(A/N: Went on for a little while, but yay! We're progressing towards the next chapters! Which is the point, hahaha
Triggers: mention of suicide, drugs, alcoholism. God, it's like a trifecta nobody wants. But, first, fluff!)
Stan stared wide-eyed at Kenny, positive he must have misheard, but Kenny didn't break eye contact even while discomfort reflected in his features. Despite his best efforts, Stan couldn't seem to force any words through his lips, coming up empty every time, quite literally shocked into stunned silence.
After this went on for what Stan assumed to be a few minutes at least, Kenny finally let out a tiny sigh, his features softening and relaxing while the tension around them only mounted. He tore his eyes away from Stan, wildly searching about the room for a second before returning his attention back to his stunned friend. "Did I come on too strong?" he asked, a smile in his voice.
Snapping back to reality, Stan quickly recovered and shook his head; the last thing he wanted was Kenny backpedaling and he feared that's exactly what would happen if he didn't get it together as of five minutes ago. "No, no," there had to be other words, he knew his vocabulary expanded past that one word. "I'm just surprised," he admitted, having finally found the part of his mind that had briefly locked away his ability to speak.
Kenny's eyebrows raised slightly at this and he was starting to feel doubt worm its way through his body; maybe Stan didn't quite return these feelings. As if sensing where Kenny's mind was going, Stan hurriedly went on, "I just thought, for sure, I'd be the one to say that first." Stan smiled easily and watched as Kenny practically sagged with relief from the assurance. Resisting the urge to lean over and kiss those lips, he settled on tightening his grip on Kenny's hand and squeezing, it seemed to be the only thing he knew for sure that wouldn't be an issue.
"I'm sorry," Kenny apologized again, knocking Stan out of the moment and reminding him of other things that needed his attention. Kenny went on, "I'm sure they'll be angry with both of us now." I shouldn't have let it go this far.
Stan was shaking his head again, slower this time. "Don't apologize. I really don't think they are angry, but," Stan was quick to amend when he saw the reproach in Kenny's eyes, "even if they are, I don't care. They can be angry with me, too." He realized he wanted to say it plainly, so there were no doubts in the other's mind, "I love you. And if it makes them angry, I'm okay with that. I'm sorry that they are angry, though."
"It's not your fault," Kenny pointed out as he inched closer to Stan, leaning heavily against the other's shoulder, finding he was suddenly sapped of energy, the emotional drain of the day finally wearing him down, his eyes sliding shut as he soaked in Stan's presence, feeling safe in spite of his fears regarding his siblings.
Stan felt as if he had found the world as Kenny pressed close and lightly snoozed against him. Briefly, he wondered if it were possible to glow because he absolutely thought he must be glowing with the happiness that was bursting forth within, only tampered by the fact that Kenny thought his brother and sister were somehow angry about this. Which made no sense in Stan's mind, but he was sure it had to do with trauma and he didn't possess trauma-informed care training or resources.
He wanted to speak with Kyle about it, but part of him also feared talking to Kyle too much about spirits and the afterlife with whatever the heck Kyle was going through. He couldn't really talk to Cartman about…anything. If he were being honest, he really felt as if he needed to go out of his way to impress Cartman and get his approval and this was weird because just this past summer, he and Cartman were sharing beers and laughing over video games.
He could speak to Wendy but he didn't want to pester her, he already used her for his own personal interventions. Kyle and Wendy were the only people he could think of that might even be familiar with trauma-informed care resources, not that he thought they had experience in applying the resources. His other options were Craig, Tweak, and Butters. He certainly wasn't going to bother with Clyde, who never separated from the screen that was his phone. Mentally, he scratched Tweak off the list, too, because Tweak would probably get second-hand trauma and he didn't want that. Butters likely needed trauma-informed care so he wasn't the best option.
Stan really didn't want to talk to Craig again about his personal life, but he needed help. Maybe he could try to get Kenny to see his own therapist, but he suspected that might be a battle. He definitely needed to speak to his own therapist about all these new developments and he was pretty sure he had an upcoming appointment in a few weeks, anyway, he'd have to double-check with his mother.
His thoughts finally died down and he listened intently to Kenny's even breathing, sending a few of his own curious glances around the room, searching out for the spirits that Kenny was so terrified of. Of course, there was nothing there. Cartman came down at some point, took a look at Stan and Kenny, only meeting Stan's eyes for a few seconds before rolling his eyes and climbing back up the stairs, muttering to himself.
The relationship between Cartman and Kenny still mystified him but he was starting to realize that it really didn't matter. If there was history between them, of course, he was bound to be a little jealous but it didn't change anything. It wouldn't change how he felt the most at peace and the happiest having Kenny up against him like this.
