move would bring it crashing down all around him. He needed to be cautious, and while he had no doubt in his abilities, he knew all-too well that the actions of those around him were often the catalyst for his own failures.

At the very least, his charges were doing well in the magic department. Eric and Kyle, especially – the strength of their separate powers, added to the bond they shared was something that, while unexpected, was not unwelcome. He would need that strength, if he had any hope of achieving his goal.

If it helped keep them alive for a while longer, well, then all the better.

Somewhere, very close to him, the most annoying melody was playing.

Forcing his eyes open, Trent groaned and pushing himself up slowly, let his gaze sweep across the small room, placing it instantly. The gray walls were rather telling, after all. Damien had given him the room after they had first arrived in Hell, and though it was definitely a step above his old quarters back in Juvenile Hall, he found the room gave off a rather depressing vibe.

Not surprising, they were in Hell, after all.

"Well, it seems as if you have finally decided to rejoin the living, in a manner of speaking."

Body snapping to the alert, Trent turned and spotting the source of the voice, felt his eyes widen. "Aradion?" The demon was seated leisurely upon his bed's headboard, tail swaying idly behind him as one foot bobbed up and down, as if keeping time with it. Twisting so he could get a better look at the creature, Trent frowned, eyes narrowing.

He looked completely unharmed, as if the previous battle had never even taken place. It made absolutely no sense – of course, Trent was pretty sure by now, that was something he should be used to. Logic seemed to have checked out of his life, for what appeared to be an extended vacation.

"Aren't you going to thank me for healing your wounds? My, but your generation is rude." The blonde watched as the demon slid off the headrest, landing gracefully on the floor, taking a moment to adjust his hat and deciding to ignore the jab at his manners, settled for rolling his eyes. "After Damien was finished, ah, speaking with you I took the liberty of healing you; wasn't as if I had much of a choice," he added, and Trent swallowed as those purple eyes swung back toward him. "You looked rather pathetic, laying there all broken."

Irritation rising at the insult, Trent glared before allowing the rest of the creature's words to sink in and, making a light sound, looked down, studying himself. True enough, his wounds were gone; even the lingering pain of Damien's previous beating had vanished, though a slight ache seemed to linger among his joints. No doubt, that would take a little longer to fade.

"Wouldn't I have healed on my own?" He asked, knowing that he did possess the ability. After giving his soul to the demon prince, he had in return received not only semi-immortality (which was, contrary to popular belief, not all it was cracked up to be), but also something akin to accelerated healing.

Of course, there was almost nothing 'accelerated' about it, really. Damien had made it very clear that it would never be an instantaneous thing; it would speed the process up, but time was still a very key factor, depending on the severity of the wounds and the cause behind them. Broken bones could take a few hours, whereas missing limbs could take weeks. Any wound caused by magic would, likewise, take longer to heal.

So in actuality, there was nothing very glamorous about any of his new, so-called superpowers. It just meant if he was dealt a fatal blow, instead of dying, he got to lie around writhing in pain until his body was able to heal itself.

"Well, yes," Aradion said suddenly, and Trent found himself forced out of his own thoughts, shaking his head, "but it would have taken much longer. That ability isn't natural for your body, yet, and the injuries were just a little outside of your range." Well, that was probably true. Never before had he ever really needed to worry about healing himself (though, the ability might have come in handy during all those scuffles), and while it helped to know he would have gotten it eventually, he was grateful to Aradion for saving him the trouble.

It was a very odd feeling, and one he didn't really enjoy.

"Thank you, then," he finally muttered, voice straining with the unfamiliar phrase; he didn't have much experience in thanking others, or even knowing what it was liked to be helped. Wishing to push those awkward emotions and thoughts down, Trent shook his head, focusing all of his attention on the demon. "Still, what about you? Last time I saw you, you were just a little on the crispy side."

Oh, if looks could kill.

"I am in the service of Damien," the creature finally replied, continuing to give Trent a rather nasty look, "so long as my contract with him exists, I am in much the same boat as you." Which the blonde knew to mean that, basically, so long as Damien had a use for them, they weren't going anywhere. Period.

Letting out a rather explosive sigh, Trent fell back on the bed and placing his arms behind his head, frowned, staring up at the dull ceiling. He felt tired, worn out, and he had a feeling that it wouldn't be going away anytime soon; not so long as his soul belonged to another. Was this what it felt like to be immortal? To know that no matter what happened, you were bound to this life? If so, then Trent was pretty sure he would like to return it.

