A dark pair of tired blue eyes blinked open slow and steady. The vision was blurred, it took a few flickers of his eyelids to adjust to the florescent lighting and the unfamiliar surroundings. Leopold moaned low at the way his chest burned and ached, his head turned from one side to the other as he tested his movement.

"Ah," came a deep voice at his side and the fair haired boy snapped his gaze around towards a man dressed in a long white coat. Undoubtedly, this was his doctor. "Looks like you're finally awake. How's your head feeling? Can you tell me your name?"

The boy blinked, running his tongue back and forth over the inside of his bottom lip. He honestly was in no mood to take the Stupid Quiz at the moment, but he supposed it wouldn't be so terrible to simply get it out of the way. "Leopold Stotch s-sir," his voice came scraping out like a croak, as though it hadn't been used for quite some time.

The doctor scribbled something onto his clipboard for a moment, then peered down at Leopold through a pair of square rimmed lenses. "I checked your vital signs while you were out. Everything seems to be in order. You hadn't woken up in a full week now. Apparently, some bypasser found you a little ways from Hooters, passed out in a hailstorm. I'll call your parents right away and let them know that you're awake. But first, I'd like to take another blood sample just to ensure that everything is fine."

Leopold shivered in his stiff mattress. He had just opened his eyes from being struck by lightning, and already he was being bombarded with needles and his parents. Could things be any worse? He turned away and squeezed his eyes shut while the long point of the needle pricked into his arm, scarlet liquid being sucked up into the tube connected.

A circular band aid was placed over the mark once the device was removed to seal off the flow of anymore blood. The amount Leopold had unwillingly donated was sure to be replaced into a vile. However, as the doctor moved towards the cabinet with the needle pointing up, a strange humming and crackling sound interrupted his focus. Leopold and the doctor both looked towards the blood filled needle as it proceeded to shake and spark with electricity. The doctor opened his mouth as though to give some sort of explanation, but the glass shattered suddenly and the man jumped away in surprise.

The blood spattered across the floor, bubbling and sizzling until it melted into nothing but a light pink stain. Leopold sat up straight in his bed and stared at the floor with an air of disbelief. What did this mean? Was he suffering from a fatal disease? Perhaps, because he was such an unlucky soul, death was standing in, just around the corner and awaiting his moment of weakness.

The doctor seemed utterly surprised as well though. And that was most frightening of all. How was it that a man who had dedicated his life to knowing everything- natural or not- medically reviewed as wrong appeared baffled by this? Leopold knew better than to take this lightly, as he had read many comic books where similar acts had been made. When the doctor could not explain what was wrong, something beyond comperhension was about to take place.

The doctor touched his own forehead frightfully, eyes glued and aghast to the floor. After the frozen wave passed over, he mumbled something about going for help before turning and fleeing from the room. Leopold relaxed into his bed, heart thrumming like pain in his chest. He wondered quietly if he was to blame for this, as he was not normally able to tell the difference. Everything was his fault more often than not. However, the air lacked in answering, he could only sit and wait for his more than shocked doctor to return.

§

Cartman and his superhero quests were taking off quite nicely for someone as amateur as himself. He liked being able to move like a shadow in the night, wiping away the smug grin of all the filth that lingered like a disease in his supposedly quiet town. During the day, he was simply Eric Cartman. The rich little prick too clever and sharped tongue for his own good who apparently never left his manor. And at night, he was The Coon. Masked hero with viciously sharp claws and moved like a dark shadow in the night, sifting through the trash and taking it out with little effort.

Uncharacteristically enough, Cartman couldn't take too much pride in this. He'd contemplated this for hours in his study after successfully patrolling the other night, realizing that perhaps he was only so great at his job because he took out the criminals he could handle alone. It was a very low blow to his ego to even consider creating a team. That was like admitting he needed help.

Cartman had gotten along quite fine without the assistance of his parents, or anyone else for that matter. Even when child services showed up repeatedly on his front door, he took care of them
with ease. Although, the more persistent ones did need reassurance in other means, he was fearless nonetheless.

Still though, this wasn't a game. He was grappling his life through slippery fingers each time he put on that costume. He could quite easily underestimate an enemy and end up dead without anyone there to back him up. The idea struck him hard, his legacy would certainly be forgotten if he didn't have anyone behind him. It was enough to break past his self love and think rationally.