He wanted to run a hand through the blonde hair, but couldn't as one hand was trapped between him and Kenny, still grasping the other's hand. He didn't want to reach over with his other hand, fearing that he might jostle his sleeping friend awake and knowing how precious sleep was to Kenny and how he likely got little of it, he didn't want to risk waking him up, so he sat still as could be, hoping Kenny's slumber remained peaceful. He focused on Kenny's breathing and soon he was fast asleep, too.
Kenny slowly woke up sometime later, extremely grateful for the rest he'd been granted after having a day that had been so grating on his nerves. He felt a weight atop his head and realized Stan must have slumped over slightly and was using his head as a pillow. He couldn't move now and he quietly delighted at how this felt and how at peace his mind was.
At that thought, though, he had to fight from jumping off the couch and making sure his brother and sister's spirits weren't hanging about the room. His breath stuttered in his throat and he used all his willpower to even it back out so he didn't wake Stan. He remained like that for a few more minutes, desperately wondering what Karen and Kevin might think of this, how unhappy it was making them. He was saved from having his thoughts go in too darkly a direction by Cartman noisily making his way down the stairs.
"Hey! Gay lovebirds, wake the fuck up! It's dinner time," he all but bellowed as he climbed down the stairs again, wondering what he ever did to wind up having to spend the great majority of his time with the poor boy and the hippie. He could barely get Token's attention for longer than five seconds and these two were practically living at his house! He was surprised Stan's sister hadn't been sent to fetch him as it had grown dark out.
Stan jerked awake, surprised that he'd fallen asleep, his intention had been to stay up and simply listen to Kenny breathe while he slept. Kenny took the opportunity to stand up and stretch, getting the kinks out. Stan also stood, but didn't stretch, instead watching Kenny and waiting for him to be ready to go upstairs; Cartman had already turned back and disappeared into the kitchen. Kenny offered a timid smile and led the way upstairs. Stan entered the kitchen and frowned as he quickly came to the conclusion that there was nothing ready for dinner. He glanced over at Cartman, who sat lazily in one of the chairs in the adjoining dining area.
"There's no dinner," Stan pointed out, confused.
Cartman's eyebrows shot up and he looked like a cat that had just gobbled down a canary. "Well, no. Of course not. You were downstairs sleeping and you're the one making dinner," Cartman spoke slowly, as though he were talking to one that was much slower than himself. "You certainly didn't expect me to make dinner, did you?"
"Who said I was making you dinner?" Stan snapped and wanted to say more but quickly clamped his mouth shut, remembering that Cartman wasn't just Cartman anymore. Kenny seemed to, for some inexplicable reason, come with Cartman.
As if reading his mind, Cartman went on, "Besides, Kenny wouldn't eat my food anyway, Stanley, so get to work!" Of course, that would work every time with Stan and Cartman knew it as did Stan. If this would get Kenny to keep eating then Stan would make dinner every night even if that meant also cooking for Cartman.
Kenny stood still near Stan and had been watching the exchange with something between interest and amusement and slight annoyance that Stan desperately hoped was aimed at Cartman and not him. He looked over at Stan, who had opened the pantry and was rummaging through it to see what was there. "You don't have to, Stan."
Stan threw him a quick glance over his shoulders. "What did you eat today?" He wished he could say he was surprised when Kenny stiffened and looked to the floor, cheeks heating up in shame, but he had expected this. He glanced over at Cartman and he was positive that this was likely the reason the guy had been so insistent on him making dinner in the first place. Cartman simply looked smug, likely getting everything that he wanted and more.
Stan squared his shoulders and continued to rummage in the pantry, unfazed by either of his companions. He didn't scold Kenny, either, he didn't have the heart to. "I want to cook, anyway," he assured Kenny, who was still looking at the floor in shame and embarrassment. He found what he wanted out of the pantry and placed some of the ingredients on the counter. He moved over to Kenny and placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. "It's okay." He waited until the other met his eyes, gaze sorrowful but Stan simply grinned at him despite it. "Want to help me?" Stan knew he would want to and his guess was affirmed by Kenny's rapid head bobbing in a nod.
Cartman decidedly ignored the flirting taking place in the kitchen and resisted the temptation to make snarky commentary regarding it, if only for Kenny's sake and, of course, the sake of the food. Cartman was certainly hungry. He buried his nose in his phone, answering with exaggerated annoyance when Stan asked him questions about if he thought he'd like something.
