'Persever' is done, but there's no rest for the wicked, neh heh heh. I'm so excited about this story that I could hardly wait to get it up, so here it is! Please read and review, as comments are much appreciated! Let me know what you think.

Warnings: This does have homosexual characters, but it's not the main theme of the plot for once. Still, if you have a problem with this, don't read it. I'd hate to stain your already blind eyes... This is also rated T for teen because of language and 'disturbing moments of peril.' Or so I've been told, I mean... I'm only writing the thing...

Disclaimer: Let's have a little quiz/poll thingy. How many people think: A. I should keep putting disclaimers up here just to be safe; B. I should stop putting disclaimers up because no one actually cares; C. I should keep the disclaimers just because they're so damn funny (haha... yeah right); or D. I should shoot myself and have rabid monkey dance on my grave while singing 'La Coo Ca Ratcha' and burning whatever ungodly fanfictions I've writen in the past so that no child may be tainted by their horridness. Note: if you choose D I will remove your stomach through your mouth. And now for the actual disclaimer: I don't own anything South Park.

Okay, thank you for being patient and... Enjoy!

Because You're Always There

Chapter One

I heard nothing but the sound of my own breath; fleeting and small, it panted raggedly as if it weren't even my own. The first thing I thought was how beautiful the stars looked. They glinted and twinkled against the midnight sky as if laughing and dancing through the wispy clouds over head. I smiled and let out a small chuckle, blinking the debris from my eyes.

'What's that flickering?' I found myself thinking. For some reason I couldn't find the strength to turn my neck toward the light. It was so tantalizing, because my mind was so dazed. I just had no idea what it was, and it was driving my curiosity insane. At last, with a grunt, I conquered my body and flopped my head over to the left.

"It's a fire," I chortled, my eyes half closed. The tiny spout of flame burned brightly on the blackened asphalt of the road. It looked as if it was trying to wrench itself free from the twisted metal anchoring it. It struggled and wiggled frantically in the icy wind, and small snowflakes descended from the heavens. "Oh no…" I whimpered. "You'll put it out…."

The snow didn't care. It just continued to fall ever so softly and silently. I licked my lips and felt how dry they were. Where was I? I recognized this road. Was I driving on it?

I found the strength in me to reach below my waist. My leg was throbbing annoyingly, and I had to see why. Maybe I was itchy, or maybe it had fallen asleep. My middle finger touched cold steel, and the half hearted grin that was so fragile upon my lips finally shattered.

What was that? I lowered my hand tentatively, my mind just starting to return to life. The frozen metal ended and my fingers swam in a pool of warm liquid on my thigh, just above my knee. I lifted my head and stared down at the area and my eyes grew wide with shock.

Blood blossomed like a horrific fountain from my leg and drizzled in a steady stream onto the dirty ground below. All at once the pain rushed up my spine like a blast of lighting. The nearby forest echoed my shrill scream mockingly as I sat up and twitched involuntarily.

My hands hovered around the shard of steel embedded into my thigh, shaking and shivering as if they had no idea what to do with the foreign object. Fragments of glass that had gone completely unnoticed just minutes before were making their presence known; cut into the shallow skin of my arms. My mouth opened into a soundless cry and I twisted my torso around to assess my surroundings.

Fire dotted the road to my left, causing shattered glass to shimmer brightly in their sheen. A car toward my right was completely flipped over. The pain was unbearable, but I had to get closer to it. Someone else… someone else had been in the car. Where was he? Where was Kyle?

"Stan…"

Kyle had to have been somewhere near. I heard his voice. I shouted in agony as I used my arms to pull my limp legs across the grass. "Kyle!" I shouted, my voice not my own, but horrible, breathless ghost.

"Stan!"

Closer… had to get closer….

"Stan, are you even listening to me?" I blinked, being brought unceremoniously back from my nightmare. No, not a nightmare… my past. Gingerly I brushed my hand against the pale blue pants of my trousers. Even now, I could still feel the scar. Nearly 100 stitches and almost a year of rehab in a hospital.

