Author's Notes : Sorry this took so long. Really really sorry. It was mostly written in February and then I got sidelined with life and work. And then in March I got back into my old TMNT fandom and, well, that was the end of that.

Most of this got rewritten over a couple (dozen) times, the general gist of the original draft is there… :P

Disclaimer : Before you read this I want to say something I should have said when I first started writing this. I absolutely do not condone sex without using a condom even though I don't write about these fictional characters using them. Look at it this way… if one of the boys who raped Kyle in the first chapter had a STD, he gave it to Kyle, which Cartman would have gotten and gave to Wendy. If Wendy got back together with Stan, Stan now has it too. If that STD was a potentially fatal one like, oh say, AIDS, they all have it now (and AIDS is only funny if you don't have it, which Matt and Trey obviously don't). Even if you're a girl taking birth control so he won't give you pregnancy, make him use a condom anyway to prevent other nasties from getting through. nods And I'm sure you hear this from everyone, just had to add my comments.

Whew! Sorry for the cliff hanger on the last part! Enjoy this next bit!

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Chapter 11
Recovering
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Kyle's Point of View

"ERIC THEODORE CARTMAN JUST WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING TO MY SON?"

Cartman jerked away from me. I stared mutely at where my Mom stood on the threshold of Cartman's room, red faced and furious, and at the same time felt Cartman's hold on me tighten. "I 'm keeping him alive bitch!" He snapped at her.

What, with artificial resuscitation? I turned my head back and looked at him. He was glaring at my mother, his jaw set stubbornly.

I couldn't help it. I let out a little snort of laughter and started to giggle.

He turned his head and looked down at me, a confused expression on his face. He couldn't figure out what I found so funny.

My mom certainly didn't think it was very funny. "Come here Kyle." She said, her voice angry. I knew that tone. I didn't want to move. I actually cringed a bit as she stomped into the room. Surprisingly, as soon as she started to move Cartman grabbed my arm and hauled me behind himself, then stood between us.

"Don't touch him." He said threateningly.

Huh? I stared at the back of his head, my giggles gone. He couldn't stop my mom from doing anything…

Mom glowered up at him, and for the first time I realized he had outgrown her in height. Maybe he could stop her from doing something…

"Get out of my way!" She shouted. She looked over his shoulder at me. "Kyle, come here."

I started to walk around Cartman when he put his elbow out slightly to block my way. "He's not a fucking dog bitch," He said irritably. "He's your son. You can't just order him to do whatever you want him to do."

Oh no.

Mom's jaw dropped and she sputtered a bit. Ms. Cartman had begun to wring her hands at the entrance to the room. "Eric honey…" She began.

Cartman merely raised his voice. "He's a fucking human being, not your god damned pet!"

"How DARE you!" Mom stopped being too shocked to say anything and slapped him. Hard. The sound resounded throughout the room. I saw that coming a mile away, but apparently Cartman didn't by the way his head snapped to the side.

He brought his head back around slowly and Mom actually took a step back. He must have been giving her a menacing psycho look or something.

I thought for sure he was going to go crazy and hit her or something or at very least yell at her, but instead his next question was directed at me.

"Kyle." He said very softly and deliberately. "Last night you said you didn't want to go home. You don't have to if you don't want to."

I realized then what he was doing. He was helping me deal with my life like he had promised. If I said I didn't want to go home I had no doubt in my mind that he would chase Mom right out of the house and keep me here until she called the cops on him and they forcibly removed me… I swallowed and shook my head. I should go home.

"I - I'd better go dude." I said in a small voice.

He didn't stop the little stare down he had going with my mom, but he nodded once sharply and moved aside slightly. I stepped by him. When I did he caught hold of my arm briefly and looked me in the eye. "Will you be okay?" He asked in a low voice.

I nodded. "Yeah." I lied.

He eyed me for a second more, then let go of my arm. He went back to glaring at my mom while I quickly grabbed my shoes. Now it was my mom's turn to grab my arm as she proceeded to haul me from the room and down the stairs.

"Mom let me go!" I whined, twisting at the grip she had on my arm.

She glared at me angrily and let me go.

"Mrs. Broflovski," Cartman's voice drifted down the stairs at us as we got to the foyer.

Mom turned around. Cartman stood near the top of the stairs, leaning against the wall casually with his arms folded across his chest. "Kyle would be dead right now if it wasn't for me." He said.

He must have been referring to when he took the gun away the night before.

"You horrible boy!" My mom shouted at him. "My Kyle would be dead right now because of you!"

I didn't want to get in the middle of a fight between Cartman and my Mom. They had a fairly long history of hatred about 100 times worse than Cartman and I. "Mom!" I snapped, pushing open the front door. "Let's go!"

She did so, thank God. Mom turned around and left the house in a huff. I followed her, affording one last glance behind myself to see Cartman still standing there against the wall, a small smirk on his face. He knew he had won that round, he had succeeded at pissing off and intimidating my Mom.

His face grew serious when he saw I was looking back at him. He didn't scowl at me or anything, rather his brow furrowed and he looked a bit worried.

