A/N: So, I guess this is the chapter, the one that kind of changes things up, moves along relationships, sheds light on actions, etc. At least, I hope it does! Enjoy!
It was late in the evening and Stan laid on his bed, staring up at his ceiling. He had texted Kyle to see what he was up to but received a cryptic reply saying something else about studying. Did Kyle really think just because people knew him to study a lot that he could use that as his excuse literally all the time? He looked at his phone, debating whether or not to text Cartman. Really, he wanted to text Kenny. Stan had asked why he wouldn't get a cell phone and Kenny had replied that he just didn't want one. Stan supposed it was probably for the best, he had a feeling Cartman was likely fielding angry texts and calls about Kenny. They couldn't shield the mysterious teenager from much but at least he wouldn't have to worry about angry texts and calls or social media for that matter. Speaking of which, Stan had disabled his Facebook account as he couldn't deal with some of the comments people were making about his friends. At first it had just been about Kenny. Now they were about both Kenny and Kyle. Comments had always been made about Cartman. Stan had to admit he envied how Cartman was so unbothered by things. Cartman laughed the comments off and made some smartass remarks back to people. Somehow, he wasn't fazed in the least by it at all. Stan would get so angry he had involuntarily thrown his phone more than once. When Stan had vented during a lunch period about it, Cartman had advised him to disable his account for a while. Kenny had been contrite about it much to Stan's exasperation. Craig had said social media sites weren't to be used in the fashion Stan was using them. He was supposed to take a picture of an animal and pretend to be the animal living a human existence. Stan now understood why he kept getting friend requests from various South Park neighborhood cats. Stan sat up in his bed and texted Cartman. Hey are you guys still up?
It took several long minutes before his phone vibrated with Cartman's reply. What are you like 10? It's only 8, we don't have a bedtime.
Stan read the text unsurprised. Of course Cartman's mom wouldn't give him a bedtime. He supposed his bedtime was technically later than most as his parents did allow him to stay up until eleven. He knew Kyle liked to go to bed early at around nine even though his mom would let him stay up later. Sometimes Kyle would be out by eight, already dead to the world. Stan was more nocturnal himself. He sent another text, Can I come over?
There was another long wait, longer than the last time. He knew Cartman was likely discussing this with Kenny. He watched his phone as it would show him that the other person was in the process of responding then it would stop suddenly. It was like Cartman couldn't decide whether or not to reply to his question. Finally, Stan's phone rang and he answered it immediately, expecting it to be Kenny even though it was Cartman's phone.
"Stan, why do you want to come here?" It was Cartman. He didn't sound thrilled, almost annoyed.
Stan was slightly offended at the tone being used with him. "Why can't I want to come over? Maybe we could all play video games or something? I could ask Kyle, too," he offered up, not really sure why. Cartman snorted at this.
"Oh yeah, that'll be the day. The Jew comes over to my place to play videos games on a Tuesday night when there's school the next day. Besides he's probably sleeping already."
Stan frowned, surprised that Cartman would even know Kyle's sleeping habits. He hoped Cartman didn't know so much about him. It was unnerving really.
"Well, we don't have to have four players to play a game," he pointed out. After all, it had been just him, Kyle, and Cartman for awhile with an almost rotating fourth friend throughout the years. Sometimes Butters would join them, sometimes Craig and Tweek, other times Token, a few times Wendy and Heidi had popped in, too.
"You sure you just want to play a video game?" Cartman asked skeptically.
Stan froze, his heart pounding against his chest. He remembered Kyle's words. Cartman knew Kenny lit up around Stan. He remembered this morning with Kenny outside the school building in the nearby wooded area. Shit, this morning, Stan suddenly remembered slamming Cartman into a locker. He cleared his throat. "Uh, I wanted to apologize for this morning."
"Sure," was the response. Clearly, Cartman knew the apology was an afterthought. "Stan. I know you just want to see Kenny. Why don't you just ask to speak to him?"
Stan's whole body was tense again. Why were other people so willing to talk to him about his romantic interests. Oh god, when had he started thinking like that? Was that… was that what Kenny was? His body and mind were doing things again that he was finding harder to control and he knew the answer to the question.
"Stan!" Cartman yelled into the phone. Stan almost dropped his.
"Shit, Cartman, do you need to yell at me?"
"Yeah, after the first three times I said your name, I figured I might bring you back to reality by screaming it. Stan."
"That's my name, don't wear it out," Stan said absently, remembering the old saying.
"Oh, I won't, don't worry. I'll leave that to Kenny."
