Chapter Text
Kyle forced his heavy eyes open, regrettably getting ripped from sleep at the blaring sound of his alarm. He cussed when he couldn’t mentally turn it off and rolled over to slap the top until it stopped making noise. He sat up and rubbed his face, trying to rub the sleep out too, but it was to no avail. He knew he’d have a restless sleep last night when he stayed up until 3 AM studying for his tests tomorrow, yet he still did it, telling himself it was a ‘future him problem.’ Fuck his past self. And fuck his future self too because he knew he’d be doing it again tonight.
Kyle pulled the covers off and sluggishly moved to his closet. He threw on an outfit and ran a brush through his hair, tugging aggressively until it got through.
He looked up when his door burst open with no knock and his brother came in.
“I’m stealing your TV remote.”
“You lost the living room remote again? You just lost it yesterday!”
“I was distracted doing other stuff, okay? It’s somewhere, but I don’t want to waste my time looking for it right now, especially if I can just use yours since it’s the same model.”
Kyle rolled his eyes, too tired to fight about it. Not like Ike was going to take no for an answer, already snatching it off the TV stand and walking out.
“Can’t you have the courtesy of at least shutting the door on your way out?!?” Kyle yelled out as Ike walked away. He got no answer, just heard the television downstairs turning on to one of Ike’s dumbass Canadian channels way too fucking loud for 6 in the morning.
Kyle slammed his door shut, making sure Ike could hear it downstairs. He finished getting ready, putting on his signature hat and jacket and putting all of his papers and books he was studying earlier back in his bag before moving to the bathroom.
Midway through brushing his teeth, Kyle reached into the medicine cabinet to grab some Ibuprofen. He didn’t have a full-on headache yet, but he felt one about to form, and when he found the lost remote in the place of the pill bottle, he knew it was going to be a bad one. Especially if the rest of the day continued down this path.
He finished brushing his teeth and looked all around for the bottle, mumbling cuss words directed at Ike for being such a cottonhead sometimes. It took him way too long to find them buried behind all the band-aids and disinfectant ointments, long enough that his mom started to yell at him to hurry downstairs or he wouldn’t have time for breakfast before school. He took two right then and another when he got downstairs when Ike refused to turn the volume down.
The second he finished, he quickly walked out and sat on the doorstep as he waited for Stan. Who was running late. Of course. That one wasn’t much of a surprise, but it added to his grumpiness nonetheless. He decided to take the time to study a little more and pulled out one of his notebooks and skimmed it for anything he didn’t understand yet. He could have just driven himself since he had a hand-me-down car that he could have taken – well, normally he could, the battery was currently dead and waiting to be replaced – but he didn’t really trust that thing. It was just supposed to last him until the end of the year, then he’d get a much more reliable one after graduation. And besides it being a hunk of junk, it gave Stan the motivation to get to class on time and not ditch, and he knew Stan wouldn’t leave him there with no word. It was a good way to hang out with Stan before and after school and make sure he wasn’t rotting away in his room.
Kyle checked his phone anxiously as the minutes ticked by until he heard the familiar motor turning the corner. He bit down his nerves and annoyance, knowing yelling at Stan wasn’t going to help anyone, especially the man himself. He opened the passenger door and shuffled in, making sure he didn’t drop any of the notes he had out.
The ride was quiet besides the My Chemical Romance playing low in the background, Stan taking the hint when Kyle reopened his notebook to continue studying. Kyle could tell Stan wanted to remark that he didn’t have to study so much, the usual ‘you’re so smart, you’ll do fine’ bullshit, but unlike normal, his study time had been cut short with all the other shit he had going on, so he really was far behind, even if Stan didn’t think so.
They made it to the school only a few minutes before the bell rang, just enough time to find Kenny hanging at their usual spot with a few of their other friends, most likely talking about their Friday and weekend plans.
“Hey, dudes!” Kenny happily greeted, his smile not deterred by either of their expressions. “I see you’re both having a wonderful morning!” Kenny slid to the free side of Stan, wrapping an arm around him and patting his arm. “Tolkien showed up this morning and showed us all this video from his security camera. When playing basketball, Clyde tried to show off his throw and it ricocheted off the pole and pelted him right in the fucking face!” Kenny pulled out his phone, pulled up his chat with Tolkien, and opened the video.