"Hey," he started suddenly, brown eyes sliding to look at Aradion, "when this is all over, what do you think Damien will do with me?" The question had been buzzing around in his mind ever since he first arrived in Hell. Oh, he knew Damien wouldn't simply let him leave, but what other use could the demon prince have for him? A brief image of him dressed as a butler flashed through his mind and the youth quickly pushed it down, shuddering at the very thought.

He would fight for Damien, but he'd be damned if he served the boy tea. Or, whatever it was demon's drank.

"No doubt, he will find some other use for you, to keep you busy," Aradion replied, and Trent frowned, his previous butler image once again straining to pop back up. "Of course, he may bypass that entirely and simply kill you, but it never hurts to stay positive."

Beginning to regret even opening his mouth, Trent shook his head and eyes moving back toward the ceiling, swallowed. "So, has Damien mentioned anything to you about when we're supposed to go back after Kyle? You know, so he can get another helper and we can get our asses kicked, because that's exactly how I like spending my evenings." Sarcasm dripped heavily from his voice, but at the moment, he could not be bothered to care – he was getting tired of this whole thing.

"He did mention that you would be sent out, later, but aside from that he hasn't spoken much to me. I am not sure," the demon continued, leaping back onto the bed as he took a seat, "I am unsure as to whether or not I will be accompanying you. Though, I do hope for the chance, I have some unfinished business with that dark-haired fool."

"Stan." An odd look greeted him, and Trent chuckled, closing his eyes. "His name is Stan, and yeah, he has a habit of jumping in where he doesn't belong, plus, setting you on fire was kind of a low blow." Never mind that at the time, Aradion had been ready to do the same to him. Feeling a yawn work its way out, he stretched and rolling over, grunted. "Well then, since Damien isn't in any sort of rush right now, I guess I'll catch a little more sleep, mind not humming that annoying tune?"

"Of course," Aradion stated, and the blonde felt the bed beside him lift, realizing that the demon had returned to his previous spot on the headrest. Deciding to ignore how odd it felt to have someone watch him as he slept, Trent merely let his body relax, finding it relatively easy to sleep into the odd throes of sleep.

South Park woods had, at one time, been a popular hangout spot, for both children and adults. Even now, Kyle could still remember many of the so-called 'adventures' experienced by he and his friends in the forest. Now, however, the area was largely ignored and avoided, having been deemed a dangerous spot. Which, while not all that far from the truth, still seemed a little unfair to the red-head.

After all, it wasn't as if the forest had asked to be the place of so many odd happenings.

Nevertheless, the isolation had, so far, proved to work in their favor recently. They were free to practice and work on developing their powers without really having to worry about someone simply walking by. Today, especially, Kyle was thankful for the seclusion – he needed to speak with Jasper, and he really wasn't keen on having just anyone overhear.

At the moment, however, he was content to remain seated under one of the many trees that circled the small clearing that had chosen as their 'practice spot.' Usually, at this point in the training session, Kyle found himself with little to do; his powers weren't entirely offensive, at this point, and so most of the time, he merely sat on the side, watching Stan and Cartman.

Oh, that was not to say Jasper didn't give him something to do. The first half of the session was normally when the Jewish youth would get his own practice in. It was during this time that Jasper chose to work on the bond shared between the two; to test its limitations and work on exceeding them, to the point where, eventually, it would all become second nature.

His own magic was a key factor in how strong or weak Cartman's powers were, and until the larger boy learned to sync completely with them, he would continue to rely on Kyle, and the bond. Which was probably why Jasper had them work on the bond first – it usually enabled Cartman to raise his power level, to where he and Stan could finish off the lesson, sparring.

As a result, this usually left Kyle as a mere spectator, and he often found himself wondering if that was all he would ever be. Then again, if it meant avoiding the awkward situations he and Cartman somehow ended up in every time they tested the connection, he really didn't think it was so bad.

"Cartman, you asshole! That was a cheap shot!"

The harsh voice broke past Kyle's own thoughts and, looking back toward the fighting pair, he blinked, watching as Stan lifted himself off the ground. If anything, his friend's irritated look was only matched by the smug smirk present on Cartman's features and he sighed, recognizing this instantly. It seemed that no matter what, they could never get through a gathering without the two taking the spar just a little too seriously.

"What? You should have been paying attention, idiot! Not my fault I'm stronger than you," Cartman mocked, and Kyle felt his eyes roll, though he was unable to truly deny that statement.

While Cartman, and his powers, were at the moment placed under certain limitations, due in part to the nature of their awakening, he was still stronger than Stan. The fact had taken them all by surprise, though to his credit, Cartman recovered rather quickly, somehow finding the whole thing entertaining and, as he said, 'perfectly justified.'

