"Kyle..."

"You damn idiot! Why do you have to be so damn stupid!?" Kyle screamed. He wanted to stop. But he couldn't. He couldn't stop yelling.

"I- I don't understand..."

"Of- of course you don't! You never do! That's the problem!" He tugged at his red, curly strands in frustration.

"Kyle please... calm down and tell me what-"

"Don't tell me to calm down! You should fucking know by now! You should know! But you'll never figure it out because- because you're damn ignorant!" Kyle shouted. "And you always always be! No wonder Wendy dumped you so long ago!"

The red-headed boy gently covered his face with his pillow that night. He tried to sleep, but to no avail. No doubt because of that conversation he had with Stan just a few hours ago.

Kyle tried to do everything right. He was affectionate, flirty, and tried to show himself off around his best friend. In Psy. Ed., Kyle would purposely undress himself slowly and always put himself out for Stan. But Stan never seemed to notice.

He glued himself to Stan's hip. Stapled himself to his arm. Sewed their hands together, constantly. It was out of love. That's what someone does when they're in love, right? Yet, Stan never seemed to notice.

And today..., well, Kyle had set up a date. An obvious date. He shooed his parents and Ike out of the house, cooked a big dinner, set up bouquets of roses all around, and candle-lit the dining area. Everything was perfect. He would invite Stan over and finally get him to see his true feelings.

They had been best friends since Pre-K, but they were sophomores in high school now. Kyle had loved his best friend the whole time they knew each other, and he was tired of this waiting around. He wanted Stan, and he wanted him now. He needed Stan.

Things didn't go as planned. Stan's parents dropped him off- (on account of his license being revoked for being caught committing DUI)- on time, and Kyle- slowly- slid off his friends coat and hung it up for him. So far so good. When they got to the kitchen, things started to go downhill. Stan did notice the romantic aura of the set up, but wasn't sure what to make of it.

Kyle tried to explain that he did all this for him. Because that's what someone does for someone who... loves them.

The redhead was scared. He was scared of rejection. It seemed as though hours had passed before Stan finally spoke.

"Yeah... I love you too, Kyle. You're my best friend."

And that's when Kyle had lost it.

He quietly groaned into his pillow and turned over when he noticed his phone light up again on his nightstand. He knew it was Stan, he had been calling Kyle over and over- ever since Kyle threw Stan out of his house after blowing up at him. Into the cold. Alone. At night. With no ride.

Kyle did not answer his phone. He felt horrible about the whole situation. He wanted to apologize, but he feared he would only make things worse somehow.

Kyle knew he wasn't an easy person to deal with. He got upset very easily and couldn't control his yelling- he blamed Cartman for the most part. But it was just the way he was. He hoped Stan knew that by now and didn't take anything he said seriously, even though he was pretty harsh.

He got mad because Stan was oblivious to Kyle's love for him. But even though he was a little clueless, Stan was... innocent. He was amazing, and... everything Kyle wanted. He had his flaws, sure- his severe depression that only sky-rocketed over the years did not go unnoticed by the eldest Broflovski. Kyle could see Stan cry when he thought he wasn't looking. He saw the scars on his wrists when he would sometimes forget to hide it. He got caught committing DUI for God's sake- Kyle knew Stan constantly turned to whiskey to deal with his Asperger Syndrome and cynicism.

Aside from all that, Stan was beautiful in Kyle's eyes. Of course, no matter how hard Kyle tried to tell him that, his body dysphoric disorder prevented him from seeing it. Stan's opinion of himself was pitifully low, and Kyle had always worked to change that- something else Stan always seemed to overlook.

But above all, Stan was the Cinderella of the modern century. He was the kindest kid you could ever hope to meet. His heart was made of sugar, despite his abusive older sister, old drunk of a father and bitch of a mother. He was just... innocent. And he definitely didn't deserve Kyle telling him otherwise.

The guilt was eating away at Kyle's conscience like flies to dead flesh. He began to sob miserably for the second time that day as his phone continued to constantly light up his dark room.

I'm sorry, Stan.

The next day at school wouldn't be easy. Kyle knew that. He would see Stan, and it was going to be awkward as hell. He felt bad, but he still wasn't over himself. He wasn't ready to face Stan again. He would only get mad and start yelling. He didn't need that. Stan didn't need that.

He arrived moments before the bell to avoid confrontation before school. The first thing he noticed was Stan's vivid blue eyes fall on him and watch him take his seat across the room.

Please stop looking at me like that, Stan... Kyle thought to himself.