It was sometime later that Kenny and Stan joined him at the table, having set out a dish of steaming vegan Swedish meatballs and Cartman eyed them dubiously. The only Swedish meatballs he'd had were usually at IKEA and he was certain those also had actual meat in them. He glanced at the meatballs that were made of white beans, mushrooms, olive oil, onion, and garlic cloves and wondered in bewilderment when his mother had even gotten those ingredients. Was Stan secretly stocking their kitchen? Then they were doused in the gravy that lacked dairy and Cartman tried not to look like he actually enjoyed the food, hoping grabbing a third helping wouldn't give him away. Stan only shook his head and was just thrilled that Kenny ate most of his one serving.
Somehow Stan found himself cleaning dishes in the kitchen despite having just cooked. He was positive this job should be for Cartman as he had contributed absolutely nothing to preparing dinner. He couldn't complain too much, though, as Kenny was right there, drying dishes as Stan handed them over to him. Stan couldn't bite down the silly grin on his face. He could remember not too long ago when Kenny was sleeping outside out on that old picnic bench and now he was inside, helping with dishes. The sight brought joy to him while Kenny just looked amused by the looks Stan shot him.
When they were finished, Kenny accompanied him to the door, both wishing he could stay. Stan knew his mother would not be happy and he wanted to stay on her good side. Stan suspected that Kenny still wasn't ready to engage in kissing or anything else along those lines. Kenny stood at the door with Stan for a moment before closing the gap and enveloping the other in a tight, fierce hug that Stan readily returned. He brought his hands up to play with Kenny's hair for a minute before they both let go and Kenny bid him good night. Kenny watched as Stan disappeared into the night before returning back to the kitchen. Cartman was there, rolled his eyes, and reiterated that Stan would understand.
Ω
The next day, Kyle found Stan at their locker again. He wondered if Stan even realized he was showing up earlier and earlier every day. There was a dreamy smile plastered on Stan's face and, if Kyle were being honest, his friend looked quite silly but it was a happy silly and Kyle was more than glad to see it after the previous day. "Good morning, Stan!" He greeted happily.
"Kyle!" Stan's smile was nothing but teeth and he practically bounced on his heels as he moved out of Kyle's way so he could get into their locker.
"Things went well yesterday, I take it?" Kyle guessed.
"More than well, they were amazing!"
Kyle paused for a second, surprised. He figured they'd gone decently enough especially since he'd never received a distressed text or call from his best friend. But he definitely wasn't expecting to find Stan acting like he'd just won the lottery. "'Amazing', huh? That's great! So, what was so amazing?" Kyle watched with amusement as Stan's face heated up and turned a bright red and he seemed to have suddenly forgotten how to speak. Kyle laughed at the sight. "Okay, must have been pretty amazing if you forget how to speak when you think about it."
Stan beamed at him, that grin still there, almost blindingly bright. "Yes!" He finally managed and then turned redder, wondering why on earth it was so hard to tell this to Kyle. It was just when he remembered what had happened yesterday, he could only think of Kenny telling him he loved him, everything else that happened before and after had seemed to fall away and all he could do was just grin with happiness at the memory.
Kyle laughed again, finding this to be endlessly amusing, he hadn't seen Stan this flustered in quite some time. "Okay, are you going to share?"
"Yes!" Stan repeated, though no words followed and Kyle was staring at him, wide eyed, nodding and unable to stop smiling himself, accompanied with amused laughter. Stan finally found his voice again. "He loves me, he told me." Stan was breathless and still smiling.
Kyle's own smile wavered a little and he tried not to let the worry he felt bubbling within dampen the mood. The memories of Stan crying at the funerals or, even worse, being the one to find Kenny, weren't exactly distant memories in his mind. His smile was forced and strained but he kept it there for Stan's sake.
"That's great, Stan. I'm really happy for you!" Still, there wasn't something right about this. "Is that why he wasn't here yesterday?" And even if it was, why?
Stan's smile drooped a little and Kyle immediately felt guilt well up within him. Stan answered, "Yes, he was worried that his brother and sister were….. angry about it." Stan's smile was gone now and Kyle's instantly vanished as well.
"Oh, that's not good." Kyle frowned, wondering what on earth anyone would be able to do to get Kenny to stop obsessing over his late siblings.
Stan averted his gaze, looking down to the floor now. "Yeah, I'm trying to think of a way to bring up therapy with him. Maybe if he sees a therapist they can help him with this…." Stan trailed off, not having the heart to say delusion even though that's what he thought. Kyle smiled softly, listening to Stan try to work out the best way to help Kenny. He thought again about how Stan thrived on helping others as it was clearly illustrated to him again.