As soon as we were on the side walk, Mom took my arm again and pulled me close. "I've never been so embarrassed in my life." She said to me. "What the hell were you thinking Kyle?"

I shrugged and yanked my arm back as she opened the backdoor of the car. I got in.

Dad was in the car too, he did the driving and didn't say anything beyond an "Are you okay?" at me when I first climbed in the backseat.

"I will be." I replied, lying again.

I tried to ignore my mom as she sat in the front seat and described in intimate detail what exactly she had walked in on, how scandalized she was and how horrible it was to see me with that awful boy again.

"Well, I could have killed him instead." I piped up from the back.

That got mom on an "I thought I raised you better than that" tirade. I went back to looking out the window again, wishing desperately I could tune out her voice.

It was over quicker you would think because I only live about 2 and a half blocks away from the Cartman's house.

I ran inside, intending to escape up into my room when Dad stopped me. "Kyle, we need to have a talk," He called out from behind me.

My grip tightened on the stairway banister. "Do we have to?" I asked a bit plaintively.

Dad stepped into the house and took off his shoes. "Yes." He replied.

"Oh this is absolutely horrible, how could my son do this to me?" Mom was still wailing from behind him.

"Can I just talk to you?" I asked in a low voice, already knowing the answer.

"I can't believe this is happening to my family!" Mom continued over me.

My dad rolled his eyes ever so slightly, which he could get away with since his back was turned to her. "No." He replied.

"Damn." I muttered. "Alright, give me a sec to get my meds." My reasoning for continuing to take the damn things was because I knew that I was addicted to them and going off of them cold turkey would not be good. It also helped me escape the talk for a couple minutes. I walked into the kitchen and grabbed the pills and a glass of water. Mom walked into the room after me dabbing her eyes as she did so. "Have you eaten anything bubbe?" She asked, sniffling.

"Ms. Cartman fed me," I said tersely, downing the drugs. I returned the cup I used to the counter top with a thump and I glowered at her a bit as I walked by her. I went and sat down in the big comfortable chair in the corner of the living room with a large sigh. I drew my legs up to my chest and put my arms around them.

Dad had gone upstairs and Mom was doing something in the kitchen, leaving me alone in the living room for a short bit. Ike chose that moment to poke his head into the room. "Kyle?" He questioned.

I smiled at him. For once I wasn't pissed off at him for anything. "Hey Ike," I said, unraveling to hold out my arms to him. Even though he was like 9 and starting to get uncomfortable with affection he still came over and gave me a hug.

"Dude you should have heard Mom before they left to get you." He whispered once he pulled away. His eyes were wide. He snuck a conspiring look towards the kitchen to make sure Mom wasn't listening in, than looked back at me. "You really scared her. She thought you were dead."

I shrugged, pretending not to care. I turned to look back out the window. That's why I heard rather than saw Dad come into the living room. "Hey Ike, could you give Mom and Dad and your brother some privacy?" He asked the boy.

I glanced back at him. Ike nodded and went upstairs, looking back at me as he did so. I had no doubt that he was going to hang out on the upstairs landing and listen to the entire thing.

Mom came into the room, handkerchief still in hand and sat beside Dad on the couch. Great. I looked out the window again.

Dad spoke first. "Kyle," He began quietly. "Why didn't you tell us about this?" He asked, gesturing to the note.

I considered all the alternatives of just not having this conversation before deciding it just wasn't worth it and that I should make this as quick and as painless as possible. I sighed. "Because you would have stopped me," I muttered.

"Bubbe, we would have gotten you the help you needed!" My mom shrilled.

I just looked at her. "Like I need more help." I said sarcastically.

Mom's face contorted. "How are we supposed to help you Kyle?" She demanded to know, loudly.

"Sheila, hold on a second," Dad tried to calm her. He turned back to me, with the note still in hand. I eyed it.

"Kyle we need to know who you were talking about at the bottom of the note. Were you planning to do something to Eric Cartman?"

I considered again, but decided there wasn't any point in lying. I shrugged. "I was going to kill him." I said.

Mom made horrible gasping noises but Dad just looked pensive. I'm sure his lawyer brain was processing that in the most analytical way possible. "How were you planning to kill him, Kyle?" He asked deliberately.

I shrugged again. "Same way I was planning on killing myself. With a gun." I suppressed a smile at the horrified looks on my parents faces. If they knew I was amused by their reactions I'd get into even more trouble.

Dad recovered first. Mom was still sputtering. "Kyle, where did you get the gun?" He asked gently.

"Does it matter?" I replied, shrugging again. "I couldn't shoot him, I couldn't shoot myself, and then Cartman took the gun away so I couldn't even try anymore."

There was silence. I studied them both. Mom was crying and Dad was trying very hard not to look shocked. He finally cleared his throat and continued. "And what happened after that Kyle? Was he upset?" I guess he wanted to handle the conversation professionally or something, like he would his clients at work.

I stared at him. Why did it matter if Cartman was upset or not? It wasn't like he didn't deserve it…

"I guess…" I replied. "Why?"

Him and my mom exchanged looks. "Bubbe why did you spend the night with him?" She asked, new tears flowing down her cheeks.