"I'm listening," I answered absently, my eyes still trying to adjust to the bright white walls of the hospital room. The sheets to my bed were furled and twisted into a mass of cheap fabric and my bed side stand held a dry vase with wilting flowers slowly loosing their color. In general, the entire room was pale and bland; boring.

He appeared right in my face and I chocked on a gasp, banging my head against the head board with a hollow clang. "Jesus, Kyle!" I cursed at him, rubbing the back of my raven colored locks of hair.

"Then what did I just say?" he asked, pursing his lips and leaning into me, his hands poised behind his back cutely.

"What?" He stared at me, humorless. "Okay, okay, um… you said… something about my room being a mess?"

Kyle continued to glare daggers at me, his face unchanging. Finally, his nostrils flared and he sighed, straightening out his back. "Lucky guess, bastard." Kyle walked elegantly toward a nearby chair and sank into it. "You're always the lucky one."

"Not as lucky as you," I corrected, my eyes drooping low toward the speckled tile floor. "I'm still stuck in this hospital."

"I thought I told you to stop thinking about that night," Kyle groaned. He got up with a smirk and left the room. I ran my hand along the back of my head again… it still hurt. In a few moments, Kyle returned, holding something behind his back.

"You spoil me," I grinned, anticipating what the surprise would be.

"A boy in a hospital needs something good every day to keep his spirits up!" Kyle whipped his hands around showed off a neatly wrapped package.

"You say that as if I'm going to die!" I chuckled, beckoning my friend closer. Kyle's face flashed grimly before his usual smile returned. He practically skipped back towards my side and plopped the present down into my lap. "Hey, be careful," I spat, picking up the box and raised my nose toward Kyle. "I don't ever want anything dropped on my leg ever again!"

"There you go again," Kyle reprimanded shaking his head. "That was a long time ago. You need to stop mentioning it." I wasn't paying attention, eagerly opening up the gift like a child on Christmas.

"Cookies?" I sighed after plunging my hand into the box. "Chocolate chip, even? Can't you think of something else to bring me?"

"You complain too much," Kyle said, shortly. "You're lucky I bring you anything at all!" There was a slight beat and the red head shook his head again. "Fine. What would you rather have?"

I was already chowing down into the pastry goods. I looked up to him, my mouth full to bursting. Kyle tried his best to keep a straight face but couldn't keep up the act for long. He exploded into a roaring guffaw, and tried to cover his mouth politely with his hand. After swallowing, I answered, "How about freshly baked bread?"

"And how am I supposed to keep the bread fresh on my way here?" Kyle asked, haughtily. He motioned with his hand to show I had some crumbs on my face.

I shrugged and wiped my lips clean. "I don't know. But you'll figure something out. You always do. You're just smart like that."

"Ugh, speaking of," Kyle moaned. "How do you feel about English homework?"

"I don't wanna!" I shouted, pounding my fists like a toddler into the mattress and kicking my legs in a tantrum. Unfortunately, Kyle was already getting out the books from under my hospital bed.

"Just because you're in this hospital doesn't mean you can slack off. You want to go to college eventually, right? Well, you won't get there if you let your brain rot in this place," Kyle pointed out. "I'll pay you back," he whispered coolly into my ear, leaving a buzz to slowly cascade down my spine.

"With what?" I asked, my voice merely a whisper. Kyle leaned in and placed his soft lips upon my cheek, and I felt his long lashed tickle the side of my brow.

"How's that?" he simpered.

"I think I'll need plenty more of those," I admitted, picking up the obnoxiously heavy text book off the floor, "to get through all of this alive."

"Well, you're already in a hospital, so you're halfway there!" the red head joked coyly. I opened my mouth for a rebuttal, but was cut off by my mother clearing her throat.

