It Only Hurts When I Laugh
4

So. It was day three of being under Stan's care, while Kyle went to school. He had to admit that not even hell was as uneventful as these last three days. That's what Kenny thought as he sighed for the nth time as he continued to watch Stan clean up his apartment. He had given up conversation with his ex on day one. Stan just wasn't having it, and not even he could carry a one-sided conversation for over seventy two hours. The only indicator he had that Stan was feeling the emptiness in the room today was when he turned on some music a few hours back to drown out the silence.

His only salvation was when Kyle returned. He seemed to have realized that Stan wasn't going to be talking with him any time soon so he'd made a point to practically move in. It wasn't so bad when Kyle was around…but he wasn't around that often.

Well, whatever. If Stan didn't want to talk that was fine with him. He had other things he had to think over anyway. Like his old "friends" back in South Park that must be starting to wonder what happened to him. Or more precisely the drugs he never delivered. And actually, just the mere thought of that situation almost made him shiver. At the very least the pain all over his body suddenly returned as he remembered what they did to him. What they would eventually finish should he ever reappear. Granted, he knew what to expect when he sold the heroin and coke.

Doing drugs was bad enough, dealing; not much better. Purposely selling someone else's stash in an ironic twist of fate to give yourself a better life? Yeah, if he even showed his face again in South Park he'd be dead and he wouldn't want to come back.

The only reason he had been able to get away with a beating and nothing else was he claimed someone had stolen it from him. Once his buddies found out he practically gave everything away…it was better not to think of such things. No, it was better to focus on other more interesting things. Like the fact that Stan's ass was still as firm as he remembered.

Kenny found himself anchoring his head on his hand as he watched Stan bend over scrubbing some spot on the floor.

No matter what he had done in the past, no matter how many drugs, how much illegal activity he partook in, he honestly had loved Stan. No, he still loved him. And not just in the sappy romance way. The guy was one of his closest friends, had been since they were little kids. When they had turned into more…well, he thought he could give everything else up for him. And he truly had…for awhile. There were no more drugs or dealing for the first few months of their dating.

Unfortunately he'd been a bit of an addict for too long and those cravings had started to itch. But even now, knowing he ended up betraying Stan he still gave himself a pat on the back. After all, a frequent user of heroin and other recreational drugs quitting cold turkey (more or less) for three months? Pretty fucking incredible. He ought to have been given a medal for his resistance. It'd been so hard and he had to constantly remind himself that he didn't need illegal drugs because Stan was his drug.

He wasn't entirely sure what exactly had caused him to falter and go crawling back to his main supplier. He thought that once the peak hours of withdrawal were over with he'd be fine. It was supposed to be the first three days that were the hardest right? Not that they weren't…

He often thought that maybe he should have let Stan help him out with that from the start. But he couldn't. He just couldn't let him see what he'd turn into. The chills, the shaking, all the fucking vomiting, the sweating, and what had been the worst…the panicking. Those three days of withdrawal had been pure hell, but he made it through even if it was barely so. He'd done it for the person he loved most and yet…it was that person he had ended up hurting. And he never did say he was sorry either…that was something that had been nagging him for months. It was increasingly worse now due to his being in Stan's presence all of a sudden.

"Are you okay?"

What? Kenny looked up. He didn't realize he was looking down, staring at his good hand. It was shaking. He closed his hand, making a fist before looking up and giving Stan a smile.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine."

Stan didn't look convinced and he stood up slowly from scrubbing the carpet. "Is it the pain? Do you want your pills?"

"No I'm good, really. Just…got caught up in memories."

"Having fun with them?"

Kenny eyed Stan carefully, deciding he was completely unable to dissect that question. But seeing as how this was the first time Stan had spoken more than a couple words to him in days, he saw this as his opening. "I'm sorry," he said quietly and watched as Stan visibly winced. "I never…got to apologize. You left so abruptly and-"

He was stopped when Stan held up a hand, "you don't have to apologize okay? I'm past that," he muttered.

"You might be but I'm not," Kenny said carefully. "I've been meaning to do this for a long time now. To say how goddamn sorry I am for being a complete fuck up. For the drugs, for sneaking around your back with them, for telling you I quit when I didn't…and for that night in the alleyway – and Stan," he rushed seeing Stan was opening his mouth about to retort. "I'm sorry that I ever made you think I chose them over you. If you had just stayed one second longer you would have seen that wasn't true at all. And I know, I know, I shouldn't have even hesitated in my decision then, but…" he sighed. "I'm sorry. I really am."