"Because I didn't feel like coming home," I returned. "And he offered a place to stay, so I took it."

"So you let that boy do whatever he wanted to you?"

Oh so THAT was what this was all about. I actually laughed out loud, a quick abrasive sound. "Not that it's any concern of yours, we didn't do anything last night except sleep." I said coolly.

"You were kissing him when I got there!" Mom exclaimed.

"I can kiss whoever I want!" I snapped at her.

"But why him?" Mom wailed. "That horrible boy has a Swastika poster on his wall!"

Huh. I knew about that poster, I've seen it time and time again, but the funny thing is is I didn't even notice it last night. I shook my head. "He's always had posters like that Mom." I said matter of factly. This wasn't new or anything.

"You're in love with a boy who wants to kill you and your people!" Mom yelled.

Oh boy. I pinched my nose and shut my eyes tightly. Here we went with the race thing again… how many times had we been over this in the last 5 years? Yes I know Cartman's anti-Semitic, tell me something I don't know!

"Now Sheila…" Dad had started.

Mom ignored him. "He's already shot you!"

I let go of my nose. "That was an accident!" I shouted at her. "He was trying to shoot Stan, who's not Jewish last time I checked!" I couldn't believe I was defending Cartman, but my Mom brought it out in me.

"And that makes it better!" Mom stood up. "Just tell me WHY THAT BOY?"

"Maybe because he's the only person who doesn't treat me like I'm a fucking invalid!" I stood as well.

Dad was tugging on Mom's arm. "Sheila," He began again.

Mom turned on him. "Don't 'Sheila' me Gerald, our son is going to get himself killed!"

"I already tried that," I pointed out.

"Now Kyle…" Dad gave me a sorta disapproving look before turned back to Mom. "If he's involved with Kyle I'm sure he's not going to kill him," He tried logically. "You're over reacting…"

"Over reacting!" Mom shouted. "Kyle nearly died twice because of that boy!"

I had had enough. I threw my arms wide. "I nearly died because of you!" I shouted. "Now I know it's hard for you to understand this, but I'm GAY! That means I like BOYS not GIRLS. And I was SLEEPING with Eric BEFORE he shot me. And you know what sucks about it? I let him because I was too afraid that you two," I gestured at them both. "Would find out that I was gay! Well now you do and UNFORTUNATELY FOR YOU, you don't get to CHOOSE who I decide to FALL IN LOVE WITH!" I paused and drew quick breath through my teeth.
My parents just stared at me in stunned silence as I finished. "I hate you both!" I shouted. "All you ever do is try to control my life but you never ever ask me what I want!" With that I stormed from the room and up the stairs, noticing and not caring that Ike beat a hasty retreat to his room as I did so.

I slammed my door shut behind myself and sighed, shutting my eyes as I slid down it to sit on the floor. My life sucked. And now I was going to be grounded for life. I put my head in my arms.

To make matters worse I could still hear the sound of my mom arguing with my dad in the living room. I groaned softly and got to my feet, trekking over to my bed and flopping down on it. Fuck… I needed to escape. Already. And I had just gotten home…

Unfortunately it was about 5 minutes later when my Dad knocked on the bedroom door. I groaned softly and sat up in bed. "Yeah?" I called out.

"Hey Kyle." Dad spoke through the door. "Your mom and I talked and… well… we want you to know that we love you no matter what, alright son?"

I pulled a face. For a long while I considered not answering him.

Finally when I didn't hear him move away I sighed and forced myself to say something. "Alright." I grumbled, flopping back down on the bed.

"A-and… if you ever need anything, we want to you feel free to talk to us." He continued earnestly. "And we know that you can be around whoever you want to Kyle, we're just concerned for you that's all. But from now on, we'll let you decide who you want to be- uh…" He cleared his throat. "With. Okay?"

I stared at the ceiling. "Fine." I replied shortly. I shut my eyes tightly and rolled onto my side and tried to force my brain to turn off. Once again I wished I was dead… but the feeling soon left, as everything faded into a bit of a dulled misery.

I only came out of my room again at around noon to eat something. Mom appeared to have recovered… the only thing she told me is that they were going to find me a new counselor.

Thank god. I replied that hopefully the new one wouldn't be retarded. A week ago I wouldn't have been able to get away with saying something like that. Now my parents shared significant glances and didn't reply.

I went back to my room and actually tried to study after lunch, determined to make the most of my extended life. At around one in the afternoon my cellphone rang.

It was Kenny. "Hey Kyle." He greeted. "How you doing?"

"I'm okay." I replied gloomily.

"How's home life?" He asked.

"Same as usual." I replied. When he didn't say anything, I continued. "Mom freaked out."

"Ah." Kenny said. "Otherwise things are okay?"

"I guess." I replied.

There was a pause. Then Kenny cleared his throat nervously and the pause lengthened, which told me something was up.

"What's wrong?" I asked, sitting up a little straighter.

"Uh… nothing much Kyle. Just…" He hesitated then let it out all at once. "I told Stan." He said quickly.