Kyle watched as Stan watched, hearing the moment the ball hit the pole of the hoop and the sound of it hitting skin a split second later. Stan cracked a smile and let out a hearty chuckle, and Kyle inwardly thanked Kenny for existing.
They both saw it, Stan’s decrease in mood. They weren’t sure when it started up again, most likely a slow, gradual transition, but sometime a few weeks ago it got bad enough that they caught on. The lack of focus, the tired bags under his eyes, not smiling when greeting people, isolating himself… it was pretty sad it wasn’t until he started wearing baggy throw-on clothes did Kyle, his boyfriend, realize the change. The next step, and he’d be going full goth again. At least then Kyle would surely take notice.
Luckily he didn’t seem too bad; he still went to school every day, even if it was just to drive Kyle there (but Kyle preferred not to think of it that way), and he still cracked a smile and lightened up when given the attention he required. At least he was easy to pull out of that mindset, and they were both lucky Kenny always knew how. Kyle felt a twinge of guilt about dumping that responsibility on Kenny, being his boyfriend and all, and he would like to help him, but he had too much on his plate to be playing therapist. He had been feeling extremely high-strung the past month, and not to be an ass because he knew Stan had no control over it, but Stan’s mood didn’t help with that. It probably would be worse for both of them if he did try and fix him while they’re both trying to fight their own, very different battles.
Still, he felt bad about leaving Stan to deal with things alone. As he watched Stan smile as he talked to Kenny, he made a mental note to schedule a time when they could hang out, just the two of them. Until then, or until Stan reached out to one of them, Kyle and Kenny – as well as anyone who got a good look at him – treated him very softly, refraining from making any snide remarks or teasing him about anything, only positive comments and lighthearted jokes. Until Stan reached out to them or overcame whatever hurdle he was facing on his own, that and his antidepressants would have to suffice. They made it very clear that he could always talk to them, and Stan knew that, so they weren’t too concerned if he hadn’t yet, like he had done in the past.
Kenny looked away from his phone when he successfully lightened up Stan. “What about you, firecracker?” Kenny said, still with that bright smile even when Kyle glared daggers at him. Kenny heard Stan call Kyle that once as a term of endearment and decided it was okay for him to say it too because he thought it was funny and fit his personality. Much less endearing. “What’s got you looking so chippy? Did ya pull an all-nighter studying for that test you were talking about?”
“No. I just stayed up a little later… until 3.”
Kenny whistled. “And I’m sure you’ll do it again tonight, wanting to be over-prepared and all, as in your nature.”
“I’m not over-preparing. I’ve only started reviewing this week. If anything, I’m way behind.”
“What do you mean?” Kenny questioned. “You’ve been too busy to hang out for the past two weeks. I thought you were studying or working on a project or something.”
“Busy with other shit,” Stan flatly responded. It was unclear if he was trying to be helpful or spiteful, but neither scolded him regardless.
“Yeah, um,” Kyle stuttered, thrown off by Stan, “I’ve been working on college applications. You know, researching, applying, scholarships, essays, documentation, you know the stuff.”
“Didn’t you already apply to that med school?”
“Yeah, but what if I don’t get accepted? Can’t hurt to apply to one or two backups. Or seven.”
“Seven??” Kenny echoed.
Stan pat Kyle’s back. “You’ll get in. There’s literally no way you won’t.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t want to leave it up to chance. Better be safe than sorry. But all those applications and scholarships took a chunk out of my study time. I only really sat down to study starting yesterday.”
Kenny gasped in mock horror. “Only yesterday? How will you ever pass this one measly test with only 48 hours to study?”
Kyle scowled. “It’s not just a test, dick, it’s two. And they’re both AP courses.”
Kenny tsked. “Damn, two of your teachers gave you a test on the day of the festival?”
“You mean that music festival the mayor is putting on just to show how much our small town knows about ‘different cultures and genres?’ I’m already getting a headache thinking about all the different bands trying to play over each other.”
“Maybe it’ll be a little more coordinated than that art festival last month…” Kenny recalled the three buildings that burned down. “Maybe not. But at least the food is pretty good. Still kinda a dick move to make you do a test on the same day.”
“To be fair, the mayor just announced that stupid festival recently for popularity reasons while my teachers have an agenda. That happened to overlap.”
“You’re still coming though, right? You’ll be done with your tests by then so you really have no excuse.”
Kyle huffed a small laugh. “Yeah, whatever, I’ll be there.”