Kyle himself preferred for people to learn how to save themselves which made him nod his head in agreement with Stan; after all, therapists existed to give others tools they needed to better deal with life. Still, there was the other part that Stan didn't know and Kyle was sure that the whole dying and coming back to life thing wouldn't go over well with a therapist and might actually lead to an institution. If Kenny just didn't bring up that part of his life, he should be fine. Besides, therapy might could actually help him with this bizarre sibling obsession unless there was something to the obsession like Wendy suspected. Wendy was still pushing that his family was in R'lyeh, in the company of Cthulhu. She was also still entertaining the idea of visiting the place, which Kyle still believed was absolutely insane and was doing his best to discourage that fantasy.
"Well," Kyle stated slowly, realizing Stan was waiting for him to say something, "it would be a good idea to get him to talk to a professional." There was no doubt that it could help, at least a little. "Let me know if I can help."
"Yeah, I will, I might need help getting him to agree to go." He leaned against the locker, checking the time on his phone, noticing the way the halls were filling with students.
Kyle glanced over at him, remembering the previous day all too well, where they waited for seemingly ever for Cartman and Kenny to not show up. "Are they supposed to be in school today?"
Stan shrugged, suddenly feeling ill-prepared. He had left Cartman's last night, simply assuming everything was fine and that the other two would be in school today. It hadn't even occurred to him to double-check just to make sure. "I thought so." Cartman must have been on the same wavelength as them as suddenly Stan's phone vibrated with a text and, not even a few seconds later, Kyle's phone started to ring. Kyle growled at it, wishing today was one of the days he'd forgotten to charge it. Stan stared at him. "Aren't you going to answer it?"
"I don't want to talk to him!" Kyle protested, trying his best to not hurl the phone down the hallway. "Why isn't he calling you?" It suddenly hit him that maybe Cartman was calling Kyle with some information in regards to Cthulhu but Cartman hadn't exactly been forthcoming the couple times he'd been with Kyle and Wendy for their in-depth research.
"Answer it!" Stan exclaimed and looked ready to swipe the phone from Kyle and answer it himself. The text he'd received was just a simple, Won't be in today. Not exactly informative. He also wanted to know why on earth Cartman was calling Kyle, of all people.
Kyle let loose a long-suffering sigh and hit the "accept" button on his phone. "What?"
There were no niceties on Cartman's end either, not that Kyle expected there to be. Cartman was to the point, which Kyle appreciated, "Jew-boy, get over here."
"No."
"Seriously."
"Seriously no."
"Look, daywalker, just get over here. Kenny needs help and I don't know what to do."
Kyle glared at the phone. Of course Cartman would use Kenny, didn't he always? Still, he wouldn't be swayed that easily. "Look, Cartman, tell me exactly what you need or I'm just going to hang up."
"You're going to hang up a cell phone?" Cartman asked and Kyle frowned at the amused teasing. Saying he was going to "end the phone call" might make more sense with the cell phone but Kyle was not going to admit defeat that easily.
"Yes. I will hang up the phone," Kyle repeated firmly as Stan watched curiously, only hearing one end of the conversation but able to easily guess what was being said on the other side.
"Fine, fine, geeze, no wonder there's so much anti-Semitism in the world, you guys are assholes."
"You're one to talk."
"Kenny doesn't want to go to the hospital." Kyle stiffened at Cartman's words, suddenly concerned. Cartman went on, "He didn't want me to call you, either."
"What do you mean?" Kyle demanded. Stan recognized the concern in his best friend's voice immediately and leaned closer to him, his own concern growing.
"He hasn't died recently."
"Yes. I'm aware." Kyle frowned, not following and suddenly self-conscious of how close Stan was. "Stan is here, too."
"I don't care."
"Okay, stop beating around the bush. What's the problem?" As far as Kyle was concerned, no deaths recently was a good thing, beyond good- it was actually amazing.
"He hasn't died. He's been doing drugs."
"He has? What?" Kyle pulled the phone away from him in some surprise, glancing over at Stan. Did he know? What did Cartman mean, he was doing drugs?
Cartman was silent for a moment before going on, "Yes. What the fuck? Did you think he was going to be a normal person or something? Just la-di-da? Of course, he's doing something to cope."
Kyle felt the urge return to throw his phone. "Okay! Geeze, what does this have to do with me?" The only thing preventing him from hanging up was Stan's eyes boring into him.
"You don't want him to die anymore. He keeps threatening to kill himself."
"What the fuck, Cartman? Can you just get to the fucking point already?" Kyle's patience finally snapped.
"He's having withdrawals and usually he doesn't since he just gets new bodies but thanks to your boyfriend he's been not dying and what the fuck. Are you coming over to help or is his next funeral going to be because I murdered him?"