I clenched the phone a little tighter. I was hoping to avoid the Stan knowing thing for… oh, ever. "Come on Kenny." I groaned. "It's been less than 12 hours!"

"I know, I know. I'm sorry." Kenny replied, sounding repentant.

I rubbed my forehead with exasperation. "What did you tell-" I started to ask, but was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell downstairs. "Dude! Did he say he was coming over?" I exclaimed.

"Uh, yeah…" Was Kenny's reply. "I told him not to but he kinda took off…"

"Fuck." I swore and shut the phone with a snap. I so did not want to deal with Stan right then…

Sure enough two minutes later and after a brief exchange of conversation with my mom I heard a knock on my bedroom door.

"Kyle?" Stan's worried sounding voice drifted through the door.

I rolled over, grabbed a pillow and put it over my face. "What?" I called out, my voice muffled.

"Can I come in?" He sounded half panicked and I heard him rattle the knob a bit, stopping just short of coming in without my permission.

I sat up slowly, placing the pillow aside. "I guess."

The door wrenched open and in he came, looking frantic. The relief on his face was tangible when he saw me sitting on the bed. I probably appeared fairly normal, despite the rough night.

He came right up to me and sat beside me on the bed. I got the impression he was about to hug me before he stopped himself and just sat there, hands clasped into fists in his lap. "Dude, I'm glad you're okay." He said. He smiled a sad little smile and carefully brushed a lock of black hair out of his eyes. He shook his head. "Kenny told me not to come but I had to make sure you were alive and well. You know?" The sad smile turned strained as his eyes met mine. "Kyle?"

I studied him. "What did Kenny say?" I asked.

Stan's brow furrowed. Now he looked everywhere but at me. "He…" He stopped, then continued in a very quiet voice. "He said you tried to kill yourself."

Of course he did. I shut my eyes briefly.

"And that you tried to kill Cartman as well?" Now he looked back at me. There was a questioning expression on his face.

I drew in a breath and let it out slowly. "Yeah." I said finally.

For the longest moment he sat there and studied me. Then a tiny smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. "Did you succeed?"

I blinked. Then smiled back at him, which was a surprise for me just as much as it was for him. For some reason I found that funny. "No." I replied, the smile breaking into an all out grin. "Almost."

An expression of raw relief crossed his face when he saw me smile. He broke, the tension bleeding from his form as he leaned forwards, grinning back at me. "Damn," He said and I let out a little laugh, drawing him into a hug. He came with ease, wrapping lanky arms around me and holding me tightly.

"You scared me." He whispered into my hair when enough time had passed.

I nodded into his shirt. "I'm sorry," I mumbled. I raised my head a bit and continued. "Dude, we need to talk." I said firmly.

He nodded in agreement. "Whatever you want Kyle." He replied. "I'll try my best to listen alright?" His vivid blue eyes met mine again and I knew that he meant it. It was strange feeling safe enough to talk to Stan for the first time in how many months.

And talk we did, for about three hours straight. I told him everything, how I felt the night before, how I didn't want to go on anymore. I told him how I felt he wasn't a very good friend for not listening to me, how I felt angry about what he did at his parents house. He broke down then, and yet again I got to witness the marvelous sight of Stan crying. He told me he didn't know what to do, that he cared about me and didn't know how to stop me from deconstructing.

I reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. "You don't." I said. "Only I can do that."

For the first time I think I saw understanding in his eyes. "Are you going to do that?" He asked with painful hope.

I was silent for a long time before replying. "I'm going to try." I said honestly.

The last part of the conversation was the part he had the most amount of trouble with. I told him to leave Cartman alone now, because right now I needed to know I could hang around him if I wanted to. For a split second defiant anger flashed in his eyes before he looked away again.

"Stan?" I questioned.

He bit his lip and studied the floor before turning his attention to the wall. He wouldn't look at me. "Kyle…" He said finally in a very quiet voice. "He left you to die."

I didn't expect it, but that caused a small chill to sweep through me. "I know." I replied softly.

He looked up at me, studying my face. "I don't…" He made a face. "I don't understand." He said finally.

I shook my head slowly. "I don't know if I really do either." I said. I gave him a very serious look. "But Stan, he's changed. Look. Last night I pointed a gun at him and tried to shoot him and he let me stay the night at his house and didn't even touch me. He kissed me this morning." I blushed furiously but pressed on. "And I could tell he meant it. He even told my mom off for me, told her I didn't have to go home if I didn't want to. I don't think he's the same person as he was in the fall."

Stan was silent during my entire talk. When I was done he studied my face for a long while before making a face of his own and looking away. "I guess that that's it then." He said finally.

"What is?" I asked.

He got off the bed and managed a small wry smile before growing serious. "I'll try my best to be supportive and shit, but Kyle," He crouched down suddenly so he was eyelevel with me and so I could see the worry and concern in his eyes. "If I see him fuck with you in any way…"

"I know, I know." I interrupted him. I reached out suddenly, taking one of his hands and squeezing it. "But even if you just try to get along…"

Stan nodded slowly. "I'll try." He said, finally, reluctantly. I knew he didn't want to, but the effort was appreciated.

I supposed I just had to wait until Monday to see if he'd be true to his word.

After Stan left I spent the next day and a half bored to death. My parents had reverted back to their regular small talk avoidance kind of thing, especially my Mom. The only way I could tell the last day even happened was by the way they stuck their heads in my room every couple hours or so at night to check to see if I was still there.

Besides that I picked at the food Mom made me and tried my best to study. Like usual the words blurred but it wasn't like I had anything better to do than reread my text over and over again.

Briefly I considered sneaking out for an hour and visiting Cartman, then decided against it. I'd see him at school on Monday anyway. And wasn't that going to be fun. Despite my talk with Stan I was still nervous as hell about how the entire thing would go over. I was also afraid that Cartman would just go back to ignoring me, though that would stop the potential fight between him and Stan…

I watched and waited tensely as Cartman came ambling up to the bus stop that morning.

Stan stood next to me. My former best friend had walked up to the bus stop as usual, said hey, he was glad to see me and smiled. He was not quite as hovering as he used to, standing a half a foot further away than normal. I saw him tense visibly as Cartman approached. Cartman eyed Stan as well.

He stopped a couple feet away from the two of us, his eyes still glued to Stan. "Hey." He said.

"Hello." Stan greeted coolly.

They eyed each other for a couple more seconds. Then Cartman turned his attention to me.

"How you doing Kyle?" Cartman asked.

Now both Stan and Cartman were looking at me.

I pulled a face. "Fine." I said, suddenly feeling defensive and self conscious that they were staring at me.

"Your bitch Mom wasn't too hard to deal with I hope?" Cartman was being civil.

"She was like her usual self. Ranted a lot." I sighed. "I'm used to it."

"Ah." He walked around so that he stood on the other side of me, giving me about as much distance as Stan was.

I shifted from foot to foot. We were silent until the bus approached. Kenny came running up to catch it at the last possible second.

"Hey Kyle, how you doing?" He greeted breathlessly as he climbed onto the bus behind me.

"Fine." I replied, rolling my eyes slightly. This was going to be a trend wasn't it?

Sure enough- "Good to see you." Kenny whacked me on the back good-naturedly.

Once we boarded, Stan sat beside me after a brief question of if it was okay. Of course it was, we had been sitting together for about 10 years.

Surprisingly Cartman went over to where Wendy was sitting and called her ho a couple of times until she let him sit beside her. It didn't even faze me that Cartman managed to get Wendy to move over and share her seat by insulting her. She didn't seem too happy about it either.

The only person who seemed somewhat shocked by the entire exchange was Stan who sat with his mouth hanging open as he stared at the back of their heads. When he saw me looking at him he clamped his jaw shut and slouched down in his seat. "I have no idea what you guys see in him," He grumbled, half to himself.

I shrugged. "He's not that bad." I said. That was a lie, and I knew it. Cartman was still a horrible bastard despite his feelings for me and there was nothing much I could do about it. I shifted my gaze out of the bus and watched the scenery as it whipped by.

Now Stan muttered something about me being unbalanced under his breath, which actually made me smile a bit to myself. For some reason Stan being pissed at me about me being involved with Cartman was considerably more enjoyable then having him be worried about me all the time.

It hit me like a ton of bricks that I actually found something amusing enough to smile about. That was the first time in a couple months that that had happened. I spent the rest of the bus ride to school shocked and happy at this little revelation.

It was hard to believe that my life went from intolerable to actually somewhat good in the space of a couple of days. It was almost like trying to kill Cartman and failing had taken a huge weight off of my shoulders. I found out I couldn't murder someone and I also found out that he cared about me at least somewhat. I was okay with both of those things. Mom had agreed to get me a new counselor, things were looking up! I still felt really tired, but Stan was grumpy at me since the bus that morning, which was a welcome relief, and I really didn't want to die anymore anyway. For one, dying was waaay to much work.

I was a bit curious to find out how Cartman would deal with lunch and was both impressed and a little bit scared when he came over to sit with us. This was a territorial issue and I was afraid that Stan would break his promise to me on Saturday.

Cartman sat across the table from both me and Stan, like there was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary about this.

Stan stared at him with his mouth hanging open. He shut it finally. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" He asked.

Cartman looked up from his sandwich. "Eating?" He replied.

Stan sighed loudly. "Cartman you just can't come back here and sit with us! You didn't even ASK if it was okay!"

Shit. I glared at him out of the corner of my eye.

Cartman raised an eyebrow as he chewed and swallowed the food that was in his mouth. He then turned his attention to me. "Kyle," He asked in a very nice polite voice. "May I please sit at this table an' eat my lunch with you?"

I blinked and cringed a bit, knowing that everyone was looking at me now, not just Stan, but Kenny, Butters and Heidi as well.

It took me a moment to reply because I was fidgeting self consciously. It was a moment too long because Cartman shoved off from the table suddenly. "I'll go." He announced.

"No." I replied. I looked up.

He looked down at me with one eyebrow raised. I felt an odd thrill hit my stomach. Like I was going to be sick. I swallowed. "It's okay Cartman." I said. "You can stay if you want." I shrugged quickly, pretending that this wasn't affecting me at all. "I don't care."

Cartman gave me a cryptic look, then glanced at Stan before relenting. "Only if you want me to Ky-al." He said, sitting down again heavily.

I snuck a glance at Stan to see how he was dealing with this. He looked a little bit hurt and angry but he looked away as soon as he saw me looking at him. "Whatever," He muttered, returning to his food.

I expected more problems, but amazingly there wasn't. Occasionally Cartman would offer me food, which I turned down politely. He got frustrated at that, and told me I needed to eat or I'd die. Then he corrected himself by quickly saying that he didn't care if my Jew ass starved to death, which everyone, including Stan I'm sure, could see was a front.

Stan sulked for the rest of the lunch, though he sulked a little bit less after Cartman told me to eat.

Wendy came trekking over near the end of lunch. She looked us all over. "Oh thank god you guys managed to work out your differences," She said, rolling her eyes.

"Barely." Cartman replied, getting to his feet. "See you later Kyle." He said deliberately, which made Stan grit his teeth. With that he turned and ambled off.

The rest of the day passed without much excitement or anything of the like. I left the lunch room soon after Cartman to leave a very grumpy pissed off Stan talking with his ex. I actually felt a bit sorry for Wendy then. Stan wasn't nice to her during their breakup periods and I don't imagine that they were getting along any better now in the aftermath of her and Cartman sleeping together.

The only surprise I got was in Social Studies class, which I shared with both Stan and Cartman. Cartman decided to sit beside me, which he did by threatening Butters out of his usual spot beside me and switching him places. So now I had Stan on one side and Cartman on the other. It ended up being excellent because they both decided to pretend the other didn't exist, which meant they basically ignored me as well.

We got an assignment that day… a week long research assignment on some social issue that plagued people in our State. I was relieved. If anything I could pull information on social issues out of my ass and be accurate about them too… no studying needed.

At the very end of class when we were getting out of our seats Cartman bumped into me. He didn't do it in a mean way either, I could tell by the pleasant "Sorry about that Kyle," and genuine smile he gave me before leaving the room. I stared at his backside as he left, my throat suddenly dry.

I saw out of the corner of my eye Stan shake his head. At least he kept his comments to himself… he really was trying. Thank god.

At 6 o'clock that night Kenny showed up on my doorstep. I found out then that my parents had planned to go to a dinner function in Denver without telling either me OR Ike.

Apparently Kenny was over to babysit. Which was total bullshit, I could babysit Ike just as easily as Kenny could. He was here to keep a suicide watch on me or something.

My Dad said it was about helping Kenny out because his family didn't have a lot of money.

Kenny wasted no time finding a bag of chips and some sodapop before settling in on the couch in front of the TV. I rolled my eyes. "I'll be in my room." I announced.

"'Kay!" Kenny said through a mouthful of chips.

As soon as I got there I stood against the door for a couple moments, considering.

I decided with a small nod. I went to my window and pulled it open.

I didn't know how I was going to sneak into his house… I had a feeling his mom might try to call my parents if I came through the front door. My situation was resolved for me when I saw the ladder was still along the side of his house, half buried in snow.

For a long moment I stood along the side of his house considering his bedroom window. The light was on yes, but it was only around 6:30, there was no way he'd be in bed yet. I also wasn't here to kill him…

I did a quick look around for the gun but couldn't find it. He probably hid that after Friday night…

Sighing, I picked up the ladder and placed it against the house siding next to his window.

I had begun to climb up when he opened his window. He stared down at me.

"Kyle?" He greeted incredulously as I climbed towards him. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Visiting," I replied. I paused at the top of the ladder, eye level with him now. "May I come in?"

"I guess," He reached out and grasped my arm to help me into the room. "How the hell did you get out past your parents?" He grunted as I struggled through the frame. This was a lot easier when I was doing it alone…

I didn't manage to make it into his room on my own two feet, and instead fell to the floor with him in a tangle of limbs. I was grateful that he had managed to clean his room over the weekend, because that might have been painful. "They're, uh, out right now." I breathed once I got somewhat righted and realized I was lying on top of him. Time seemed to stand still. All I could feel was him through his clothes with the heat bleeding up to warm my leg…

I thought he was going to kiss me until he frowned suddenly and pushed me off of him. "So you're over here to piss off your parents?" He said, getting to his feet swiftly.

"I…" I stared at the wall briefly wondering how the hell I was going to reply to that one. Especially since there was a hint of truth to it. I turned back to him. "You have no idea what it's like to live at my house." I said finally.

He managed a tight smile. "I can imagine." He said.

"I also wanted to see you," I said, staring up at him. He was being sarcastic for some reason that escaped me.

"I'm sure." He replied, trekking over to his desk and frowning at his computer monitor.

What the hell? WHY was he doing this to me? "I'm here, aren't I?" I said, suddenly angry.

He gave me a look out of the corner of his eyes. "Because you're trying to escape!" He snapped. "Not because you actually want to be here!"

My mouth fell open. I closed it again as I got up on shaky legs. "I thought… I thought you said you were going to help me." I said quietly. I felt betrayed and hurt. I turned back towards the window.