The silence stretched for so long that Kenny was beginning to get nervous. Stan's face was a blank canvas; being careful not to reveal any sort of emotion over what he was currently feeling. It was so unlike the guy Kenny had grown to love that he was wondering if perhaps it would have been better to keep his mouth shut. At least for awhile longer. But thinking about the past and what he had done had forced his apology out of him. He couldn't stand the thought of living in Stan's apartment, being watched over by Stan when there was such animosity in the air.

Being with him for so long, alone, made him miss what they had. He was missing Stan's easy smile, their lazy kisses, and the way conversation flowed whether it held importance or not.

"Stan-"

"I get it. I heard you. You're sorry. I know."

That wasn't the response he had been hoping for. Kenny figured it wouldn't be well received, but he didn't think he'd get that clipped tone either.

"Anything else you want to get off your chest? Do you want to tell me that if you could rewind time you would? That you wish you could have made better choices? Or," Stan scoffed. "Do you want to tell me you still love me, that you want me back? That I should give an addictanother chance? That we'll be better this time around, things will be better because you're clean now?" The bitterness in Stan's voice was not lost on Kenny. "Come on Kenny, have at it. Don't you have more you want to say?"

Kenny bit the inside of his cheek and turned his eyes back downward. He gently stroked his broken arm as he listened to Stan's voice repeat everything he just said over, and over again in his head.

Was there more he wanted to get off his chest? Yes.

Did he want to rewind time? If only.

Did he wish he had made better choices? Of course.

Did he still love Stan, did he want him back? Did he want another chance? The chance to show Stan how very different he was because he was clean?

Kenny didn't say a word, so Stan continued.

"Of course I forgive you," he spat out. But Kenny didn't believe him. He sounded too hard, too sarcastic. "I forgave you a long time ago. You're not the one I can't forgive, because though I left South Park I still heard of what happened to you."

Shit. Kenny tightened his good arm around his cast not even caring about the pain he caused. He even managed to cut the inside of his cheek.

"About how things got worse, how you were up to your ass on heroin everyday, every night. Walking around drugged up as if you were about to nod off any second. How you were up to five hits a day and stealing from damn near everyone to feed your habit. I heard all about that."

"I…" Kenny mumbled out, but he couldn't think of anything to say to that. Yeah, when Stan left he didn't just fall off the edge, he went plummeting head first. Things got really bad. That was why he didn't remember his last birthday, why he didn't remember a fairly large portion of those days. Everything he did, he did with a shot of heroin running through his bloodstream; fucking up his central nervous system.

"You should be dead," Stan whispered. "You ought to be another 'dead from overdose' headline."

Kenny's grip around his cast increased. He was probably breaking the few pieces of bone that weren't broken now. He could feel the air getting thicker; luckily Kyle chose that exact moment to return. Even so, he paused at the entryway looking back and forth at his two friends.

"Did I…miss something?" he asked as he closed the front door with the back of his foot. He stepped further into the living room, awkwardly balanced a bunch of books in his hands.

"You didn't miss a thing," Stan said hoarsely as he turned his gaze away from Kenny to help Kyle with his pile of books. "This all mine?" As he took the books from Kyle's hands he noticed the redhead had yet to answer him. "Kyle?" He said a bit louder and watched as his best friend slowly turned his eyes from Kenny to rest back on him. "Are these mine?" he repeated, this time quieter.

"Oh…yeah. And, your business management professor wants you to email him tonight. Something about you might not understand the assignment otherwise," Kyle responded.

"Great, thanks for doing this for me Kyle."

"Hey, you let me bum here and use your amenities and eat your food without asking for me to pay for anything. The least I can do is grab your homework for you a few days in a row."

Stan nodded and put his books to the side before walking past Kenny and into his room. When he returned he had his jacket on and was already patting his pockets.

"Wait a minute, now where are you going?! I just got back!" Kyle intervened. "And I'm not going to let you out of here so you can go give yourself lung cancer."

"Fine," Stan pulled out his cigarette pack and shoved it into Kyle's chest. "I'll just buy some more," he said as he slipped through the front entrance.

"Wait! What the-ergh!" Kyle stamped his foot in annoyance before hurling the cigarettes at the closed door. "You didn't tell me where you were going asshole!" He yelled out the door.