"Boys, please! You'll get nowhere if you continue to take these fights personally," Jasper chided, and for just a brief moment, Kyle felt like they were in school – their so-called 'mentor' just had such a teacher-like voice, that the red-head almost expected him to demand notebooks be taken out and homework be assigned.

"Can we call it a day? I know we've only been at this for an hour or so, but I gotta get home," Stan started, lifting a hand as he pushed it through his hair, "my mom is trying out some new recipe and we were all pretty much ordered to be there for it."

"Well, I would have liked to get a little more practice in, but I suppose if you have previous engagements than I am not at liberty to hold you up." A shadow of disappointment seemed to cast itself over Jasper's features, and Kyle frowned, thinking the expression looked odd on the man, still, at least it wasn't a – oh, there was the smile again.

"Thanks, I'll make it up next time," Stan promised and moving back toward the tree Kyle was currently stationed under, he grabbed his bag, giving his friend a smile. "Ready?"

This was his chance and, as much as Kyle usually enjoyed walking home with Stan, he found himself shaking his head, trying to return the smile. He still needed to talk to Jasper, and though it pained him to think it, he knew it would be a little easier without Stan listening. "No," he finally said, pushing himself up, "I actually need to ask Jasper something so, you can go on ahead."

For a moment, it looked as if Stan were about to argue before his friend merely shrugged and slung his bag over his shoulder. Once again, Kyle was thankful for the others ability to go along without asking too many questions.

"If you say so, I'll see ya later then," the dark-haired boy said as he turned and throwing up a hand in farewell, started back down the path leading out of the forest.

Watching Stan for a minute longer, Kyle twisted back around only to make a slight sound and not liking how both brunette's were currently staring at him, shifted, biting his lip instinctively. He knew he needed Cartman here for at least one of the topics, but he was still hoping to avoid having the larger boy hear about the second – if possible, he wanted to keep that private, for now.

"Is everything all right, Kyle?" Jasper's smile faltered just slightly, and Kyle could see something almost akin to worry flash across his features.

"Well, um, actually no," he started and heading toward the pair, tried to avoid eye contact with Cartman, focusing exclusively on Jasper. "Today, at school, I think I did something weird to Cartman and I, or we, were wondering if you could explain it."

"I won't make any promises, but I will certainly try my best. What happened?" The man turned now to look at Cartman, who looked as if he would have liked to leave this entire topic alone – which, again, made no sense to Kyle. If it had been him, he would have wanted answers, as soon as possible.

"The Jew there threw himself a little hissy fit, so I went after him and was trying to bring him back--" here Cartman paused, as Kyle snorted and ignoring the dark look the larger boy sent him, motioned for him to continue, "--when he got pissed, yelled at me to let him go, and then it felt like I'd been hit by a semi truck. But, for some reason, I felt like I needed to do what he'd said and, when I did let him go, the pain faded."

Well, that was news to Kyle. He knew about the pain, had been able to clearly see it hit Cartman almost instantly, but this was the first he'd heard of the rest. Shaking his head, he merely looked back toward Jasper, not all that surprised to see the man looking pleased – for some reason, every time something like this happened, he acted like it was great.

"Oh, well that's nothing to worry about. As I've explained before, the bond shared between you and Kyle is in place to make sure you can offer your best protection, and this is merely another side-effect," Jasper began, and he reached out, tapping Kyle's chest. "As a result of the connection, Kyle has the ability to give you commands during battle.

I am sure you remember your last fight against Trent, yes? You weren't doing too well on your own, to begin with, but once Kyle intervened, it was clear that your own strength rose tremendously."

"All I did was say his name, though, I didn't tell him to do anything," Kyle interjected, not thinking that made any sense; then again, none of this did.

"At the time, the bond understood what was being asked of it and acted accordingly, most of the time however, a full verbal command will need to be issued. As for the pain you felt, Eric, no doubt you first attempted to deny the order?"

The responding grunt was all the answer Jasper needed, for he soon continued.

"The more you deny an order, the more pain you will feel. I've told you before, your powers awakened to protect Kyle, and the crystal his possesses. It places you in second place, I'm afraid, and will continue to do so until the threat has been eliminated." Yet again, Kyle felt a swell of guilt ripple through him and he fought to repress it.

"Man, this just keeps getting better, doesn't it?" Cartman hissed, and letting out a low string of curses, pushed past Kyle, heading for his own bag. "First I get to be bonded to the Jew, then he can order me around, and now this power of mine is ready to fucking let me die, if it means keeping the daywalker safe? Great, wonderful, what the fuck is going to be next?" He seemed to be ranting more to himself than anyone else, and Kyle simply watched as he grabbed his bag, lifting it onto his back as he headed toward the path. "I'm going home, if that is, the Jew can get back to his own house without dying?"