He caught my arm and pulled me back before I could go anywhere. I struggled against him briefly before letting myself be held in a tight embrace. "Stop it, Kyle," He muttered into my hair. He pulled away a slight bit to turn my head up towards his. I glared at him angrily for a second before he leaned in to kiss me. I could have fought, but I didn't want to. I opened my mouth with a slight 'ah' sound and let him in. I felt like I was falling. I gripped his arms as tightly as I could and deepened the kiss desperately.

He pulled his head away with a pant and looked down at me. He actually looked sad as he inspected me. I was confused. The kiss had left me horribly aroused… and there was something wrong. He let me go and took a step back.

"What?" I asked, worried myself as I gasped for breath.

He shook his head slowly. To one side… and then back again. "Did I do this to you?" He asked, half to himself.

I shut my mouth and swallowed. "What?" I asked again. "What do you mean?" I had a sinking feeling I knew exactly what he was talking about…

His face contorted. "This Kyle," He replied, yelling suddenly, gesturing with a wide sweeping movement to encompass me, the room, and him as well. "This! What the fuck is wrong with you?" He stepped forwards and gripped my upper arms, shaking me slightly. "You don't just all of a sudden for no reason decide to like the person who has spent the last 5 years trying to kill you. AND fucked you for fun. You hate me Kyle."

I felt an odd chill go through me as his words processed. I pushed him away suddenly and violently, and he let me go. I backed up as far as I could, hit the wall, and pressed up against it for strength. "I never hated you!" I shouted at him. My head started to pound and I felt faint. "You stupid fucking fatass!" Now my vision was tunneling as well. "It was you all along! YOU hated ME remember!" I lost my vision suddenly in a head rush and lost contact with the wall, slumping down to the floor. "I never wanted ANY of this!" I continued, pressing the palms of my hands against my forehead. "Oh my god…" I broke down, though the words continue to spill from my lips. "You left me to die and I forgave you! You shot me and I forgave you! You nearly killed Stan and I FORGAVE YOU!" I turned my head and stared up at him out of tear filled eyes. He was standing in the middle of his room where I left him, arms dangling uselessly at his sides and staring down at me. "Last week- today- I thought…" I choked. "I thought maybe…" I couldn't continue and looked away, feeling absolutely wretched.

He walked forwards and crouched down next to me. A large hand pressed to my cheek briefly, turning my head back to him. "You thought what Kyle?" He asked quietly.

I stared at him for a moment more before scrubbing at my face with the back of my hand. I let out a little sigh and looked away again. There was no point hiding anything from him anyway… "You loved me." I muttered, feeling suddenly and hopelessly stupid.

He laughed at that, a throaty chuckle that welled up from within him. That just helped to make me feel even more stupid despite the fact that his laughter wasn't malicious. When he was done he smiled at me, touching my cheek to get me to look at him again. "I don't love anyone but myself." He said.

I knew that. I stared at him dumbly, wishing, somehow, that he was wrong.

The smile he gave me was kind… far kinder than I had ever seen on his face before. "But I care about you, and I'll work on the loving part. Alright?"

I licked my lips cautiously and swallowed. "Cartman…" I began. I had no end and just trailed off.

A mischievous smile quirked at the corner of his mouth before he grew serious. "It's going to be hard though." He said. "I mean despite being a pansy assed faggot, you're also a stupid Jew. Oh, and a liberal." He made a face. "I don't know how long I'll be able to put up with you before I'll be forced to kill you."

I blinked at him. I knew he was joking by the twinkle in his eye and the way that a smile toyed at the corner of his mouth, but that didn't make his words any less horrible. "CARTMAN!" I shouted at him. I hit him on the chest with a balled fist.

He grinned widely, sitting back on his haunches. At the same time he caught my arm and pulled me back on top of him. "Want to try again?" He smirked up at me.

I punched him in the chest with the other fist, which ended up just making him laugh out loud. "That's not quite what I meant." He grabbed my wrist in one hand, the back of my neck with the other and pulled me down to kiss me soundly.

I resisted for a few seconds before relenting. What the hell, I thought, relaxing against him.

When we pulled away again we were both panting and I'm sure he could feel me though my jeans and his. I don't think he was doing much better than me, I could tell by the throaty groan that growled up from his throat and the way he was breathing.

"Bed?" I suggested. I felt the same odd thrill go through me when he nodded and got to his feet, taking me with him. He crashed us both onto the mattress and climbed on top of me. I let him touch me wherever he wanted, his fingers mapping out my body from on top of my clothes. As soon as a huge hand cupped me though my pants I arched against him, groaning. He raised an eyebrow at that.

"Is it just me or are you really fucking horny?" He asked dryly.

I didn't reply but grinned, gripping his sides as I ground against him deliberately. I knew it was probably bad to think about it, but I wanted him inside of me like in November. It had felt good and that was about all that mattered to me with my rapidly diminishing cognitive abilities.

He went to wrestle my shirt off of me, or would have if I hadn't stopped him suddenly.