Stan looked surprised, and happy to see Kyle at the same time. Confused, delighted, and hurt all at the same time. Leave it to Stan to give off that expression with just his eyes alone.

The class was painfully long. He easily avoided Stan the whole time. He only dreaded when he would get caught and he knew Stan would try to talk to him.

Kyle wasn't good at talking, hence the last time they talked. He would have to avoid Stan somehow.

The class dragged on as the teacher rambled some nonsense that Kyle didn't hear- he was too busy swimming in his own sorrowful thoughts. His emerald eyes occasionally glanced over at Stan, who would sometimes meet his eyes, then quickly turn away. Kyle sighed as he put his head down on his desk.

It was going to be a long day.

The last bell of the day finally came around. Kyle immediately scrambled into the bathroom and slammed his fists down on the counter, fogging up the mirror with his intense breaths as he tried to regain his composure.

He just needed to get away from everyone for awhile before he exploded. He looked at himself in the mirror. He was drenched in sweat and his face was red. He took a deep breath as he hung his head. He really needed to calm down, but he couldn't. His hormones were taking over his body and making him delirious. Maybe he should just go home-

-his heart skipped a beat at the creaking sound of the bathroom door opening.

Oh no.

Kyle tried to get into a stall before it was too late, but he stopped dead in his tracks when he heard a small voice behind him.

"Kyle?"

Shit.

Kyle remained silent, keeping his back turned to Stan as he clenched his fists.

Stan gulped quietly as he shut the door behind him. "H-Hey."

Kyle could hear Stan trembling in his voice. But he did not turn around. "What?" He finally answered.

"I'm... I'm glad you're here. I want to talk to you."

"Well, I don't," Kyle said, bringing his palm to his forehead, hissing at the radiating heat emitting from it.

"Please... just listen," Stan pleaded quietly. "Look at me, Kyle."

Kyle sighed deeply and slowly turned around to face his friend. Stan's eyes were a little red, but otherwise he seemed normal. "Fine."

Stan brought his balled fists together and rubbed one with the other nervously. "I... I want you to tell me... what I did."

"What?"

"I want you to tell me what I did," Stan repeated. "I- I know I'm not the b-brightest guy around... I know that... so please, tell me what's wrong. I can't fix it unless you tell me."

Kyle's eyes went to the floor. There he goes, being ignorant again. If only he knew there was nothing really to fix. The problem wasn't that something was broken- it's that he couldn't get it started!

But he still couldn't tell himself to say that.

"It's- it's not something you can just 'fix,' Stan, okay?" Kyle answered, trying to keep calm. "I just... don't want to see you right now. Please... leave me alone, or you're just gonna make it worse for yourself." He tried to warn him. He, of course, was warning Stan about himself.

Stan swallowed at those words. "Kyle, please don't say that. Just tell me. You're right, I don't understand. So help me to understand." In a determined manner, Stan got within physical distant of his friend and gently tilted his head up from the chin with his fingers. "I care about you, Kyle."

Kyle felt the sting of tears in his eyes at Stan's words.

Don't be so damn nice to me if you're not doing it out of love!

Well, you are, but it's not the kind I want!

Stan, you have no idea what you do to me...

Why did I have to fall so in love with you, idiot?!

That's what Kyle wanted to say. Instead, he lost his composure again.

"You ASSHOLE!" He screamed, and before he could stop himself, smacked Stan hard on the cheek. Very hard. The slap was loud enough to stop nearby students in their tracks who were walking past the bathrooms. They all curiously listened into the conversation.

"You just don't get it, do you!? I bend over backwards for you, I try to make you understand, and I get this shit in return!? Well I'm done! You think I can get by with just some nice words? And then you're going to turn around and forget what it all means anyways? Well, fuck you!" He spat angrily, it wasn't until he actually made eye contact with Stan before he stopped yelling...

Big, hurt blue eyes stared back at him in shock. A fiery red hand print stained Stan's flawless skin, still clearly visible underneath Stan's hand, which slowly made its way over the mark; whether it was out of shock or to ease the pain, Kyle wasn't sure- probably both. Tears sparkled in his eyes as some made their way down his red cheek. "Kyle..."

Kyle was shocked. Too shocked. He was socked at his own actions, at the result, and it drove him mad. He had to get out of there. It was too intense for him. Without another word, the redhead rushed out of the bathroom, pushing his way past the crowd they had attracted, out the school doors and all the way home.

The door opened with enough force to stay open, revealing a dejected Stan, staring off into the hallway. The tears and hand-print on his face certainly did not go unnoticed by the fellow high schoolers as they began to laugh.