"Stan?" she asked from the doorway. "Oh, good, you're starting your studies. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Feeling any better today? Did you take your medication?"

I dismally cast my eyes towards the bottle full of manila capsules that was placed neatly behind the vase of flowers. "Yes, mom," I lied. "And I still don't know why I have to take pills. I feel fine, really!"

"Oh, well," my mom started, trying to mask her sorrowful eyes with a smile. "You know what the doctors say, honey: better safe than sorry. Do you… do you maybe want me to stick around? You know… keep you company a little while?"

I rolled my eyes. Mom had seen Kyle kiss me and was worried about what we might do together. "No, mother," I replied, politely. "I've got Kyle here. He's more company than I need, haha."

Mom smiled, but again it just looked… empty. "Okay then, dear. I'll just leave you alone then." She turned around and started to leave.

"Goodbye, Mrs. Marsh," Kyle called back, waving his hand in the air. "Geeze, what was with her?"

"I don't think she agrees with…" I paused, trying to find the right words. "Us…"

"Oh, yeah," Kyle nodded, looking back to watch my mother walk briskly down the hallway. "You've told me about that. Are you sure? I mean, she doesn't seem the type, you know?"

"All I want to do is finish this homework and get it over with so you and I can hang out some more."

"And eat more cookies," Kyle correct. He pushed the box closer to me and dangled his fingers in front of my eyes. "You love cookies," he stated in a windy voice. "You can't live without cookies! You must eat all the cookies!"

"What are you trying to do, hypnotize me?" I laughed, batting his hands away. Obediently, I reached down and grabbed a handful of the misshapen circles. There was a loud knock at my door, and a male nurse entered with a tray suspended by one hand. "Hey, Jim," I greeted, and Kyle did the same.

"I brought you your dinner," Jim said, grinning and lifting the plate up for me to see. Jim had to have been around thirty; and it was noticeable, as he was already starting to get grey hair peppered in with his black. He was tall and broad, like he lifted weights often. Though I don't know why, since he's just a nurse. Maybe he has a day job or something that requires heavy lifting.

"No thanks," I responded. "I've got cookies."

Jim frowned and lowered the tray. "You really should eat something, Stan," he said, cold and serious. "Abigail made it personally. I'd hate to bring it back to her uneaten… again. Really, eat something."

"Yeah, cause my cookies aren't good enough for you," Kyle mocked, placing his hands on his hips and wiggling his behind.

"Stop that," I growled. "Sorry about him, Jim. And I'm sorry again, but, Kyle will get even crazier if I don't eat all of these. I'm fine, truly. You'll just have to take it back."

"How about I leave it here," the tall man proposed, getting closer to the plastic bedside stand. "And you can eat it later tonight."

"There's no room," I countered, trying to wave him back.

"Well, I can just get rid of these," he said, motioning toward the flowers. "They look dry and dead anyway. I can just move this and-"

"No!" I shouted, my hand jutting out and gripping him by the wrist, just inches from the vase. Jim went rigid and looked as if he was about to pounce on me. "Leave those where they are. Please. I need them there." Gradually I let him go, and Jim backed out of the doorway.

"It's not healthy," he rasped quietly as he stomped out of the room. I looked over to Kyle, whose eyes were glazed over, a small smile struggling to stay on his face.

"I'm sorry, Kyle."

"It's okay, Stan," he assured me, his grin growing wider. "Really, it is. If you want, you can get rid of those flowers. You know… it was so long ago anyway."

"No…" I said, dreamily. "I'm going to keep them. They're precious to me."

"Okay… so…" Kyle slowly stepped forward, his hands behind his back again. "English?"

"Argh, way to kill the mood!" I hissed.

"Oh, c'mon, I gotta get home soon!"

"Alright, alright," I sighed. "Let's get this over with. And then I can see you tomorrow."

"Right," Kyle whispered, his eyes glossy and dim. "Tomorrow."