“Good!” Kenny slipped between his two friends and brought them in a group hug. “It’s been too long since we’ve all hung out outside of school!” He let go and pushed Kyle through the classroom doorway they walked over to, “Finish being smart so we can make dumb decisions together!”
Kyle waved them off as they continued down the hallway to their first class. Kyle calmly took out the notebook he was studying before and sighed. He didn’t remember over half the shit he was looking at, even after all that studying. And this was just for his AP World test. He hadn’t even looked at his notes for his AP Calculus II test yet. Why’d they have to be the two topics that were on the complete opposite spectrums of learning?
He spent the next two classes studying for his AP World test, then tried to haul himself in the library during lunch to begin reviewing his Calculus, but Kenny passed him in the hallway and demanded he take a break and join them for lunch. Kyle hesitated, then reluctantly agreed; he had been studying the review sheets the teachers gave him yesterday, so he figured a break could be useful.
With the day he was having, he should have gone with his gut and pushed past Kenny to the library. Already stressed out of his mind, Cartman seemed to notice and fucking went for it.
He hadn’t even sat down yet and Cartman hit him with the “Here comes the thundercunt.”
Kyle blew air out of his nose. He kept his mouth shut as he sat down with Stan between him and Cartman.
“Hey Kyle, you gonna eat that?” Cartman asked, already reaching over and shoving his greasy hands in his tray.
Kyle’s lip curled and he pushed his tray over, letting Cartman win and have his lunch. Stan slid his tray over for Kyle, giving a small (forced, Kyle could tell) smile. “I’m not hungry.”
Kyle thanked him and took Stan’s fork with one hand and slapping Cartman’s protruding hand reaching over Stan with the other. “You already got my tray!”
“That’s technically yours now too, so I have to have that one.”
Kyle stabbed Cartman’s hand with the plastic fork and the group covered their ears at his cry.
“What the fuck, Jew? God, we got an extra bitchy ginger today! I thought you finished your period last week!” He rubbed his hand as he puffed his bottom lip out in a pout. “Is it because Stan’s been a whiny baby recently?”
“Cartman,” Kenny warned.
“Has he been too self-deprecating to perform during your daily fuck sessions? Is that it? You're pissy because Stan hasn’t given you a good dicking recently?”
Kyle slammed his fist down on the table. “Cartman, that’s fucking disgusting! Don’t you have any life besides making everyone else miserable?”
“You're the one who makes everyone miserable! Everyone else is just too much of a pussy to say it.”
“That’s not true.”
“Nobody likes a know-it-all, pissy, aggressive, Jersey, ginger, Jewish bitch that refuses to use an enema to get the sand out of his vagina.”
Kyle growled. “Not as much as they hate dealing with a racist, bigoted, manipulative chubby asshole who doesn’t even know what an enema does!”
“What did I say: know-it-all. I bet you also know how to use one.”
Kyle glared.
“Fucking told you. This is why everyone talks behind your back.”
Kyle stared, jaw slacked, unable to think of a comeback. Fortunately, his group got tired of their conversation and butted in.
“You’re just talking out of your ass, Fatboy,” Craig said in between bites of his sandwich. “You’re just still butthurt that we didn’t invite you to dinner before the festival and you’re taking your anger out on Kyle like always.”
“Like I’d want to go to dinner with you dickholes anyway,” Cartman muttered.
Conversations resumed their usual tone after that, but Kyle wasn’t paying attention. Cartman succeeded in pissing him off, and that argument was the only thing that was on his mind. Even Stan rubbing his back failed to pull him out of his anger. He had never been so thankful for the final class bell to ring so he could go back to studying. As he returned to his studies, Kyle found himself replaying his fight with Cartman, annoyed Cartman got the last insult. In the midst of studying in the quiet classroom, Kyle almost shouted out the perfect insult response that had popped up in his head. Damn, if only he thought of that an hour ago.
Even though he got a review sheet for both tests (that he already finished), Kyle always studied more just in case. He felt better about both by the end of the school day, but not enough to call it good, and he texted Stan that he was going to spend some time after school in the library.
Kyle wasn’t the biggest fan of last-minute cramming, at least by itself, but it was pretty effective. By the time Kyle went home, he felt a lot more prepared. He still knew he’d be up late again, that’s just how anxiety works sometimes. At least he had a few hours of break time. He didn’t even check his phone until dinner, only then seeing the notifications he’d missed. A few were from group chats, some shitty or inappropriate memes, Cartman and Craig got into some sort of argument, and he got a private message from Stan a few hours ago. Only one, most likely because he knew Kyle was busy studying.