"Whoa! Marsh is a fag!"

"Rejected!"

"Look, he's crying. What a little pussy!"

"It's that worthless emo trash!"

The voices and laughter echoed out as they rang through his ears, and it all became too much for Stan as well, before he, too, bolted out of the school and ran home.

Kyle slid against his front door to the ground after slamming it shut. He was trembling and crying and everything else he dared let nobody else see.

Mother of God. What had he done?

He had to leave because the situation was too much for him to handle, and the only place he could think to go was home. He couldn't imagine the mess he had left behind in the process, but he didn't care at the time. He just wanted to get out. Now that he was alone, he reflected on what happened and instantly regretted taking off.

He can't imagine how Stan must have felt. Stan. The most sensitive and fucking depressed kid in the whole school. And Kyle had just gone and done that.

Nice going, Broflovski, he rubbed his temples in frustration.

He had taken it too far this time, and he knew he needed to fix it as soon as possible. He had to apologize to Stan before he completely destroyed their friendship. Kyle might have wanted more than just to be friends- but he would rather be friends that have absolutely nothing. And in the end, it would be his fault. Even though he had managed to convince Stan the opposite. He took a deep breath and forced himself out the door to Stan's house.

He rushed over, his legs taking him as fast as they could. The longer it took, the more horrible he felt about the whole situation. He needed to fix it and he needed to fix it now. He finally arrived at his best friend's house and desperately banged on the door.

"Stan? Stan! It's Kyle, open up!" He yelled. When he received no answer, he tried opening the mail slot and shouting into it.

"Mr. and Mrs. Marsh? Please let me in, I need to talk to Stan! Hello!?" He continued pounding on the door, and groaned loudly when it remained quiet.

Of course they're not home, Stan's parents are never home, he thought, annoyed. But what about Stan?

Maybe he was still at school? Kyle turned to run back to the school- but something stopped him. He had a bad, bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something was telling him not to go to the school. He turned around and eyed the door for awhile before returning to it. "Stan!" He tried one more time before forcefully turning at the knob- surprised to find it unlocked as he got the door open.

Of course. Idiot, why didn't I think of that sooner?! Kyle thought to himself before dashing up the stairs to Stan's room. He swung the door open without hesitation.

"Stan, I'm so sor-" he trailed off when his heart stopped at what he saw. Stan was sprawled out on the floor, a half-empty pill bottle hung loosely from his motionless fingers while a few pills were scattered across the floor. It was obvious from his position he had fallen over from passing out- or worse.

"No...," Kyle whispered in disbelief. He quickly ran to his friends side to grab the pill bottle to confirm his suspicion, and gasped in horror when he read the bottle. Sleeping pills.

"No! No!" Kyle was screaming now, as he lifted his friend and rested his head in his lap. "Stan!"

Stan wasn't breathing. His eyes were shut and he gave no sign he was awake. Kyle quickly checked for a pulse- he felt one, but it was frighteningly weak, and getting weaker.

He wanted to scream, cry, punch something, take everything back, apologize to Stan, but he couldn't do any of those things. He quickly did the only thing he could do, and the thing he knew he had to do- he called 911.

The ambulance arrived shortly afterwards and took Stan away in the stretcher. Kyle could only watch in horror as they loaded his best friend into the back of the emergency truck. He barely registered one of the paramedics offering him a ride with them, but he managed to get himself into the ambulance, too, sitting by Stan's side as they rushed to the hospital.

Kyle sat impatiently in the waiting room after the workers had disappeared with Stan into the emergency room.

He shakily sat in the chair, his hands situation in his lap. He was still trying to process the situation.

Stan tried to kill himself.

Stan fucking tried to kill himself.

What if he succeeded? Oh no... no...

Kyle sobbed uncontrollably- again. He was tired of crying, but how could he not? He might have lost the only light in his life. He knew Stan was depressed and had a hard life but he never thought he would do this. Kyle couldn't help but think he had a big role in Stan's decision.

His heart clutched painfully in his chest. He couldn't live with that. And he couldn't live without Stan. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to think...

"Hello," a polite voice greeted him from above. Kyle looked up to see an elderly man, who was obviously a doctor.

"How is he?" The redhead immediately jumped up. "Is he still alive?"

The doctor held up his palm in an attempt to calm him down. "First I will tell you, yes, your friend is alive."

Relief washed over him like a tsunami over a beach house as he collapsed back in his chair, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

Oh God. He's alive. Thank God. Thank God...