"Hurts," I explained breathlessly as I extracted my arm carefully from the sleeve. I still couldn't raise my arm directly above my head without a good deal of pain. As soon as I was done I tossed the shirt carelessly aside and learned against him. He stopped me by gripping me with my good shoulder, pushing me back so that I was arms length away.

"What?" I asked, before I realized what he was looking at so intently.

"Oh." I watched as he inspected the scar on my upper chest, eyebrows drawn together in intense concentration. He reached out and drew his fingers lightly over the area. Then he pulled me forwards again to peek over my shoulder. He let out a little exclamation of surprise.

"It didn't go through?" He asked.

I shook my head. "It wasn't powerful enough." I felt awkward and miserable talking about this. Why couldn't we just continued where we were…

"Huh." He drew back, his eyes meeting mine. I could see concern on his face. "Will you be okay?" He questioned.

I shrugged, schooling a flinch at the minor pain that caused. "I will be," I said. "Eventually."

He smiled a bit at that, only the tiniest of one that flicked at the corner of his mouth before he learned forwards and pressed his lips to mine.

It admittedly didn't take me very long to get warmed up again. He had a month's worth of practice to know how to touch me and where and what way to get me to respond to him. I also wasn't surprised in the least and in fact extremely grateful to see that he kept a supply of lotion in his bedside table.

He even fucking went down on me, which he had never done to me before, even throughout all of November. He was really really good at it too, which I suppose shouldn't have been surprising seeing as he did it a lot when he was young to random people.

The only annoying part was when Kenny phoned to see where I was, then told me he had Butters over and was going to convince him to let Kenny have sex with him. I could have killed him. Kenny that is, not Butters. I had no idea why the fuck Butters was even at my house. Eric got the phone back away from me and swore at Kenny before hanging up.

A half hour later I laid against him, head nestled against his chest as he combed his fingers through my hair. We were both fighting for breath, he was a little more than I. He spoke when he managed to stop panting enough to speak. "What the hell." He said.

What the hell indeed. I sat up so that I could look at him, grinning. "That was AMAZING." I pronounced.

He rolled his eyes slightly and smiled. That smile didn't last long, fading back into nothing. He studied me with a cryptic expression on his face.

"What is it?" I asked, concerned.

He reached up and pushed a lock of hair out of my eyes. "What happens now Kyle?" He asked, completely serious.

I sat back, grin fading. "What do you mean?" I asked. I knew perfectly well what he meant. He meant we just had sex sure, but that didn't make a relationship…

Sure enough, Cartman shook his head. "We can't stand each other at the best of times." He said. "I mean its one thing to have wonderful mind blowing sex, but it's another when we're in class together and hate each other."

I frowned a bit, then decided I wasn't going to let him get to me. "Hate each other and have sex anyway?" I asked hopefully.

He glared at me and blushed at the same time. "You're such a faggot."

I smiled and snuggled back down next to him. "I know," I said serenely.

He rolled his eyes but didn't shove me away. "God and you admit it to. Fag."

I laughed and leaned up again so I could see his face. "I've known I was gay since Elementry, what's your excuse?"

I watched as a wide range of emotions flitted across his face. Finally he turned his head and looked down at me. "I like people who piss me off." He said sincerely.

"Oh thanks," I said. Now it was my turn to roll my eyes.

"You're welcome." Cartman reached out and grabbed me for another kiss.

A half an hour after THAT, we were back to the laying next to each other. I was curled against his side with my eyes closed. I was content. Though that may have just been because of the sex. I also knew that he was right and this couldn't last, that eventually he'd do something to bug me, and I'd do something to bug him and we would start fighting again. But right then? It didn't matter. I would tackle the eventual animosity when it came.

The slightest smile tweaked at the corner of my mouth, remembering what he said. Maybe I liked people who pissed me off too.

I must have dozed off because the next thing I knew I was waking up to the sound of Cartman talking into his phone. He clicked it off with a frown as I looked up at him, blinking sleepily. "Who was that?" I mumbled.

He turned his head and looked down at me. "Kenny says your parents are coming home and you'd better get back." He replied.

I groaned and slung an arm over my face. "Fuck my parents," I said sincerely.

"I did," He replied. "Your mom's good in bed," He added with a smile.

I gave him a disgusted look as I rolled out of bed. "That's not even funny Cartman," I said, shuddering a bit.

"It's not," His smug voice replied from behind me. "But your expression is."

I sighed as I went to get my clothes, wondering a little at how they managed to land all over the place. He got up too, didn't even bother hiding himself.

"Kyle?" He asked.

I finished pulling on my pants and straightened. "Yeah?" I replied.

He reached out to me and I let him touch my face. "I'm glad," He said after a moment, giving me a particularly tender look, unlike anything I had ever really seen before. "I'm glad… you didn't die."

I shut my eyes briefly. When I opened them again, he was still looking at me like that. "Yeah," I replied, swallowing past the lump that had formed in my throat. "Yeah, me too."

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Added Author's Notes 07-31-2010 : This fanfic should now be considered complete. I went back and reread the entire thing and decided that I am happy with this ending. I will now leave the task of deciding what happens next in the hands of you, the reader. Thanks for reading!