"Cartman!" Stan exclaimed, heat rushing to his face. He was glad he couldn't be seen.
"Geeze, chill out. You're going to wear out my name and neither of us want that." Cartman paused before continuing, voice laced with humor. "I'm sure I know what name you'd like to wear out," he giggled at his own joke, finding it hilarious.
"Honestly, Cartman, if you don't want to play video games with me on a Tuesday night you can just say so."
"Yeah, definitely because it's Tuesday, man, you know Thursdays are my preferred days of the week to play video games with you. That th is just so much better than tu. I keep hoping you'll come around on Thursday but apparently you can only come around on weekends and Tuesdays."
Stan listened to the other ramble before it finally hit him. "So I'm good to come over?"
Cartman nodded, forgetting Stan couldn't see him. He remembered and answered into the phone, "Yeah, yeah, why not? It's Tuesday after all."
"Is Kenny okay with it?" Stan could just imagine Cartman rolling his eyes.
"He's going to have to be."
"Maybe you should ask him first…"
"It'll be fine, Stan. Either come over or don't. I don't care either way." With that he ended the phone call. Unsure what to do, Stan simply stared at his phone for a few minutes half expecting Cartman to call back. When he didn't, Stan jumped off his bed and went downstairs informing his parents he would be going to Cartman's. His mother wasn't thrilled and pointed out it was already past eight. Stan had been expecting this. He knew he could stay up late but that was only if he were in the house. He assured his mother that he and Cartman had formed a study group and he would be back before ten. Sharon had hesitated before relenting but insisted he could only do this once during the week. Her son was totally thrilled and took off. Stan couldn't believe she had bought it. He pulled his phone out and sent Cartman another text, on my way. A simple, ok, cool was the response.
Stan made his way over to Cartman's house, glancing up at the sky on his way. He picked up his pace, worried he might get rained on, the darkening sky was overcast and he thought he had seen some lightning in the distance. Once he got to Cartman's house, he rang the bell. Cartman opened the door. "Hi, Stan." He glanced up at the sky himself. "Man, I hope you're not planning to walk back later. Looks like rain."
Stan shrugged. "It probably won't last long, you know how the weather is."
"Okay." Cartman opened the door wider and Stan stepped inside. "Kenny's downstairs and my mom is gone for awhile."
"Where's your mom?" Stan said without thinking. The glare from Cartman told him exactly where his mother likely was. "So we're going to the basement for video games?"
"Yeah," Cartman said. They had to go through the kitchen to get to the basement. While in there, they stopped and raided the fridge like it was a summer night and they were planning to stay up late and play until they conked out. Stan kept wishing Kenny would come up and help. He had wanted to come mostly to see Kenny but so far he'd only seen and interacted with Cartman. He grabbed another Mountain Dew and threw it in the bag he and Cartman had been filling up. There was something else in the fridge. He reached for the beer but Cartman slapped his hand away. "Geezus, you alcoholic, no beer tonight, okay?" Stan looked over in surprise, Cartman had never refused him beer before. Sure, he'd called him an alcoholic before and Stan thought he might just be correct in that, but Cartman had always willingly supplied him with beverages.
"Why not?" he asked, confused.
"Because it's Tuesday," Cartman said cryptically.
"Okay," Stan said not sure what Cartman actually meant. He shrugged, he would survive, after all he was just happy to be there.
Cartman opened the door to the basement and they both descended the stairs. Kenny was setting up the game system. Stan's heart pumped a little quicker when he saw his friend. Kenny's hair wasn't greasy, it looked like it had been washed recently. He looked like he was struggling a little and Stan supposed it was because there hadn't been a lot of video game consoles out in the woods to use. He greeted him with a smile while Cartman dropped the drinks and snacks off on the coffee table. He walked over to where Kenny was to see what he was struggling with. Stan plopped down on to a part of the sectional in front of the coffee table before reaching forward to grab the bag of snacks he and Cartman had carried down. He started taking them out and setting them up on the coffee table. Cartman and Kenny finally finished setting up the console and joined Stan on the sectional. Kenny wound up somewhere in between Cartman and Stan, considerably closer to Stan as their outer thighs touched despite there being much more of the sectional to sprawl out on. All three boys stayed relatively close to the coffee table, Cartman only a cushion away from Kenny, shooting surreptitous glances at the other two
The game was on and soon all three of them were running around trying to complete their objectives that usually involved shooting someone else on-screen. They'd hooked up to a server so didn't have to necessarily shoot each other. Not that Cartman didn't take advantage and kill Stan a couple times when he was annoyed and said it was payback for being choked in the morning. Stan couldn't exactly fault Cartman for his anger. He tried to make small talk with Kenny while playing.
