Oh yes. This is really what it looks like. I retyped the first 3 Chapters of my beloved story, When No One Else Cares, because - quite frankly - they made me sick. There were terrifying continuity errors and... well... the just generally sucked hard ass. So, here ya go. :) Rewritten.

When No One Else Cares

Kenny lay, stretched out, on Kyle's couch, taking up as much space as possible, his typical orange coat discarded by the door. "Got anymore food?" he asked between mouthfuls of ice cream. "OH FUCK!" he shouted suddenly, one hand flying to his forehead. "Fuck… fuckfuckfuckfuck."

Kyle jogged out of the kitchen and slid down the hall, almost falling when he tried to stop. "What? What happened? Are you okay?" He rushed over to Kenny, searching for a visible sign that something had happened.

"Yeah… just… brain freeze…" the blonde teen forced out through clenched teeth. His eyes were shut tightly as well. "Got any food that won't turn my head in to a fucking icicle?" he slowly opened one eye, though it remained squinted, and looked at the other boy, whose fire red hair still swayed from his hurried movements, light reflecting off the different tones that wove through the messy curls.

The Jewish boy glared down at his friend, frowning. "Yeah. We have some leftover Chinese in the fridge." He folded his arms over his chest as the boy's eyes snapped open and a wide smile spread across his face, hinting that he wasn't in all that much pain. Overdramatic little… Kyle grumbled internally.

"Yes!" He shouted, standing up and rushing to the kitchen. "My lucky fucking day…" he mumbled as he wrenched open the fridge door, causing bottles of sauces and containers of spices to rattle.

"You have a problem, you know that?" Kyle said as he walked in to the kitchen after Kenny, his arms still folded over his chest. "A serious problem you should get checked out."

"Mmph?" Kenny asked through a mouthful of cold chicken fried rice as he stepped back from the fridge, his arms holding more food than either one thought humanly possible. He closed the door with his foot and dumped everything on the counter, earning a disapproving eyebrow arch from the redhead. "What?" he asked again once he swallowed the large mouthful of food.

"Your swearing." The normally quiet intellectual replied, unfolding his arms and stuffing his hands in to his pockets. "It's out of control." He leaned against the door, his emerald eyes focused on the other boy that piled as much food as he could in to the Broflovski's small microwave before setting it to 'Reheat'.

He shrugged, his black-clad shoulders lifting by about an inch before falling again as he remained focused on the microwave. "Guess you're right. Oh well. Is it really that bad?" He popped the door and took the food out, coating it in sweet n' sour sauce before stuffing his face.

"Well, I think you should try stopping. If my mom heard you, she would kick you out in a heartbeat." Kyle frowned as Kenny, his mouth still full from the last round, shoved more food in to the microwave, once again setting it on reheat.

"Rr yur mmrents ere?" Kenny asked through a mouth full of sweet-n-sour-sauce-with-a-side-order-of-chicken-balls as he turned to face Kyle, the red sauce dripping down his face, giving him the appearance of a C-list horror movie vampire. He rolled his eyes when his friend gave him a questioning look, swallowed, wiped his mouth, then asked again. "Are your parents here?" he leaned against the counter, resting on his palms and crossing his ankles over each other. "Because I don't see them anywhere."

"That's not the point, Kenny." Kyle grumbled, exasperated, "if they were here, they'd kick you out. You should practice being well-mannered while you still have the chance." He pulled one hand out of his pocket to run it through his hair, wincing and grimacing when one of his fingers got caught in a curl. "Owww…" he whined, tugging his finger out of the tight swirl of hair.

"Well, when it happens, it happens. Right?" Kenny hoisted himself on to the counter and sat beside the microwave, waiting for it to finish cooking the rest of his meal. "Anyways, why does it matter if they kick me out?" a mischievous spark danced in Kenny's eyes as he asked the question – he'd find a way back in somehow.

Beeeeep.

The microwave finished reheating the rest of his second plate of food, and he quickly opened it and tugged it out, the hot plate burning his fingers. "Ow! Fuck, dude…" he stuck the burned fingers in his mouth and sucked on them, frowning. "'Ow m I gunna eat wif my 'and in my mouf?" he frowned passed his fingers at his food, his brow furrowed. "Kyyyylle…" he whined, turning around, "can you get me thome ithe?" he asked his concerned-looking friend. 'What are you so worried about, Kyle?' he thought as the other boy went through the freezer, popping some ice cubes in to a cloth, 'if I died, you wouldn't remember it.' He wrinkled his nose bitterly as Kyle turned his back to close the freezer, then smiled gratefully when he turned back around and handed him the ice-filled cloth.

"You should be more careful, Kenny." Kyle said, sounding like somebody's mother. "Oh, and when do you think you'll be heading home? My mom wanted to know…" He jumped up on to the counter that Kenny had been leaning against, taking a bite of one of the chicken balls before his friend could drown it in disgusting amounts of the viscous red condiment.

"When… am I going home…?" the pale blonde echoed, suddenly looking distant, "well… um… actually… I don't… know." He looked down and shifted the ice in his hand, trying to fight back the sudden urge to cry.

"Hey, dude. What happened? You know you can tell me." The concerned daywalker put his hand on his sullen-looking friend's shoulder, but pulled back when he winced.

Kenny looked up at Kyle, his watery blues meeting the concerned green eyes staring at him. "I… I kind of got kicked out. And, well, my parents got kind of rough. They were drunk, though." He mumbled as though it were a valid excuse then shrugged again, feigning nonchalance.

"You're kidding." When Kenny's pained expression didn't waver, Kyle hopped down off of the counter so he could see Kenny eye to eye – well, almost; Kenny was more than a few inches taller. "You're serious." He said, feeling the blood drain from his face. "What did they do to you, man?" he asked, afraid of what the answer may be.

Without saying a word, the taller boy lifted his shirt up and over his head. He wasn't scrawny, as Kyle had assumed he would be, but well defined. Tight muscles flexed under bruised and bloodied skin. Where there wasn't black, there was blue, or green, or purple. And, covering most of it were lines of blood and several shallow cuts. Upon seeing the curly-haired teen's face blanche, Kenny quickly grabbed his shirt and pulled it back on. "It's not as bad as it looks, really. The cuts are just from broken glass – beer bottles and shit. The bruises don't hurt that bad, either."

"You need to get washed up. And I won't take no for an answer." Kyle pointed towards the stairs that led up to the bedrooms and second floor bathroom, not wanting to push him in case he caused more pain. "When you're done, I'll bandage you up, alright?"

Kenny frowned at Kyle, every bit of him wanting to throw the worried teen against the counter and have his way with him. 'But,'he reasoned with himself, 'your best bet at getting any is to play along until after your shower. Just walk out in a towel… or maybe nothing…' He smiled, then nodded, making his way towards the bathroom.

It was going to be an interesting night.

OI! You wonderful readers you. Please review this, yeah? I was kicking around the idea of rewriting (okay, they're not rewritten. Just tweaked a fair bit) these chapters for a while. Did I do a good job? Does it flow better now?

Mega-love

- K