"My name is Doctor Johnson, and your friend is in my care. Although I have no information on him. I did retrieve a cell phone from his pocket, which I assume to be his. But can you tell me who he is?"

"H-His name is Stanley Marsh. He's 16. He's my b-best friend. H-His parent's numbers will be in his phone..."

If they even pick up.

Doctor Johnson nodded in understanding, "thank you, that's plenty. We'll have the paramedics contact his family and inform him of the situation. But I'm here to tell you his current state. Stanley, thankfully, just passed out. He passed out before he was able to down enough pills to off himself."

Kyle nodded shakily in understanding. "But...?"

"But he is severely ill due to the large consumption he did manage. And patients who come in under these circumstances are placed in psychiatric care."

Kyle's eyes watered as he shook his head. "You... you can't send Stan to a mental hospital. He's not crazy!"

"I'm sorry, but it's procedure." The doctor calmly explained. "He will be put in restraints to prevent another attempt when he wakes up."

"...when will he wake up?"

"We don't know. It could be hours, or weeks. We're sorry. All we can do it wait."

Doctor Johnson walked back to his room to treat his patient, leaving Kyle behind in shock in the lobby.

Kyle couldn't believe it, but both Sharon and Randy had actually showed up within the next hour or so. They both seemed genuinely concerned for their youngest child and were heart broken when the doctor led them to their comatose son.

Randy stood back in hurt while Sharon ran to her son's side and gripped his restrained hand, crying into the blanket. It was painful for Kyle to watch. He was happy to discover that his parents actually still cared, but it was too painful to see. He patiently waited outside the room while his family was inside. Even Shelley, who had gone out-of-state for college, was bawling over the phone as her parents contacted her and told her the situation. Kyle sat alone in the lobby, listening to their anguished cries, still audible from behind the closed doors.

Everything went wrong. Kyle knew he was to blame for this. Stan's family made him miserable but it was like Kyle had pulled the last straw and finally sent his friend over the edge with what he had done.

He never meant for any of this. He couldn't believe he had hurt his friend so bad. He angrily wiped at the tears that formed in his eyes. "D-Damn it..." He tried to distract himself by deciding to call his mom and letting him know where he was, since he hadn't been home all day without a word. But his heart broke even more when he saw all the notifications from Stan's constant calling after their one-sided argument. Between that night and that morning, Stan had called 57 times. But there was only one voicemail, from the very last call, from right before school that day.

Kyle took a deep breath. He thought about just deleting it, because he probably knew he wouldn't like what he heard- but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He had to listen, and he did.

"Hey Kyle, it's me. I'm sorry for blowing up your phone, I just... yeah... um, anyway, I really want to talk to you... about last night... I want you to know that I-I'm sorry. I h-honestly don't know what I did, but whatever it was, I am so... so, sorry."

Kyle covered his mouth as the tears spilled down his cheeks.

You didn't do anything wrong, Stan... you didn't.

Kyle could tell Stan had started losing his composure during the voicemail.

"Please talk to me, Kyle. You're... you're the only person in the whole world that I care about... I- I know people say that to each other all the time, to be nice, but it's true Kyle... y-you know how I feel about my family... I hate them and they hate me... I can't... I can't have you hate me too-" his voice trailed off as some slightly more distant sobs were heard, like Stan had pulled away from the phone for a moment to cry. It returned shortly after, "I can't Kyle... you're the only one I care about... you're just... you're just the only one. Please, don't shut me out... please. C-Call me back or... or talk to me at school. But please, don't leave me too. I- I don't know what I would do without you."

The line went silent as Kyle slowly pulled his phone from his ear.

This really is all my fault.

I'm so sorry, Stan. I'm so sorry. He curled up in his seat and cried, openly and miserably.

The doctor had eventually dismissed Stan's parents from the room after a few hours. Normally they could stay but neither of them could bring themselves to do it, and they went home for the night, promising to return in the morning. But Kyle didn't leave. For the first time, he entered Stan's room and his heart shattered all over again when he saw his friend laying in the bed, his hands strapped down by his sides and his peaceful, beautiful face in a deep slumber.

The redhead walked to the bedside and gently grasped the other boy's hand in his own, squeezing lightly. His other hand made its way to stroke through Stan's shaggy, soft black hair, brushing his bangs out of his forehead.

Kyle smiled sadly. He always teased Stan about his hair. Kyle didn't have the most composed hair himself, but it wasn't like he was gonna poke fun as himself. The smile slowly faded as he spoke.