"Kenny, have you played a lot since moving in with Cartman?"
"Some," was the reply.
"Not as much as we should," Cartman said grumpily.
"Oh," Stan said. "Well, you're pretty good at this game," he complimented his friend, glancing at him. Kenny smiled and Cartman rolled his eyes. Stan was very much aware that their thighs were pressing against each other and he vaguely wondered if Cartman knew. He was thankful he'd worn baggy jeans. All he needed were more comments from Cartman. About half an hour into the game Cartman suddenly stood up.
"I'm going to skip this round, guys. I think I just heard my mom pull up. I'm going to go see her." Kenny shifted like he was about to get up, too. Stan wondered if it was just an automatic reflex for him to follow Cartman around. Cartman put his hand out signaling for Kenny to stay on the couch. "Kinny, you know it's rude to leave a guest alone. He came here to play video games so play with him. I'll be back down in a little bit."
Stan sipped his soda, more than a little weirded out. Cartman was sure acting strange these days. Kenny returns from wherever he'd been, Stan turned into a space cadet, Kyle sees dead people, and Cartman acts all nice and stuff. Stan wondered what had happened to reality. It was like his life was being directed by someone he didn't know and he kept missing his cues. Kenny waited until Cartman left before speaking. "Eric's acting kind of weird."
"You know only Butters really calls him Eric."
Kenny shrugged. "I do."
"It's just. He's always been Cartman to me."
"You don't have to call him Eric," Kenny pointed out, confused. Stan nodded. Cartman had finally left the room and Stan still found a way to make things about him. Stan thought he must be losing his mind. He wanted so badly to place a hand on Kenny's thigh or squeeze his knee. He could imagine his lips on the blonde's. His thoughts were heading in a very X-rated direction. Speaking of lips, Stan dimly realized Kenny's lips were moving. "Stan?" Kenny looked at the other boy with concern. "Stan? Are you okay?"
Stan shook his head as if he could shake the thoughts out of his mind. "I'm fine. I just," Stan looked at his friend and his heart was racing again. Kenny's hair was clean and the blonde was so much brighter now that it wasn't greasy, almost golden. His blue eyes were even more piercing with the clean hair framing them.
"Just?" Kenny prompted.
Stan figured there was no point in wasting the time Cartman had left to him. Steeling himself and gathering all his courage he reached out and pushed a stray golden lock of hair behind Kenny's ear. Kenny stiffened, unsure what was going on. He didn't protest and didn't break eye contact with Stan. Encouraged, Stan brought his fingers down from Kenny's ear, lightly tracing a line across the cheek then lips, down his neck, collarbone, shoulder, and down to the end of an arm. Once at the end of the arm, he grabbed Kenny's hand and squeezed it. Kenny didn't look away. Stan recognized the hunger in his eyes. Their thighs were still pressed firmly together and Stan decided to use his last bit of courage to close the gap between their mouths. Part of him feared he might be pushed away and off the couch as his lips covered Kenny's. He wasn't pushed away. Kenny kissed back with a hunger and desperation Stan had never tasted before. Stan's eyes closed and he saw fireworks explode in the darkness. He wanted this moment to last forever. Deepening the kiss, Stan squeezed the hand again and brought his other hand up to run through the blonde strands of hair. Kenny's own free hand reached out, still hesitant, but soon Stan had a hand running through and pulling at his own dark locks. Stan's whole body was responding to the kiss in a pleasurable fashion, his skin tingling with anticipation. His whole body went cold when Kenny suddenly pulled away and scooted away from him on the sectional until he was on the cushion Cartman had occupied earlier. Stan was sure he looked foolish as his lips were probably still puckered up in mid kiss. It took a minute for him to realize what had happened. He looked at Kenny expectantly but the other said nothing. Just stared at him. Stan couldn't figure out if the stare was one of horror or sorrow and decided it must be a mixture of both.
Finally Stan found words since Kenny wasn't willing to fill the void with them. "Kenny, we don't have to do anything if you don't want to." Judging from that kiss and the look in his eyes earlier Stan knew that Kenny very much did want to do things. "If I came on too strong, I'm sorry." Kenny didn't say anything in reply right away and Stan realized Kenny's eyes were starting to well up. Oh, god, was he such a bad kisser that Kenny had to fight back tears?
Kenny shifted on the couch and glanced around. "I just- I-" Kenny looked down and started to pull hard at his hair with one hand. "I don't, I don't," he muttered. Stan inched closer to him. He reached up to grab the hand that Kenny was pulling his hair with.
"You'll hurt yourself," Stan softly scolded. He locked eyes with the other. "You don't what?"
Kenny's face contorted with pain. "God, Stan, I don't- I don't deserve this. I don't deserve you." He glanced around wildly. "It's not fair to them." He shot up suddenly, pulling at his hair again and pacing the length of the carpet. "It's not fair to them."
Stan was stunned for a couple minutes before also standing up. He grabbed Kenny to stop his pacing. When his friend looked everywhere but at him, Stan sighed. "Kenny. Look at me." When he didn't respond right away, Stan repeated himself. "I need you to look at me, Kenny." Finally complying, Kenny slowly returned Stan's gaze, concerned dark blue eyes locking with scared and frantic light blue ones. "Who is it not fair to?" The answer hit Stan hard and had his heart sinking as he was finally able to grasp just how traumatized the person before him truly was.
"Karen and Kevin. It's not fair to them. They can't, they can't. It's not fair to them. They can't kiss anyone so I shouldn't be able to either." Stan's heart plunged further down into the depths of his soul as suddenly he realized and understood certain things and wished he didn't.
"Kenny, Kenny," he said softly as he reached his hand up to gently caress the other's cheek. Kenny didn't know what to do and just stared wild eyed at Stan.
"It's not fair, Stan," Kenny said mournfully. "Not to them and not to you."
Stan guided Kenny back to the sectional sofa. He sat down and pulled Kenny down with him so they were sitting side by side as they were earlier. "We won't do anything that's not fair to Kevin, Karen, or to me," Stan assured him. At this Kenny looked like he might really start to let the waterworks fall. "Listen to me, Kenny. You deserve to be happy. If kissing makes you happy, you deserve that. Even if it's not with me." He reached out and took Kenny's hand back in his. "Don't you think your brother and sister would want you to be happy?"
A sob escaped Kenny's throat and he shook his head. "You don't understand, Stan."
"Is this why you don't really eat? You think you don't deserve it because your brother and sister can't eat anymore?" Kenny nodded miserably and Stan could think of nothing else but to pull him close and hug him as fiercely as he could manage. Kenny's head dropped onto Stan's shoulder like it was too heavy for him to hold up any longer. One of Stan's hands went to the nape of Kenny's neck and he began to gently massage it, hoping it offered some comfort for the distress.
"I don't deserve you," Kenny mumbled quietly into his shoulder. "You're too good for me."
Despite everything, Stan laughed at this. "Oh, Kenny, if you only knew. I'm not too good for anyone, trust me. If anything, I'm no good for anyone." Kenny's only response was to shake his head but he didn't lift it off Stan's shoulder. "You don't believe me now, but you just wait." His one handed neck massage turned into a one handed back rub. "It's okay, Kenny, you can rest. I know you're tired." Stan felt all the tension leave Kenny's body at this and he relaxed in Stan's hold.
Cartman returned downstairs to find Stan sitting on the couch with Kenny pulled half way onto him, the blonde's feet dangling off the couch. Kenny had fallen asleep with his head on Stan's shoulder listening to Stan's reassurances that he was safe and it was okay to rest. Stan kept rubbing his back and playing with the blonde hair.
Cartman shook his head. "I half expected to come down here and find you two making out or even screwing but this is much gayer." Stan was impressed that Cartman was whispering. There was another mystery; why did Cartman care so much about Kenny. He was positive if it had been Kyle or Butters there, Cartman would have woken them up cackling about homosexuals. Even if it had been Wendy or Bebe, he knew Cartman would tease them about liking someone with a touch of autism as he'd done to Wendy more than once after his Asperger's diagnosis. Cartman's voice brought him out of his contemplation. "Stan you know it's almost like eleven, right?" Stan shook his head, his eyes going wide. His mom was going to be so pissed. Cartman grinned despite it all. "Don't worry. I called her. It's raining cats and dogs outside and I told her our car wouldn't start. She said she'd come over but I told her you were worried about her crashing in the rain. I told her you were planning to walk in the rain just so she wouldn't drive in it. She bought it and insisted I do everything in my power to keep you at the house." Stan's mouth dropped open, stunned.
"Thanks Cartman," he managed to push through the shock to express his gratitude. Kenny started to stir.