"Wendy's!" Said the muffled reply and Kyle let out an exhale of defeat and irritation before turning to Kenny. He was still sitting tensely on the barstool and he was still crushing his cast.

Furrowing his eyebrows together in confusion Kyle walked over and gently forced Kenny to pry his fingers off his broken arm. Kenny looked up suddenly, almost looking surprised to see Kyle.

"Dude," Kyle muttered. "What the hell happened while I was gone?" Kyle paused as he glanced around. "And why is this place so clean?"

KSKSKSKS

Stan didn't buy more cigarettes. Not because he didn't to, but because he left his license behind. And even though the prick behind the counter knewexactly who he was because he'd bought smokes from him before, the guy still refused! So he ended up buying a pack of gum instead and instantly put four sticks in his mouth before leaving the little convenience store.

It was still pretty light outside, not quite dark. Kyle's classes ranged from early in the morning to late at night. Why he was willing to bother with a schedule like that Stan had no idea. But Kyle had said he liked taking the time to study hours before each class. A true nerd in every sense of the word.

In any case it really didn't leave him much time to do his own homework, and he really should turn his ass back around and go home. He needed to email that professor, read chapters, look over online lecture notes.

He needed to have not said that to Kenny.

But, he paused to spit out his gum to the side in aggravation. He hadn't said it to be hurtful…well, not entirely. He'd said it because he honestly couldn't believe that Kenny hadn't died from overdose. One of the hardest things about not being home anymore was he couldn't keep a discreet eye on the guy. But that was part of the reason he left South Park, so he wouldn't be tempted to do just that. Because all those questions he'd asked Kenny, about wishing to make better choices and wondering if he wanted them to get back together?

Those were all questions he'd been asking himself ever since he left Kenny. He had always fantasized over what he would do if Kenny did come back to him. If he had managed to beat the drug. What would he do? While part of him promised to beat the living shit out of him, another part promised to bring him down by yelling and hoping to hurt him in the same way he had been hurt. But that last part of him? That stupid fucking last part…only wanted to hold him again. To tell him how much he still loved him. That part wanted to relive all their most intense moments. The rolling in the bed, the sharp, but loving bites to his body. The caresses, the strokes, the feel of bearing all for Kenny and letting him love him in the hardest and gentlest of ways.

He hated that part of him, because it was the biggest part. Something he rarely admitted to himself.

"You going to stand there looking at our door all night, or are you planning on coming inside?"

Stan jumped at the sound of a familiar female voice and realized he had arrived at Wendy's dorm and that her roommate had opened the door. She was looking at him with a somewhat disgusted looked. He and Wendy's roommate had a complicated relationship.

"Why do you look like someone shoved the wrong toy up your fag ass?" She asked, making a point to look at her nails.

"I'm not in the mood dyke, is Wendy around or what?"

She looked up sharply, glaring at him, "yeah, but what's-his-name is here too."

"Oh," Stan flatly responded. That was probably the only thing they agreed on. Their dislike of Wendy's boyfriend. He glanced down the hallways, trying not to fidget.

"But I can see you're about to start crying so I'll be nice this once and do you a favor."

Stan turned back to look at her, raising his eyebrows in question as he watched her disappear. There were a couple of murmurs in the background and all he really heard was, "Stan's having an episode," which caused him to frown. A few seconds later she came back out with Wendy's boyfriend on her tail. She gave him an annoyed, 'you-owe-me-one' look, while Wendy's boyfriend outright glared at him. Whatever. At least they were gone and he had Wendy to himself for awhile.

She was sitting crossed legged on her bed looking at him with worry lines creasing her forehead. To think he hadn't even started talking yet. But he was quick to fill her in on everything that was said between him and Kenny, and when he came to the part about the overdose headline Wendy sucked in her breath.

"That wasn't just harsh Stan," she began after a thoughtful moment. "That was brutal."

"I know, but I didn't mean it the way it sounded. You gotta know that Wends, I just…" he fell backwards onto her bed feeling her look down at him. "I don't know. He hurt me really bad, but I honestly do forgive him. I mean, that wasn't Kenny making all those choices, that was some other guy. It was the addict talking."

"The person you can't forgive is yourself isn't it?" She wondered lightly and leaned back to rest next to him.

He turned his head toward her and she did the same so that their eyes were only a few inches apart.