"I... I've thought so long about what I'm going to say to you when you wake up...," he started, a lone tear strolling down his flushed cheek. "But I've come up with nothing. Nothing. Can you believe that? We're in... the damn psycho section of the hospital... you're sick, and we're here... and I can't even think of a damn word to say... and I've been calling you an idiot. Whose the real idiot here? No, I'm just... a shitty best friend. A shitty person in general." He hung his head shamefully before continuing, "I did this to you. I... I did this. I'm so sorry. Words cannot express... they can't express how deeply sorry I am, Stan..." He cried miserably now, collapsing to his knees and burying his face into his arms, folded across Stan's chest. "Please wake up! I... I don't know what I'd do without you, either!" He shouted desperately. "I'll never yell at you again! I'll... I'll treat you with the same kindness and respect you deserve, the kind you've shown me... all these years... I don't deserve your kindness. God, I don't deserve you. I just, I love... I love you so much... just please, wake up... I'm sorry! I'll never treat you so bad ever again, I promise! Just wake up!"

"Kyle...?"

Kyle's watery eyes shot open as his head snapped up and he saw those deep, pretty blue ones looking back at him- dully and tiredly, but that didn't matter. They were open.

"Stan!" He quickly threw his arms around Stan, embracing him as much as he could with the restraints in place. "You're awake!"

"I... I'm alive...?" Stan choked in a small, very hoarse voice.

"Yes, dummy, you're alive, don't sound so disappointed!" Kyle could feel himself getting mad again, but it was overcome by relief. "Don't ever do that again!"

Stan blinked droopily and tried to move his arms, to find he couldn't. In his tired and ill state, he seemed to panic a little. "W-What.. why-"

"Shhhh...," Kyle cooed, gently brushing Stan's hair with his fingers. "It's okay. It's just for safety."

Stan's eyes closed as he took a deep, shaky breath. Kyle could tell he understood the situation.

"Listen, Stan... I-"

"I-It's okay Kyle. I heard everything."

"...everything?"

Stan nodded slowly.

Kyle flushed a little in embarrassment, but if was for the best. He felt he got out what he needed in order to try and fix this situation.

"I- I want you to k-know I g-get it now."

"Get what?"

"E-Everything. How you f-feel. Why you're upset."

Kyle blinked. "Stan... it's okay, I just-"

"No... it's not," Stan started, but coughed painfully for a little while as Kyle winced and gently rubbed his chest to try and soothe him. "I- I should have known- I'm sorry, Kyle. I-I'm sorry for b-being an idiot."

Tears still poured out of Kyle's eyes like Niagara Falls while he laughed sympathetically. "Well... I should have just been straight forward, instead of expecting you to be able to read my mind... I'm sorry for putting so much pressure on you, and humiliating you..." Kyle's smile faded as he stroked Stan's cheek where he had slapped him. "It'll never, ever happen again... I swear."

Stan struggled to smile, but managed to do it as he nuzzled his cheek into Kyle's hand, sighing in content and closing his eyes. "Kyle, come closer..."

Kyle blinked curiously and did as he was told and leaned closer to Stan's face. "What is it?-" he yelped slightly in surprise when Stan lifted himself up off the bed slightly to press his lips against Kyle's, kissing him gently.

Kyle didn't give himself too much time to be surprised before he gratefully started kissing back. It was his dream come true. He pictured it in a slightly different scenario, but it was finally happening. He kissed Stan with all his love he had boggled up inside over the years, until they parted for breath. They gazed into each other's eyes for a long time before Kyle managed to snuggle into the bed with Stan.

"I love you too, Kyle." Stan said before he drifted off to sleep, followed shortly by a smiling Kyle.

The next few weeks were rough, with Stan's recovery, the psychiatric treatment and concerns from the hospital, the child care service concern upon the discovery of Stan's motives behind his actions, and regaining the strength and spirit to return to school, but they managed to get through it, because they were together. United. Their love was stronger than ever and they vowed nothing could change that for them, for as long as they both lived.

whoooo that was dramatic XD but i hope you guys liked it, it's just an idea i thought of and wrote last night. now honestly i don't know anything at all about medical procedure or how drugs would realistically affect a person or anything like that, but i've read enough to know the basic stuff so that's what i used based on the small amount of knowledge i have so sorry if i offended any... medical geniuses who may happen to read this xD i also thought about throwing this into my other story i'm working on Love Wins but decided to make it it's own one-shot so i could give it more depth. also disclaimer; i don't own south park, if i did, this would happen! XD anyway, please r&r! thanks and ciao!