Cartman looked at Stan and pointed upstairs. He mouthed that he was going up to his room. He pointed to one of the Japanese wall dividers in the basement and then put his hands together and pressed them up against his cheek while closing his eyes letting Stan know there was a bed behind the wall divider. Stan nodded, still surprised at how accommodating Cartman was being. Stan continued rubbing Kenny's back and offering up quiet assurances. Soon the other was sound asleep on his shoulder again. Stan stared at the wall opposite him and wondered just what he had gotten himself into.
He didn't move for a good fifteen minutes after Cartman disappeared, not wanting to jostle the other, fearing he might wake him. Kenny did finally wake up and it took him a minute to realize he was still clinging onto Stan. He let go with a mumbled apology. Stan shook his head saying for what he felt like the hundredth time that Kenny had nothing to apologize for. Kenny moved himself back into a sitting position, up and off of Stan. He looked at the vacant spot that Cartman had occupied earlier in the night.
"Where's Eric?"
"He went to bed," Stan replied.
"Oh," he said and was about to say more but kept it to himself. Stan waited to see if he'd rethink it and say what was on his mind. He wanted to push but figured he was at the pushing limit for today. Pushing limit for Tuesday anyway, Stan thought with a wry sense of humor.
"We should get some sleep, too," Stan said, getting up off the couch.
"You're going home?" Kenny asked, cocking his head. The rain was still heavy, pattering heavily against the small box windows that were scattered throughout the basement just below the ceiling on the adjoining wall.
"No, my mom said I could stay since the storm's gotten so bad."
Kenny was relieved and let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. "That's good." Stan felt his heart flutter a little at the concern. Kenny looked around. "Uh, there's a bed in that other room. You can use that," he offered.
Stan frowned. "Where are you going to sleep?"
"I'll sleep in here."
Stan's frown only deepened. He was pretty sure he hadn't dreamt they had kissed or that Kenny had been sleeping on him for the better part of an hour. Now he didn't want to share a bed? It's not like Stan was proposing for them to make out and have sex. He shook his head. "No, if that's your bed, you can sleep on it. I'll sleep in here."
Kenny quickly protested. "No, Stan, it's okay really. It is my bed but I never sleep on it anyway. It'd be good for someone to use it." He belatedly realized he'd said too much.
Stan realized he could guess where this was going. "Where do you normally sleep, Kenny?"
His friend looked down at the floor, shame coloring his cheeks. "The floor," he muttered. Stan glanced towards the dividers that hid the bed and the couch Kenny sat on. He'd rather sleep on the floor than a bed or couch. Stan should have known; the guy had preferred sleeping on a picnic table until recently and that was only at Stan and Cartman's insistence he stop for safety reasons.
"You're not sleeping on the floor," Stan said firmly. "Not tonight."
"I have to," Kenny insisted.
"Why do you think that?" Stan asked, genuinely curious. "Surely, you know your brother and sister wouldn't want you sleeping on the floor, starving…"
Kenny shook his head. "Don't they, though? I mean you've seen the kids at school. I'm sure it's Kevin and Karen's spirits encouraging them. They think I deserve it." His voice dropped to a whisper. "And I do."
Stan shook his head in disbelief. "No, I don't think that's true. But if that's what you think, I can't force you to change your mind. But if they think you don't deserve to sleep in a bed then I definitely don't deserve to." He sat on the floor and laid down looking up at Kenny who peered down at him from his perch on the couch.
"Stan, you don't," the word understand died in his throat as he realized he had no desire to explain himself further. He would rather die his most painful deaths ten times over than spill out any more of the truth. Instead, he finished the sentence with, "you don't have to sleep on the floor. They're my brother and sister, not yours."
Stan shrugged. "So? I'm not going to that bed unless you are, too." Stan rolled so he was on his side and propped his head up with an elbow, keeping his eyes on Kenny. "You know, maybe I'll just sleep on the floor every night at my house, too, if this is what you've been doing."
Kenny didn't hide his dismay. "Stan, I-I…" He looked down at the other, helpless.
Stan wasn't deterred in the least. "I'm happy to sleep down here."
"No, you're the guest," Kenny protested again, trying to use Cartman's words from earlier.
Stan shrugged again. "We can do this all night," was the cheeky reply.
Kenny sighed finally standing up, his feet inches from Stan. "Okay. I'll sleep in the bed. But only tonight," he compromised.
Stan grinned, also standing up. It was just one night but he was learning to appreciate the small victories with Kenny. "Good. It's a shame to waste a perfectly good bed." He said following Kenny to the bed behind the dividers.