Stan just sent him the typical conversation starter. He typed out a simple response back to Stan and left the group chats on read before putting it back down for the rest of the night. He only had a few more hours before he had those tests, and he planned on making use of that time.
He made sure to give himself enough time to sleep so he wasn’t a zombie in the morning, and thank fuck Stan showed up early to take them to school. Stan happily greeted him and didn’t expect a response since Kyle slid in with his textbook up to his nose, not even looking away to buckle himself in. Once they arrived, he tuned out Stan and Kenny’s light conversation as they sat in the courtyard waiting for class to start, only distracting Kyle when the bell rang. They walked quietly to Kyle’s classroom until they were outside the door.
“Good luck Einstein! Not that you need it!” Kenny supported.
“I still gotta get through first period before my test,” Kyle said pessimistically.
“You want to give me your notes? I can make poster boards of them and stand outside your classroom and hold them up in the doorway when your teacher isn't looking,” he offered.
Kyle smiled as he rolled his eyes. “I think I’ll manage. I’d hate for you to get caught and have the teacher make us retake the test.”
“Nah, Mrs. Becks loves me. Mr. Hall might be a bit harder though if I get caught.”
“Just get to class,” Kyle said, already walking to his seat.
He did one more skim through his notes during the short first class period before calling it quits and plopping down in his AP World class.
Aaand he wished he studied more. He stared blankly at a third of those questions, most of them expecting a paragraph response. He was able to answer them all, although many of them were more of a wing-it situation than he wished. There wasn’t anything he could do about it now except wish he looked over those obscure sections more.
Calculus wasn’t much better. The teacher decided to put the most difficult integral questions on the exam, mixed with maximum rate of volume questions back to back, most likely purposefully trying to trip everyone up since they used the opposite method. Again, he was left wishing he reviewed integration using trig substitution and optimization problems along with who besides Napoleon was a general during the French Revolution.
He was quiet during lunch, too busy Googling the questions – and arguing with Cartman – to engage in the rest of the conversation until he was directly paged.
“I know you’re bummed about your test, Kyle, but at least it’s over! Now you can forget all about your woes at dinner tonight, eat actual food that doesn’t taste like cardboard-” Kenny lifted his half-eaten tray, “-and party all night! I stole some of my parent’s liquor so we can really enjoy the festival tonight!” The whole group sparked at that, all down except for Tweek.
Stan leaned in so the others couldn’t hear him. “I’m sure you did fine, Ky. You always assume you got a worse score than you actually did.”
“These were bad though.”
“Then your whole class failed and that’s the teachers' fault, not yours. Don’t beat yourself up about it until it’s graded. You’re miserable the whole time, and Kenny’s not gonna let up until you stop thinking about it. I’m not either.”
Kyle liked it when Stan comforted him, it had been a while.
Kyle took a deep sigh and tried to let it go, for Stan. “Right, you’re right.” He closed out of the Google tabs and turned off his phone. “Are you still coming over after school?” It was a week or so since they talked about him stopping by to replace his car battery.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, um,” Stan stuttered, obviously forgetting about it, “yeah, I can for a little bit. Do you have the new battery?”
“Yeah, if time’s what you’re worried about. We should have more than enough time to get that puppy replaced before dinner.”
“Yo, penis swallowers, mind joining us in the private convo?”
Kyle closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. “I swear to God, Cartman.”
----
Kyle reopened his textbooks as Stan propped open the hood of Kyle’s car. He did say he’d push the tests behind him, but he just needed to know the answers and how wrong he was, and since there wasn’t much Kyle could do to help Stan besides hold a few wires and test the voltage of the battery, he could quickly sneak in a peak.
He sighed as he reread all his wrong answers, practically memorizing them now that it didn’t matter.
“You better be working on your nonexistent homework and not looking at your AP textbooks,” Stan said, hunched over and not even having to look at him.
Kyle slammed the books closed. “I’m not!” he said like a little kid in trouble.
Stan let out a low chuckle. “Get your ass over here and put this thing in there.”