So, though it had been a staggering project, Cartman got up far before the sun the next morning, dressed himself casually, then proceeded off to the most Godforsaken facility ever known. School.

His earlier school schedule danced just beyond the corner of his memory. He couldn't recall enough and begrudgingly needed to go to the office to ask for a copy. Of course, they couldn't just make it simple. No, they needed to sit him down and explain in grave voices that he had missed far too much school to ever hope for passing this year. He would need to, if he could, make up his credits Senior year.

Cartman had flat out told them all to bite him before walking behind the desk and snatching up the copy of his schedule from the printer. Now he maneuvered towards his classroom with his brown eyes glued to his paper. Every once in awhile, he'd look up to note building numbers and give withering looks to the students in too much of a hurry to watch where the fuck they were going.

Someone in particular bumped harshly into his shoulder, Cartman felt his anger jump ten feet as he whirled around to face his bypasser. Surprisingly enough, they were already on the case. "Watch where you're fucking going lardass!" The boy barked, stepping into his personal space threateningly. "Although, I'll try to be more understanding. Considering the fact that you're huge and take up more space than necessary!"

Cartman was thoroughly shocked with the disrespect. And not because it was coming from a young adolescent, but due to the fact that it was directed at him. "Excuse me!? Who the hell do you think you're talking to!?" Cartman took the challenge and sized up his newest opponent, a tall boy with the strangest, brightest green eyes he'd ever seen on a human being and a scorn that appeared indented into his features.

He knew this kid, but only barely. Cartman recognized the green ushanka he wore like a weird, protective shrine on his head. That's right, they had kindergarten together, he used to be very kind and many of the kids preferred him. Sharp as a tack too. But this was someone completely different from that boy, puberty could do that to a teenager. What was his name again? George or...Gregory? Benjamin?

"I'm talking to you, dick." The boy had his fists clenched at his sides, displaying his own terrible temper just as Cartman was. Two roaring flames ready to clash if pushed just a little further. "I don't need some dipshit Freshman coming into my school and trying to start crap- "

"Your school!?" Cartman almost chuckled, smiling sharply towards him. "Sorry, I didn't realize you ran things here. Although, it doesn't seem anyone really knows you so much as exist. You must be quite successful to be running a piece of shit school in an even more piece of shit town. But I guess again that something like that would suit someone like you."

It was in that instant that something odd flashed in his eyes. Something... red. It was very swift, and Cartman would've missed it had he not been looking directly towards him. Others would've blamed it upon their imaginations, but Cartman knew much better than that. He made the mistake of stepping closer to peer better into his eyes, but the son of a bitch apparently functioned like a rabid animal. Taking this as a challenge, the kid braced his hands against Cartman's chest and shoved him hard. His muscle flexed impressively even beneath his thick orange jacket, and his tremendous strength was enough to send the heavier boy stumbling back a few paces.

Cartman was made shocked once more, his dark eyes widening with both disbelief and anger. "Don't you fucking touch me you piece of shit!" Stepping close, he shoved him back with everything he had. The boy also went backwards, seemingly surprised that someone had accepted his challenge of violence. They both stared each other down with burning eyes, both bright and dark. Then they ran full on into each other.

§

"This simply will not do!" A lady principal with a thick blonde afro glared pointedly at the two boys before her with large, black glasses. Cartman looked closely at her, wondering what the point of her makeup was. She still wasn't too pretty, but that could've also been due to the fact that he didn't very much care for her tone.

"Kyle," she shifted her gaze towards the other boy sharply. "This is your third offense this week! What am I going to do with you? It's almost like you would like to be suspended. That would be a low blow to those wonderful grades of yours, and it would be very difficult to catch up."

The boy- Kyle- snorted sarcastically, as though he honestly didn't think so. He was sporting a few well put bruises along his jaw and his lip was made bloody on the bottom. Cartman, however, wasn't exactly perfect. He had a nasty black eye that made him look pitiful to his enemies, the swelling was worsening as the time ticked. And then, to add to it all, his nose had been broken (which Cartman shoved back into place as he waited for Principal Victoria to call them in) and his tongue was still bleeding from where he had bitten it.

Victoria raised a fair brow, bemused by Kyle's lack of care in what was apparently a devastating situation. Then, her features relaxed and she said something that most certainly worked up a reaction out of him. "Kyle," she leaned forward and spoke in a thick tone. "Should I contact your mother?"

Kyle's eyes widened into a look that begged immediately for reconsideration. A fear was there so bright, even Cartman needed to wince. "No," Kyle said, grasping his armrests and leaning forward desperately. "No please don't tell her! She's been so busy lately with her job and everything, she can't deal with shit like this right now-"

"Then perhaps," Victoria stated without the slightest hint of pity, "You should know better than to partake in shit like this, wouldn't you say Mister Broflovski?"

Cartman's eyes swung between the two, a brow raising with interest. Kyle was leaning back submissively into his chair, grumbling incoherent profanities under his breath while his fingertips dug into the jeans of his pants and he glared spitefully at his own shoes. Cartman wondered how risky it might be for him to now meet the woman's gaze.

"Eric," Victoria pointed her dagger sharp eyes at him next, Cartman met them head on. "It is my understanding that this is your first day back. In, perhaps, two years now? That's very, extremely bad you realize."

"I guess," Cartman shrugged indefinitely . Though, he found himself wishing she didn't bring that up in front of Kyle. This Principal must've been new, Cartman had been away much longer than two measly years. He hadn't stepped foot in a learning facility in so long, investigations on his whereabouts had been made. But that would be brought to this woman's attention soon enough, he would lack in the detail for now.

"Where would you say you were all this time, Eric?"

"Busy," he answered noncommittally, his dark brown eyes were on Kyle now. It was perhaps foolish of him to observe the boy while he sat right beside him, but curiosity had developed. That brief flash of red in his eyes had been enough to peak Cartman's interest. He wanted to know more, where had it come from? He noted the way Kyle kept himself from sitting completely into the back of his seat. Cartman leaned back further, looking along the area completely concealed by his thick orange jacket. Well, nearly. A simple glance would make you believe it were nothing. However, when really looking closely...

Victoria was talking, but Cartman was far from listening. His attention was on the back of a boy too lost in his own mind to notice. Something stuck out at an odd angle from Kyle's jacket. It was incredibly slight, he should've missed it if not for the close speculation. Deciding he needed more inspection, Cartman reached out and grabbed the odd piece.

Kyle reacted immediately. He seemed to jump ten feet from his chair before his fist connected immediately with his jaw. "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!?" He demanded as the rotund boy rubbed his newly appointed bruise in annoyance. He was unapologetic, especially seeing as he had gotten what he wanted. Something hollow lied beneath his jacket, something wooden...

"Eric Cartman, that's very inappropriate!" Victoria shouted angrily at him. "You keep your hands to yourself, you do not-"

"Cartman?" Kyle asked, huffing almost in disbelief. "You're Eric Cartman? The rich kid who's father died in some kind of an accident? I heard that you were fit and good looking. What happened? Isn't your mother taking good care of you?" His green eyes were still blazing and he was clearly trying to build up his temper again.

It worked. Cartman stood slow and purposeful with his dark eyes narrowed in the up most hatred. He could stand to listen and take a few jabs every now and then. However, the mention of his father? He had little practice with such a thing. No one ever mentioned Eric Senior to him, or even on the streets. There was never much reason to. "You little piece of-"

"Enough!" Victoria, clearly reaching her max in this situation, stood from her chair and looked towards both boys with burning impatience. "You will both do everything within your power to remain away from one another and behave like young gentlemen. I'm giving you both a referral for the violence. If it happens again? I'll suspend you both for three weeks, do I make myself clear?"

Eric Cartman and Kyle Broflovski dared not to look away from one another as they mumbled begrudging agreement. However, the message had not been reached, and this would never be the last they saw of one another.

There's something weird about this boy, Cartman thought as they were finally dismissed and parted ways in the halls. He had a very dark secret, something physically unethical that made him snap at the mere acknowledgement of it. Cartman wondered how worth it it'd be to find out just what that was.

A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews. So far, I'm highly grateful for the praise and it drives me to write more. Thank you again, it means the world.