"Lianne bought me the bed and set up the room."
Stan took the room in. He was impressed with Cartman's mom. She had bought a very nice and very big bed for Kenny. There was a nightstand on each side of the bed and a small dresser close to the wall divider opposite the head of the bed. There were walls past the wall divider as the basement had separate rooms but no doors, thus the need for wall dividers. It was definitely sparse, like a cute little guest bedroom. Stan guessed Kenny likely didn't want to decorate it as he was sure Cartman's mom would buy him whatever he asked for. "This is nice," he said. He sat on the bed. "And it's a shame not to use this wonderful bed she bought. Is this memory foam?"
Kenny nodded. "Yeah. She was trying to….. What did Eric say? 'Entice' me. When I was sleeping outside."
"She knew you were sleeping outside?"
There was another nod. "Yeah. She didn't want to call children's services, though. She worried they'd put me in a residential facility. So she tried other ways to get me inside the house."
"I'm glad they worked."
Kenny shook his head slightly, amused. "You know they didn't work, Stan."
"Well, I'm glad she bought you this nice bed and these nice end tables. You know she deserves to see you enjoy it."
Kenny averted his eyes away, looking at the floor. "Yeah," he mumbled, "Eric's said something like that before."
Stan waited a moment unsure what to really do now. He was tempted to take his clothes off just to be more comfortable while sleeping but decided against it. He decided against, not sure if it would make Kenny uncomfortable or not. Kenny didn't look like he was planning to do much but sit on the bed. Stan got up and walked around to the other side of the bed. He pulled down the covers and slid underneath. Kenny still didn't make any movements, staring absently at the floor, back to his friend. Stan patted the pillows next to him. "Come on, Ken, lay down."
Kenny turned so his back wasn't to Stan. There was a struggle in his mind, Stan could see it in his eyes. Kenny really thought he was somehow betraying his brother and sister by just sleeping in a comfortable bed. Stan reached out and gently grabbed his arm and tugged lightly at him. "Please? For me?" Surely, Karen and Kevin would be okay with that. Kenny didn't say anything but pushed himself off the bed and stood up. For a brief panic-stricken moment Stan worried all his work had been for naught. That Kenny was just going to walk out of the room and lay on the floor now that Stan had gotten in the bed. The feeling was short lived though, as Kenny pulled back the covers on the other side of the bed and also slid underneath the comforter. Stan's body relaxed again, relieved. Under the covers, his hand found Kenny's and he grabbed it reassuringly. "Thank you."
Kenny nodded still tense and doubtful of his decision. Stan squeezed his hand and Kenny allowed for a small smile.
"This is better than the floor, right?" Stan asked.
"It is," was the agreeable reply.
"Good, good. Go to sleep," Stan encouraged. He was fast fading away, feeling totally emotionally drained by now. Surely Kenny must be exhausted. Stan was asleep within ten minutes while Kenny stared up at the ceiling unsure what to do. He mumbled apologies to his siblings both out loud and in his head and begged them for forgiveness. It took him over an hour to fall asleep after Stan.
A loud, long wail jolted Stan out of his sleep. He awoke disoriented and confused. It took him a couple minutes to get his bearings. He was in Cartman's basement in the extra makeshift room for Kenny, sharing a bed with him. Kenny was the source of the wail. He looked over at the other boy, whose eyes were screwed shut, verbalizing his pain with the wails. Stan felt defeat like no other as he looked down at him. He knew that you normally weren't supposed to surprise people who were sleep talking or walking but he threw caution to the wind and put his hand on Kenny's shoulder. "Kenny?" There was no response and the wails only increased in length and volume. Stan wondered if Cartman would come bursting in demanding to know if Stan was trying to kill his best friend. He didn't and Stan shook Kenny a little but still was met with no response. Finally Stan pulled his friend up into a sitting position, whispering to him reassuringly the whole time. "Kenny, it's Stan. Wake up. I'm here." Over and over. The wails eventually subsided and turned into blubbering and sobs. Stan hugged him tightly, taking to rubbing the other's back again while doing so remembering it had helped a couple times before.
"Karen," Kenny whimpered. "God, there's blood everywhere."
Stan stiffened and his body filled with anguish at this. He hugged his friend closer to him and tears pricked at his eyes as the gravity of the situation was hitting him much harder than it had before. He had known before, but hadn't really grasped it until just now; entering a relationship with Kenny included the ghosts from his past.
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