Eyes narrowing at the jab, Kyle stiffened. "I can get home just fine, fatass," he snarled, temporarily forgetting any guilt he might have felt. Honestly, why did the boy have to act like he'd planned all of this, just to make his life harder?

The larger brunette remained unresponsive as he started down the pathway, and waiting until he was almost gone from view, Kyle turned back to Jasper, letting out a heavy sigh; at least now he could address his other problem.

"Something else has been bothering me lately," he claimed, and aware that the man was once again giving him his full attention, swallowed. "I think it might be the crystal, or something related to it, but I keep seeing images of this one guy – there's a woman too, but I'm pretty sure that's Katharina. The guy though, I have no idea who he is, but I think his name might be Wolfram."

It was an almost instant reaction. Jasper's entire body seemed to go tense, and any remains of the ever-present smile vanished, replaced with a look of shock. Immediately wondering if he had been wrong to bring this up, Kyle cleared his throat and starting to feel uncomfortable, took a small step back, a hand moving to rub his arm. Finally, the older man seemed to recover, for he chuckled and the smile returned, though it carried with it an odd, almost strained feel.

"Yes, this was bound to happen eventually," Jasper muttered, and while the words were obviously said more for himself, Kyle still leaned forward, frowning. "This is nothing for you to be really concerned about, Kyle, you are merely seeing memories that have been absorbed by the crystal. No doubt one day, should you pass it on to another, they will see snippets of your own memories."

Well that was odd, but at least it seemed to make some sort of sense and nodding his understanding, Kyle glanced off, eyes focusing on a squirrel making its way down a nearby tree. "You seemed to know Katharina, so did you ever know anyone named Wolfram?" He could have taken the answer he'd been given and gone home, but something demanded he continue, that he find out more about the mysterious man.

"Wolfram was my brother."

Head snapping back around, Kyle blinked and staring at Jasper as if he had grown another head, he swallowed, trying to wrap his mind around the words he'd just heard. "Brother? That guy was your brother?" Why the hell was he seeing images of Jasper's brother?

"Indeed, my elder brother, to be exact. It is no surprise you have seen him, he and Katharina were quite close," Jasper explained, the strange look still stuck in his expression. "They were actually engaged, were to be married until Wolfram was killed by a rebel. He preformed much the same role for Katharina that young Eric does for you, as the main protector." The man's voice sounded slightly strained, and Kyle quickly threw out any other questions he may have had.

It was easy to see that talking about his brother was no easy task.

Silence fell over the pair, and Kyle sought to fix the awkward moment as he smiled, once again clearing his throat. "Oh, well, thanks, I was hoping it wasn't anything to worry about." Not the best recovery, but for the life of him, he could not think of anything else to say that sounded remotely all right.

To his surprise, Jasper closed the distance between them, a hand moving to rest on his shoulder and staring up at the man, he went still, face heating slightly at just how close the other was. What the hell was going on now?

"My brother died protecting the crystal which now resides within you, Kyle. I will do everything in my power to make sure his loss was not in vain, and I know that you, as well as Eric and Stanley, will make not only myself, Katharina proud. We have a long road ahead of us, but there is no stopping now, so don't let me down."

Then, as quickly as it had happened, the hand was gone and Jasper was walking past him, no doubt heading back toward Cartman's house, as if the previous exchange had never even taken place. It left Kyle, however, with a very cold feeling running through his body.

For some reason, he had a feeling that disappointing the other would be the least of his problems.

Author Note: Oh wow, I died for a while didn't I? Life got in the way and for a long time, I just wasn't in any shape to write. Things have finally calmed down, though, so let's see if I can't get back on track! I never once forgot about this story, it's in my head most of the time, but it wasn't until recently that I had any time to really work on it.

I actually had the first half of this chapter done since around the middle of October, but when I came back to it yesterday, I found that it was awful so I rewrote the whole thing and I'm rather proud of this chapter, if only because I finally got to write Wendy and focus more on Jasper's thoughts – who, by the way, everyone should keep an eye on.

So yes, get ready, because chapter eight is when everything goes down! Oris: You hit a little too close to the money, but I won't say on what points and will just hope that my execution will not disappoint! Until the next time, thanks to everyone who reads this and I hope you enjoyed it!

Again, I re-read this chapter way too many times so, if I missed anything, let me know! After a while, it all runs together and I skip over things. xD