Kyle's eyes narrowed as he listened. He was pretty sure Cartman was trying to express that Kenny was wanting to die because he was going through withdrawal symptoms that he didn't usually experience due to dying and getting new bodies. However, Stan had been involved recently and Kenny hadn't died. And Cartman was threatening to kill him. Honestly, Cartman had no shame. "Fine. Whatever." Kyle yanked the phone away from his ear and pressed the end button with a dramatic sigh. "What a pain."
Stan was at attention. "What? What was that? What's going on? Is it about Kenny?"
Kyle looked at his best friend, conflicted. He could guess why Cartman hadn't called Stan; he wasn't aware of the repeated deaths and it probably wouldn't go over well with Stan if Kenny was begging to die so he could come back with a new body. He couldn't imagine that Kenny would want to expose Stan to that anyway. At least, he hoped he didn't. "It's okay. Cartman is just being an annoying ass. Anyway, don't worry about it. They just aren't feeling well."
"Cartman sounded like he was feeling well if he could fight with you," Stan pointed out, worried. Maybe he should skip school and go to their house and make sure Kenny was okay.
"Cartman would probably find a way to fight with me if he were comatose." Kyle waited for a second for that to sink in and while Stan initially looked ready to protest, it took only a second for him to nod and mutter in agreement. Kyle continued, "Besides, it'll be fine. He was just asking a few health questions."
"Oh, that's weird but kind of makes sense." Of course, Kyle would be the one most of their friends would go to with questions though Cartman must have swallowed a considerable amount of pride to consult Kyle, which is probably why the phone call had went on for as long as it did.
Kyle nodded. "Yes. Bell's about to ring," he pointed out and the bell went off not even two seconds later. "I'll see you later, go to class, okay?" Stan was hesitant for a minute but nodded again and went to class despite his doubts. Kyle went towards his class but made a turn and left the building, shaking his head at himself. He hated skipping but he wasn't going to leave Kenny with Cartman, especially with him threatening to murder Kenny.
Ω
"Why did you call Kyle?" Kenny whined at Cartman as he tossed around on his bed, Cartman glowering down at him. "He hates me!"
"I wouldn't have to call him if you weren't a drug addict!"
"I'm not!" Kenny protested weakly, though he knew Cartman was right. "It doesn't usually matter." It was true, this was the first time in years that he'd been in one body long enough to actually experience the effects from his poor choices. "I can just die and then-"
"No!" Cartman quickly cut him off, "We're not doing that." He paused when Kenny looked up at him, sweat rolling down his face and trembling slightly. Cartman sighed and shook his head. "We're not doing that."
"What if I want to?" Kenny demanded, more fire in him than Cartman could recall in a long time. As if on cue the doorbell rang and Cartman tried not to look too overjoyed at having company to help him beat sense into Kenny. He rushed upstairs and swung the door open, relieved to see Kyle standing there, looking none too happy.
"I'm here," Kyle needlessly announced, pushing past Cartman and looking around the living area. "Where is he?"
"Downstairs, in his room."
Kyle glanced at him surprised. "In the basement? Don't you have an extra bedroom upstairs?"
Cartman shrugged. "Kenny wouldn't stay up there."
"Whatever." Kyle went to the basement without another word. He found Kenny where Cartman had said he was. Kenny stared up at him, breathing heavily, trying to still his shaking body. Kyle frowned but said nothing as he went out of the room, found a chair, and dragged it into the room, sitting next to the bed. Kenny finally tore his gaze away after a few moments of uncomfortable silence. Kyle simply watched him, waiting for him to say something, but when no words came forth, he finally cracked with a sigh. "Cartman said you were threatening to kill yourself."
Kenny groaned and turned slightly, irritated. "It's not like it would be actual suicide. I'd be back and not have to deal with," he waved one arm weakly, indicating himself, "this."
Kyle's face was grim and he was not pleased. "No, that's not going to happen." Kenny went to protest but Kyle's voice overrode his weaker one, "No, because then it'll just keep happening over and over. You'll still use the drugs for whatever reason and then when you start to have withdrawals, you'll die and it'll just keep repeating. No, if we get you through it now, you'll be okay. Just stop with the drugs."
Desperation shone in Kenny's eyes and his mouth was drawn down in pain. He stared at Kyle, trying to understand why Kyle was even willing to be there. "I can't. I need it."
"For what?"
"To sleep."
Kyle was silent for a long minute, recalling Stan's recount of Kenny's nightmares. "It's not happening," he said firmly, unaffected by the widening of Kenny's eyes or even the silent tears that were starting to leak out. "There are other things that you can take to help with sleep." Like other drugs, but he certainly didn't want to get into that argument and, besides, he was positive this went beyond helping with sleep. As if confirming his suspicions, Kenny muttered something and Kyle leaned closer, unable to hear it. "What was that?"
"It's not the same." Kenny couldn't bear to look at Kyle again, keeping his gaze averted from the stern redhead. Kyle oddly sounded like Sheila in a no-nonsense kind of way and it made Kenny feel almost like he was eight years old again, watching Cartman sing about Kyle's mom at recess only to discover Sheila right behind him, having seen the whole spectacle.
"How so?" Kyle asked, wanting to keep Kenny talking for awhile, maybe a distraction from wanting to do anything else. He caught sight of Cartman slipping into the room, water bottles deposited near his feet before the other teenager vanished from the room, not bothering to speak, only muttering a few curse words about Jews and poor people on his way out. Kenny licked his lips and looked up at the ceiling for a few minutes before meeting Kyle's eyes. Kyle waited another minute before prodding, "Well?"
"Sometimes, I just don't want to remember who I am," he explained candidly, though he would probably change "sometimes" to "always" if he were being brutally honest.
"Why?" Kyle suspected he knew but wanted to keep Kenny talking for a little bit regardless. Another part of him, the part of him he wasn't exactly proud of, also thought this would be a good opportunity to feel Kenny out for information about R'lyeh, see if Kenny knew anything about it. Another part of him, one he wasn't ashamed of, also thought this might be a good opportunity to remind Kenny that Kyle was Stan's best friend and he would put Kenny through something worse than death if he hurt him, though he suspected Kenny already thought he was being put through something worse than death.
Kenny looked at Kyle in shock. "'Why?'" he repeated as if he couldn't believe Kyle had actually just asked him that. "So I don't have to remember everything that's happened. I don't want to keep seeing it over and over again…"
Kyle leaned forward at this glimpse of the past that none of them knew of. "Seeing what over and over again?" And maybe Kyle was just as shameless as Cartman because he felt no shame even when Kenny looked thoroughly offended. Kenny made to protest more but it was at that moment something else flitted across his expression: fear, utter and complete fear. Kyle had never seen an emotion so easily in someone before and it clearly wasn't aimed at Kyle.
"I can't talk about it!" Kenny's voice had a sudden tinge of hysteria to it and Kyle wondered how often Stan had gone through something like this. Kenny looked about the room wildly, "They'll be angry!" Kenny's breath was coming out even quicker than before, having an obvious panic attack, grounding out between gasps, "They'll be upset."
Okay, not pushing in that direction anymore, Kyle thought to himself, waiting for Kenny's panic attack to subside and offering up a bottle of water to him. Kenny shakily accepted the water, gulping down some and coughing, Kyle warning him to drink it slower.
"Does your mind go to another world when you sleep?" Kyle asked and was met with horror on Kenny's part, disbelief that Kyle was still asking questions like this. Kyle sighed. It wasn't as if he'd expected for Kenny to say he'd been dancing in R'lyeh in his dreams, but he had kind of hoped he would. It was silent again for a long stretch of time. Kyle was sure nearly an hour must have passed before Kenny spoke up again.
"I don't see why I can't-" he stopped himself from saying die, though he knew Kyle would get the implication, "just this one time."
Kyle shook his head again. "Because it'll become more than just this one time. You'll keep doing it." He leaned forward again. "You know when you die, we all feel it, we have a funeral." Kenny nodded weakly, not liking where this was going. Kyle continued, "Since you and Stan," and Kyle didn't miss how Kenny tensed up at the name, "started getting close, it's been especially hard on him."
Kyle didn't speak again for a few minutes, letting the idea sink in. "It's really bad. When you've died since you came back, he gets so upset. He cries and cries, he doesn't want to get out of bed. His room is so dark, he won't let the sun in. He won't eat and he refuses to come to school. He just lies in his bed, crying." Kyle's own voice was heavy with emotion as he relayed the memories to Kenny, who was openly weeping now, eyes wide open.
Kyle went on, "And the funerals are a horrid affair. Everyone is so somber and Stan goes some of the time- the times I can drag him out of bed to go- and he cries there, too." Kyle heaved another sigh, feeling heavy under all the memories that would be best forgotten and he envied his past self that used to forget all these atrocities. "I'm always so worried about him, I'm terrified he might do something and-" I feel like I'm falling apart, he thought but didn't want to share so opted to say instead, "I wait and wait, hoping for the best. And then, boom, you're back."
He leaned even closer to Kenny. "Do you really want to put Stan through that anymore?" Please don't put me through that again.
Kenny made no response with the exception of a strangled, choking sound in his throat and his sobs. There was a clearing of a throat near the door and Kyle turned to see Cartman there, eyes sharp and unamused. He waved for Kyle to join him at the door. Once at the door, Cartman backed out until he was out of the room, indicating for Kyle to follow suit. Kyle rolled his eyes, but left the room as well, expecting Cartman to start yelling at him for making Kenny cry.