"I should've been there for him. I knew, I knew it wasn't him. I should have dragged him kicking and screaming to the cops, to rehab, whatever. I just gave him an ultimatum. One no one in his condition would have made the right choice with. And then when I heard about what happened after I left…how much worse he got…Wendy that's my fault. Because I left him when he needed me the most, because I decided I didn't want to deal with the druggie boyfriend; even though I claimed to love the guy. I'm an asshole, and an even bigger one for what I said this evening." He felt a tear roll down his cheek but he was quick to brush it away. "Fuck," he whispered.

As he felt Wendy brush a comforting hand up and down his arm he took in a deep inhale.

"So you're not perfect, neither is he as he's proved," she began. "And so maybe you're not as strong as you thought you were, but Stan you did what you thought you could at the time. You were only seventeen. Kenny started using when he was what? Fifteen probably? That problem of his was bigger than the both of you."

"Maybe so, but I didn't offer to get someone else to help him either. I didn't tell his parents, and I didn't let anyone else know that I knew for sure what we all suspected."

"His parents wouldn't have done jack shit and you know it!" Wendy snapped. "And it's not like anyone else tried to intervene either. Yeah, none of us had solid proof. We hadn't physically seen him do anything, but there are certain signs and no one reported it. No one cared enough."

"But I cared! I care a lot! And I-" he stopped when he felt Wendy grip his hand.

"Either way you can't do anything about what's already happened. You have to deal with what's in front of you now, so…what do you want to do? I can't say that I'm not surprised you're here telling me this. You've been so hell bent on forgetting all about Kenny, or cursing him into damnation. I'm a little surprised that you still feel so deeply for him."

Stan scoffed lightly as he turned his head to face the ceiling. "I was pissed, and sad that he had hesitated over his precious drugs and me, but just because he had a problem, just because I felt like I was kicked to second place didn't mean I kicked him there too."

"And?"

"And I still love him Wendy, I still love him tons. For all his mistakes and problems, it's been hard for me; you and Kyle know that first hand. But…I can't forgive myself for handling it all like it was just some nail biting bad habit or something. And then for running away to school in Denver, threatening everyone at home not to tell Kenny any of my information so I'd be sure he couldn't find me. Yeah it was hard on me, but it had to be three times, no four times harder on him."

"You're taking too much personal responsibility for this. Even if you can't forgive yourself you don't think Kenny would? Stan it's Kenny for crying out loud! If I remember correctly he'd bend himself backwards and forward to do anything he could for you."

Stan didn't say anything for a minute as he studied the ceiling. He felt as Wendy took a hold of his hand and squeezed it lightly.

"So I'll ask you again, what do you want to do?"

Whether he had intended on answering her or not didn't matter as the shrill sound of his cell phone going off interrupted his thoughts. With a heavy sigh he reached for it from his jacket pocket and eyed the number.

"What's up Kyle?" he asked.

"What the hell did you say to him?!" Kyle's voice yelled through the phone and Stan jumped slightly in surprise at the sharp tone.

"What?" he questioned back confused.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. Kenny! He's just decided it's time for him to be leaving! He's headed for the bus terminal right now!"

"What?!" Stan sat up in alarm. "Why did you let him go?!"

"What was I supposed to do? Chain him down?! He's an adult, he can do whatever the fuck he wants!"

"But his arm…his ribs, he's still hurt Kyle!"

"Yeah I know that, and so does he but he says he'll be fine. He said he wore out the welcome he never had. So spill, what did you say?!"

"I just said…I just said…" Stan trailed off as he ran a hand through his hair. "You said he only just left?"

"Yeah."

"Then I'm going to go pick him up. There shouldn't be any buses leaving for the next hour or so since it's late."

He heard Kyle snort on his end of the line, "are you sure you should go? Maybe it's best if you two never lay eyes on each other. Maybe I should go get him."

"You just told me you were incapable of keeping him at my place, what makes you think you can drag him back?!" Stan's anger was starting to flare, and even though Wendy was resting a calming hand on his arm it did nothing to calm him down.

"This is your fault to begin with! I don't know what you said, but it must have been something awful for him to decide he doesn't want impose on us! The old Kenny wouldn't have given a shit if he imposed on us or not."

Stan bit his lip, finally swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing up. "I know, you're right, but we don't have time to argue about this. I'm going to go pick him up. Can you just be there for when we get back?"

At the sudden change in tone from his best friend Kyle's anger faltered and felt a heavy weight press against him. "Fine. But you'd better catch him, and you'd better stick with him this time around."

