The first thing Cartman noticed when he woke up was that his face really fucking hurt. Actually, even before he fully regained consciousness, he could feel the pain radiating from underneath his eyelids. It was only when the boy dared to open his eyes that he understood the gravity of his injuries. The fourth grader's right eye slowly emerged from its bruised fleshy mound while the other one wouldn't budge. Aw Goddammit, my eye's swollen shut. This is worse than when that bitch, Wendy, kicked my ass. Heh, "killer titties,"...worth it. The brunette's mouth began to form something resembling a smile before quickly stopping to cease the stinging from his split, tender lips. As his vision became less hazy, the second thing he noticed after waking up was that he was no longer in the parking lot surrounded by pissed off sixth graders. Eric turned his head to the left side and saw a window decorated with green drapes behind a chest of toys.
"What…" he hoarsely exclaimed before breaking into a coughing fit.
"Oh good, you're awake," spoke a familiar voice. Cartman switched his glance from the left to the right side of his room, his gaze landing on the redhead teen standing in his doorway.
"How-How did I-"
"How did you get home? Who do you think? Hell, I almost bust my ass trying to carry you up the stairs. I almost tripped over your stupid cat," Scott grumbled, the latter sentiment sparking an interest in Cartman.
"Is Mr. Kitty okay!"
"Yeah? Why wouldn't it be?" The memory of what took place at the mall, the sixth graders surrounding a terrified, crying Mr. Kitty, preceded by them beating him unconscious, made the fourth grader grow more and more irate.
"It's cause those stupid assholes kidnapped Mr. Kitty! If I hadn't showed up, they were going to tortue her to get back at me," Cartman angrily ranted before being interrupted by a coughing fit. Scott walked over to the ten year old and helped him sit up. While the fit lasted less than a minute, the pain from his bruised ribs made a few slips slip out, something that didn't go unnoticed by the ninth grader.
"Jesus, drink some water already and take a tissue," Scott gruffly offered to the child, his stern expression softening a bit when the boy merely accepted them. The teen watched him sip from the glass until deciding to get up and head to the doorway.
"Where-where are you going?"
"Downstairs. A bunch of kids dressed in costumes have been sitting in the living room for twenty minutes waiting for you to wake up. I told them to come back tomorrow, but they insisted on staying for whatever reason," Scott flippantly remarked as he exited the room. When the fourth grader heard the door close behind the teen, he cautiously touched his face to further inspect his injuries only to realize that he wasn't wearing his mask.
"Huh, I guess it made sense that he took my mask off," Cartman thought aloud, tracing his fingers against his swollen eyes, lips, and bandaids? Now even more curious, he pulled down his bed sheets and saw that he was no longer wearing his blood stained costume or shoes, but his shark pajamas.
"Hmph, I don't know how I should feel about-"
*knock* *knock*"
"Hey dude, can we come in," spoke a muffled voice resembling Stan's.
"Sure, I guess," he replied, hastily pulling the covers back up to his neck. The boy's door swung open to a stream of nervously chattering fourth graders dressed as superheroes, minus Professor Chaos.
"Golly Eric, are you alright?"
"AUGH- what happened?!"
"Calm down babe"
"Dude, what did you do to those sixth graders?! When we got to the mall they were all bloodied and passed out. I think I've died way less painful deaths than those douchebags."
"Chil-chil-chill out fellas. That gin-gin-ginger told us not to get him too excited or he would ki-ki-kick us the fuck out," Jimmy reminded them before breaking out into his signature smile.
As the injured superhero continued to be subjected to a barrage of questions and accusations, he noticed that Kyle was silent. The kite hero had his head lowered at the ground, refusing to look at him.
"Hey! What did I tell you, brats," a loud voice reprimanded the group from the hallway, making the kids cease their chattering momentarily before proceeding with caution. As everyone around was talking up a storm, Kyle couldn't bring himself to look at him. It's my fault he's hurt. He told me he needed our help, but I dismissed him… and now look at him. The fourth grade boy could feel a lump forming in his throat the more he thought about his role in his long time frenemy's injury. Even if I can't stand him, he didn't deserve to be beaten for saving his cat. For doing the right thing for once. Feeling the emotions inside him welling up, the daywalker decided to slip out of the room discreetly into the hallway. Once outside, he let out a sigh that had been building up inside of him.
"What's got you down little red?"
"Ah!" Kyle jerked in surprise at the sight of Scott leaning against the wall next to the boy's bedroom.
"Jesus, calm down. It's just me. Actually, that may not be the most reassuring thing in the world," Scott chuckled while Kyle gradually began to calm down. "What are you doing out here anyway?"
"Huh?"
"You insisted on staying until my brother woke up and now you don't want to see him? I don't know about you, but I can't help but find that a bit odd," Scott casually remarked as the younger boy nervously fidgeted with his hands. After the older boy ceased his laughter, the two stood in awkward silence, the other waiting for someone to make the first move. "You know kid, I've been meaning to ask you something for a while."
"Okay, what?"
"I remember when we first spoke on the phone, you told me you were his friend, but that you hated him. Maybe you could explain that to me?"
"Well…," the fourth grader paused to collect his thoughts, "Most people would consider Cartman my friend since I've known him half of my life and I hang out with him all the time, so I guess it would make sense to call him my friend. On the other hand, he's an annoying, greedy, crude, lazy, manipulative, spoiled, sadistic, sociopathic fat idiot who hates everyone and everything including himself even though he's a total narcissist." The fourth grader crossed his arms over his chest and his expression softened a bit. "And yet, whenever we really need him, whether it be baby cows, a hippie invasion, or Saddam Hussein, he always pulls through in the end. But the one time when he really needed me, I didn't bother to show up until it's too late… is that a good enough explanation for you, Tenorman?" Kyle angrily glanced at the older redhead who merely watched with a blank expression.
"Sure, I guess. I mean, it was a bit long winded, but you got your point across."
"God, Cartman was right. You really are an asshole, which means a lot coming from him," Kyle began to chuckle, heading back off towards the bedroom door.
"Phft, whatever you say kite boy," he amusedly commented while Kyle rolled his eyes before rejoining the others inside Cartman's room.
Buzz
"Huh?" The teen reached into his pant's pocket to check out the notification on his phone. What he saw gave him reason to pause.
Did you really think you could block me and I wouldn't find a way to contact you. No one stabs me in the back and gets away with it. We could have gotten revenge together Scott, but since you backed out of the deal, I'm coming for you too.
The message sent chills down the ninth grader's spine as he both deleted and blocked the phone number. Meanwhile, laughter could be heard from the other room for reasons unknown to the grim faced teenager who knew it may not last for too much longer.
It has been so long since I've written anything. I've been going through a phase where I can't get myself to do anything but stay in bed and watch Youtube videos. I won't make any promises that the next upload will be sooner, but I will try to get it together because the plot has thickened!