Instead, Cartman pointed half-heartedly at the door again and Kyle glanced behind him, exasperated with how weird Cartman had become. He started when he spotted Wendy leaning up against the wall beside the door, arms folded across her chest, and one leg kicked up behind her. Kyle immediately felt some regret about his story to Kenny, it was true but he wasn't sure he liked the idea of possibly both Cartman and Wendy having heard it, however, there was nothing he could do about it now.
Kyle looked at Cartman again, some annoyance flashing through him. "Look, if you were going to call Wendy, why bother with me? We both didn't need to miss school," he waved a hand between him and Wendy, making sure Cartman understood who he meant.
Cartman shrugged. "You didn't answer the first two times I called and Wendy said she'd come after her first two classes. I figured the more people the better."
"You don't have anyone else you could call."
"I could call Stan," Cartman pointed out roughly and Kyle sharply shook his head at this.
"No way in hell are we calling Stan over here right now."
"That's what I thought," Cartman smirked, triumphantly. Kyle pulled out his phone to make sure he wasn't being played, but sure enough, he had actually missed two phone calls earlier that morning well before he'd even met up with Stan that morning. Speaking of which, he noted the texts from Stan and shot off a quick, reassuring one and then hurriedly insisted that Stan stay at school. They were going to have to come up with something good to tell him and the sooner the better.
"So, is this basically a suicide watch slash detox?" Wendy asked, having gleaned quite a bit of information from Cartman but wanting to know what Kyle thought of it.
"Pretty much, yeah," Kyle confirmed.
"Do you want me to sit with him for a little bit?" she asked but Kyle shook his head, assuring both Wendy and Cartman that he was good for another hour or two. He did ask Wendy to lookup more about drug detoxing and though they were both loathe to use WebMD, Wendy found herself on that site more than she'd like to admit. Kyle made his way back into the room and sat down on his chair by the bed.
"What's she doing here?" Kenny rasped out after a moment.
Kyle looked over at him in surprise at the tone Kenny used. "Why? Are you concerned?"
Kenny didn't answer right away. It'd been easy to hear kids in the hallways and he knew from Cartman the only reason Stan and Wendy weren't Stan and Wendy was because of Wendy and, while he didn't want to be overly jealous, he couldn't help but feel the tendrils of concern squeeze at him at the sound of her voice. Why would she even be here? "Maybe," he finally answered Kyle.
"She's here to help with your detox and make sure you don't kill yourself. I wouldn't worry; she's moved on and so has Stan, he adores you." Kenny didn't look entirely convinced but nodded anyway. From his perspective, Wendy would clearly be the better option- less damaged, had a family, wasn't haunted, and was liked by the student body at school. Still, Kyle spoke with confidence and knew Stan better than anybody else. He didn't say anything else, either way.
Cartman, Wendy, and Kyle took turns sitting with Kenny, who mostly slept and, after the harrowing tale Kyle had shared, tried to avoid speaking with them. He squirmed about uncomfortably when Wendy was in the room and made sure to pretend he was asleep, terrified of engaging in conversation with her. He wasn't really sure why she was there, Kyle had explained it but wasn't Kyle or Cartman worried that she might find out about him coming back from the grave?
Cartman was fine with her being there so it must be okay, but it still nagged at him. At any rate, he chose to keep his eyes firmly closed shut when she was in the room. Wendy might have been insulted in another situation, but she was just glad she wasn't having to struggle physically with him to restrain him from doing harm to himself.
It was Cartman's turn and Wendy and Kyle were both in the kitchen, trying to scrounge something up for lunch. Wendy found a container in the fridge and brought it out. "These must be those vegan meatballs Cartman said Stan made last night. We can heat them up."
Kyle nodded before grumbling, "I can't believe we're stuck here all day. I wish Kenny could see how much of an effect his deaths have on people. Stan really is a saint."
Wendy was quiet for a long moment as she scooped the veganized meatballs and gravy into a skillet to reheat over the stove. She reflected on the earlier story that both she and Cartman had heard, having almost stumbled into the room during it. There was still something that was bugging her, something that had been niggling in the back of her mind for a little while and she thought now would be a good time to voice it. "Yeah, Stan's amazing," she echoed Kyle's sentiment easily enough, "but, Kyle, don't you think you're being a little unfair to Kenny?"
"What do you mean?" Kyle asked, confused.
"I mean, yeah, Stan's done these amazing things for Kenny but it's not as if Kenny hasn't contributed anything."
"I don't mean this in a bad way and if Stan's happy, that's fine with me, but what has Kenny contributed?"