"I will," Stan answered solemnly and hung up the phone.

"What's going on?" Wendy asked right off the bat.

"Kenny decided he'd had enough of me and bailed," Stan replied right to the point. He turned to look at her with a small smile. "But he's not going to be getting too far. He should be at the terminal."

"Do you want me to come with you?" she asked, eyeing him carefully.

"No it's okay. I can handle Kenny by myself. Thanks for the chit chat Wends, I'll let you know what happens okay?"

"Sure," she nodded and watched him leave her room. "Good luck Stan," she muttered to him and as he hesitated at the door she knew he heard her.

KSKSKSKS

"And here I thought it'd be more of an elaborate search," Stan said quietly as he approached Kenny's hunched figure.

It took about fifteen minutes to find him. The terminal wasn't that big, and it was really just a block or so from the college campus. Kenny wasn't the only person waiting for a bus, but he was the only one sitting on a bench under a street lamp nursing a cast with absolutely no luggage.

The blonde looked up at the sound of Stan's voice, but he was quick to dart his eyes elsewhere. Stan wasn't sure if he was pissed, annoyed, sad, or if he just didn't care. He stopped when he stood directly in front of him with his arms folded.

"I'm taking you back," he stated. "Kyle's waiting for us."

"Then by all means don't keep him waiting," Kenny answered. "But I'm staying right here until my bus arrives."

"Don't make me drag you back. If I have to fight you, I will and we both know that in your condition you won't win."

"Go ahead," Kenny responded and Stan swore he heard of trace of bitterness in his tone. "You'd just be adding to the ever present bruises anyway."

Deciding the tough act wasn't going to work on his ex, it never really did, Stan let out an exhale and fell into the bench beside Kenny. He could feel the blonde tense at his action and it almost seemed as if Kenny was doing everything he could not to scoot away from him.

"Look, I'm sorry for what I said earlier," Stan said quietly, breaking the ice. "It was uncalled for and-"

"And it was all true," Kenny interrupted, finally looking up and meeting his eyes. "All of it. What happened to me after you left; what I had become. All the questions that are still burning inside me about us…and you know, you're right about the headline thing. I should be dead from overdose. I should be on some random page number in the bottom corner. Just a small article. It'd be nothing special since nothing about my life or actions were unusual. The headline would be something like, 'Another Overdose from Another Poor Kid no one gives a Crap About'. But shorter since I doubt my parents could afford an article with such a long headline. Maybe, 'Poor Kid Dies from Overdose', or 'We Knew the Streets would Clean themselves!' Or-"

"I get it! Stop it!" Stan cut in, almost yelling.

Kenny gave him a look before smirking, but even the smirk fell as fast as it came and he found himself looking down at his hands once more. "What are you doing here?"

"I told you I came to pick you up," was the soft answer.

"I know that, I mean why. What's the point? I can't stay with you forever anyway. I've gotta learn to take care of myself at some point. I'm not so dependent on you now that I'll go tumbling back into my life of addiction if that's what you're thinking."

"That wasn't what I…stay, at least until you're a little more healed up."

Kenny didn't say anything for moment, but he was quick to shake his head.

"Why not?!" Stan demanded.

"Because…because this wasn't how it was going to be anyway. You think my plan was to get beat up? Then to have Cartman of all people find me and actually drive me here so that I'd be stuck living at your place? No! That was all…it was a really weird turn of events. When I sold my "friends'" loot it was with the intention that I could get the hell out of dodge. I hadn't intended to ever see your face again Stan, I didn't even know where you were. So the fact that all his happened…it's just a bump in my plan. I still need to leave. Those guys will be looking for me soon anyway. You'd be surprised how vengeful people can be when you sell their stuff."

"But Kenny-"

"I can't stay in your dorm! And I can't go back home, so I've gotta go someplace else."

"Fine."

"Not to mention I'll – what?"

With both their heads hanging low Kenny peeked over at Stan who was already looking at him.

"I said fine, if you think you need to go then go, but can I at least wait here with you for the bus? Just to make sure you make it on okay?"

Smiling Kenny shook his head, "even if I said to get lost you'd still stay put. You always were stubborn as hell."

"You're one to talk," Stan fired back and for the first time since they'd reentered each other's lives they laughed together.

End of chapter 4
-FG

AN: Man I'm on a role. I might as well update all five or six of my stories! Ahaha, yeah right. Thanks for the continued support so far everyone! (: