IS THIS REAL LIFE

Chapter Nineteen

KYLE'S P.O.V

I couldn't sit still. Doctors and nurses ignored me as they passed, rushing into Stan's room. I heard scary things in there, stuff like 'life-supposrt' and 'not breathing', but I refused to entertain the idea that Stan might not survive.

Because this was all my fault.

First off, if I had asked Stan why he was acting weird the night before, and defused the situation before he got really mad, Stan would never have stormed out this morning.

Secondly, Stan was in the middle of the street when I yelled after him.

He stopped and turned as if in slow motion.

Then a car came as if out of nowhere. Stan flew through the air and landed on the road again with a sickening crunch.

It was the driver of the car that called the ambulance. I was dead to the world, practically fainted, as lifeless as Stan was. They basically threw me into the back of the ambulance with him, where I sat and stared at his pale face. His nose was bleeding. I wiped the red liquid from his face with the cuff of my jacket, but I wasn't aware I was doing it.

I wasn't sure where the driver was, but he wasn't around. Stan was in the room, people surging around his seemingly-lifeless body. But his heart was beating. I held onto this fact desperately. It was the only thing keeping me relatively sane.

Squeaking shoes advanced hurriedly down the corridor. Looking up from my feet, tapping impatiently against the floor, I saw Eric striding down the corridor, Kenny hanging limply from his arm.

"Where is he?" Eric asked, and there was real worry in his eyes. I knew that a lot of the time he acted heartless and like he didn't care for any of us very much at all, but occasionally this mask would slip, and his sensitive side would be shown.

I glanced at the door to the right of my chair. Eric collapsed beside me, Kenny beside him. Kenny's eyelids were drooping, and he leaned heavily against Eric's shoulder.

I looked to Eric for explanation.

"He's just found out he's in love, give the guy a break."

I gave sleepy Kenny a questioning look, and he grinned. "Butters..." He giggled.

I frowned dissaprovingly at Eric and he shrugged.

"He wouldn't stop crying. I gave him some happy pills." He cast his eyes over Kenny. "Maybe too many. You and him were in the same boat. But I think Stan getting mashed by a car beats Kenny's Butters-doesn't-trust-me-anymore thing..."

My stomach flipped over, and I began to knaw my nails, looking for the millionth time at the clock over the door across from us.

"Are you here for Mr. Marsh?" A man in a white coat stepped out of Stan's room and addressed us.

"Yeah..." Eric said when both Kenny and I came up speechless.

The doctor's expression was terrifyingly solomn as he invited us into Stan's room.

BUTTER'S P.O.V

It was getting dark, the people around me were getting weirder looking, and I was terrified, but I had finally found my way to the shop where we bought our playset.

I opened the door. The girl behind the counter smiled at me.

"You're in luck." She said in her pretty accent. "We're just about to close up."

I smiled shyly, losing my voice.

"You know what you're looking for?" She asked kindly.

"Y-Y-Yes, ma'am." I nodded vigourously, and headed for the stacks of tiny boxes on the counter.

I knew what I had to do.

KYLE'S P.O.V

I couldn't stop the tears. I was in serious shock. I lay across Stan's body and sobbed hysterically. Even drugged-up Kenny had tears rolling down his cheeks. Fuck, even Eric was howling like a damn baby.

"We'll leave you all alone for a moment." The doctor said in hushed tones, ushering several nurses from the room.

"Oh, Stan." I whispered, running my hands through his exposed black hair. "Oh, Stan, oh, Stan, oh, Stan."

Kenny lurched foreward to join me, patting Stan's shoulder.

"You're gona be okay!" He stated in a stupidly serious way. I laughed, as did Eric.

Eric collapsed into a chair and pulled down his hood, running his hands through his hair. "Fuck...Okay." He murmured.

"They said it'd be a couple of hours. You guys want to wait it out?" He asked, glancing first at me, then Kenny, and finally letting his eyes rest on Stan's pale face.

Kenny and I both nodded vigourously.

"Okay, well, Butters can get in the apartment with the spare key." Eric assured Kenny, patting the seat beside him. Kenny sat, chewing his lip. It seemed the happy pills were wearing off a little.

"He's afraid of the dark." Kenny noted.

"He'll be fine. It's only a few hours." Eric tried to comfort him by wrapping an arm around his shoulders, and Kenny gave in, leaning into Eric's chest. I watched longingly, wishing more than anything that Stan and I could be in a similar embrace, rather than Stan be unconcious and sore, and me so guilty I could die.

But he was going to be okay. Stan was going to be okay.

ERIC'S P.O.V

When Stan woke up, he was so drug addled that he couldn't focus on any of us. We managed to get him discharged. He had a huge cast on his leg, and his arm in a sling. We lied and said we had a car. I was the one who carried him carefully home.

We reached the apartment. I laid Stan in his bed, and he groggily thanked me, writhing and flinching a little before dropping into an immediate deep sleep. Kyle crawled in beside him. He didn't touch him for fear of hurting him somehow, but he laid a single hand flat on Stan's stomach lovingly.

"Night, Kyle." I whispered before shutting the door.

I discovered Kenny, standing and staring at his bedroom door.

"He in there?" I asked.

"He's moving around. He's awake. He's heard us." Kenny breathed back.

"Go get 'em, Tiger." I patted his back, and he paled considerably.

There was nothing more I could do for either couple. I went to my single room feeling a little lonely, and fell into my bed. After my initial wriggling to get comfy, I lay as still and silent as possible, and waited, listening.

The voices in the next room started at 3:04.