Wendy set the skillet on the stove, waiting for the food to heat up, stirring occasionally. "He gives Stan a reason to focus and a reason to not drink." A heavenly aroma filled the kitchen as the food continued to heat up and Kyle was excited about the food. He frowned at Wendy's comment.
"It's not like Stan drinks that much, anyway," he waved his hand as if saying the amount Stan drank was barely measurable. Wendy looked at him with just a slight amount of surprise and he detected some pity in the look.
"He's too ashamed of it and doesn't want others to know. He's scared he'll be judged and pushed away like around that time he got his Asperger's diagnosis when we were kids." Kyle felt a blush of shame color his neck and cheeks as he recalled cutting Stan off as a friend when he'd become too depressed and just so shitty but it was just he'd been so shitty. Kyle suspected he'd cut Stan off again if he became that shitty again and maybe that was the issue. Wendy waited for half a minute to make sure he was following her. "He's an alcoholic, Kyle."
Kyle waved his hand again, not convinced. "He's my best friend, I'd know." Though that would be shitty. "That goes totally against all those vegan ethical beliefs anyway."
Wendy just shook her head sadly. "Kyle, it doesn't work like that. Just because you believe something doesn't mean you're suddenly immune to your vices." She knew Kyle knew this but she also knew he had a bit of a blind spot when it came to Stan.
"Sorry, Kahl, but the bitch is right. He drinks all the time with me," Cartman piped up from behind them. Wendy whirled on him.
"Because you're an enabler! You've given him half the alcohol- wait a second!" She shot a desperate look at Kyle. "Why are you here, Cartman? You should be with Kenny."
"It smells so good, I had to come and get some before you two ate it all."
"The whole point is to not leave him alone!" Kyle protested before turning to practically jump down the stairs, memories of more recent funerals flying through his mind. Kenny was fine, he was sleeping but Kyle felt better sitting by the bed. Wendy brought food down to him and he ate in the room, fearful of leaving Kenny alone for a minute. At least he didn't want to until the detox was over. Wendy and Kyle had found that the detox itself wasn't too long, a few days at most and it was Friday, so this was perfect. It would be breaking the habit of dependency on the drug that would be the bigger issue. Getting Kenny past that mental block that he needed the fix for escape would be the hardest hurdle. One that would certainly not be solved in a weekend, but Kyle dearly hoped if they could at least get Kenny through the detox, he would be more willing to not reach for any needles.
He might have told the story of Stan in further efforts to really make Kenny second guess himself any time he thought of reaching for that needle. It was past lunch now and Kyle shot off a quick text to Stan, hoping to quell his friend's curiosity and keep him far away from Cartman's house for the time being.
Ω
Stan stared down at his phone, rereading the text he'd just received from Kyle, unsure if he was comprehending it correctly. It said Kenny was sick but didn't want to go to the doctor. Apparently, he also didn't want Stan to see him so sick, vomit was involved. Stan shook his head, debating if he should just go over there, anyway.
The only reason he was second-guessing going is that it was Kyle who'd sent the text. If Cartman was the one who'd sent it, he'd likely have already been at the house. Stan trusted Kyle and didn't think he would send him a text like this for no good reason, it still felt like he was being excluded, though. He wasn't entirely sure how Kyle had even wound up at Cartman's but suspected it had something to do with the morning phone call.
He worried that Kenny was sick with worry about everything that had been happening but he also knew Kyle would tell him if that were the case. Either way, once school was out, he was planning to call Kyle just for some reassurance about what was going on. As it was, he had other things he wanted to ask about. He'd made it through the whole school day and despite lunch being unusually quiet again, Stan had still been so over the moon happy, Butters had asked if he'd had sex recently, which had made Stan turn the brightest shade of red he'd been in a long time and stutter something. He couldn't quite recall what he'd sputtered out, was just grateful that whatever it was had been drowned out by Clyde's hysterical laughter.
Stan turned so he was facing Craig at the next desk over and tossed a note, asking if he could stick around after class for a few minutes. Craig agreed easily enough. Stan had filled him in during their homeroom class of all the stuff that had taken place between him and Kenny. Class ended sometime later and Craig sat patiently in his chair, listening as Stan went on about trauma and informed-trauma and the proper treatment of victims. Finally, Craig stopped Stan, unsure where all this was heading. "What exactly are you wanting to ask me?"
"Just how should I treat Kenny? Is there a particular way?"
Craig's face didn't change much though his brows might have slightly shifted downward in thought. "All that resource stuff is for professionals, like doctors, therapists, and teachers. Sure, it might be good to know but it's not your job to apply it. Stan, you should just keep treating Kenny how you've been treating him." He waited while Stan contemplated his answer, already looking deep in thought. "Don't overthink it. Just keep doing what you've been doing."