Kyle smiled and walked up with the new battery. Stan helped him put it in, and by helped he meant Stan basically did all of it while Kyle watched. Stan didn’t expect him to pay attention anyway, but Kyle was extra distracted this time. He always thought it was cute (and a little sexy) when Stan worked on things, but he looked extra adorable today. He had smiled more than he probably had all month since he saw him that morning. Even at lunch he was more talkative. Kyle couldn’t help himself and slid his hand down Stan’s arm until his hand was on top of his, slipping his fingers between the gaps of Stan’s hand.
“Are you trying to distract me?”
“No, I’m just learning how to do it, following the actions with my own hand.”
Stan looked at him with half-lidded eyes, still smiling. Kyle took the opportunity to give him a little peck. He gasped and stepped back when his finger got pinched by the engine.
“Shit, sorry,” Stan apologized. He brought Kyle’s hand up to his mouth and gave his finger a sloppy, wet kiss. He laughed as Kyle let out a disgusted squeal and went inside to wash his hands.
“You should go wash your fucking mouth out too; you just put my finger in your mouth after it touched the filthy insides of that car.”
“I’ve done worse,” Stan shot back, finishing the final test and turning on the car. He unhooked the lid and shut the hood before dusting his hands off each other.
They came back inside, laughing like normal, something they hadn’t done in weeks. Kyle paused, remembering his backpack and books were still outside, and excused himself as he went to go get them. Stan watched him walk out, then turned to his father who was reading the newspaper in the kitchen.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Broflovski.”
Gerald looked up from his paper and smiled politely at Stan. “Hey, Stanley. How’s it going?”
“It’s… going. Long couple of weeks.”
“I know how you feel. We’ve been working hard back at the firm the past month, I don’t think there’s been one day I’ve come home on time.”
“...On that case?” Stan asked softly.
Gerald sighed and put the paper down. “Yes, that one.”
“Any progress?”
“Not as much as we’d like. ‘Horizon Enterprises’ is a large company that has a lot of money to cover up its shady business. We got very lucky to get ahold of those documents, but until we catch a little more, it’s just something we have over their heads.”
Kyle came back with his bag over his shoulder, witnessing his dad give Stan the sternest face he’s ever seen him give Stan.
“We would be in deep trouble if those fell into the wrong hands, which is why we’re working as fast and quietly as we can.” Kyle didn’t need to ask what they were talking about; the whole family discussed his dad’s newest case trying to take down the shitty conglomerate that works to get natural resources in whatever way they could and sell them at ridiculous interest. He didn’t know much more than that, besides that what they were doing was illegal. Whatever that meant. But they were told to never bring it up or they might slip from their hands if it gets out. The only other person they told was Stan. Kyle asked if he could know since they never told secrets and it would be a bitch to hide from him, and he was relieved when his dad agreed. “You haven’t told anybody about anything, not even your parents, right?”
Stan shook his head in small quick movements. “...No, I haven't,” he responded.
Gerald nodded, content with that answer, and went back to his paper. “Hopefully you won’t have to worry about it much longer.”
Stan walked out of the kitchen and back to Kyle.
Kyle saw Stan’s eyes glued to the floor in thought and put a hand on his back. “Sorry if you wish you were never brought in on the whole case. I know you worry for our safety, but my dad says everything is handled. They won’t dare come for us with the dirt my dad and his coworkers found in their possession.”
“I know. Still don’t like the situation it puts you guys in for trying to do the right thing.” Stan looked up with a small smile. “But as long as you’re all safe, I’m content and happy.”
Kyle patted his back before stepping away to adjust his bag. “Enough on that, that’s not our problem! Dinner is. You mind if I step in the shower real quick?”
“Yeah, go ahead, I should probably go home anyway.”
Kyle cocked his head. “You don’t have to. I washed the spare clothes you keep here and we have enough time to both take showers.”
“Not if I stay and distract you the whole time. We’re trying to get rid of the stigma of always being the ‘fashionably late’ couple, remember?”
Kyle pouted but relented.
Stan laughed and gave him one more kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Yeah, whatever, bye,” Kyle replied with feigned offense, disappearing into the bathroom as Stan walked downstairs.
He genuinely did get upset however when Stan texted him an hour later saying he’d probably miss dinner because ‘something came up,’ and refused to elaborate. He closed out of their chat with an aggressive swipe and a huff before shoving his phone aggressively into his pocket. Kyle drove his now-working shitbox to the nice restaurant just outside of town.
Kyle brushed off any questions about Stan, saying multiple times that he didn’t know and that he wasn’t his lap dog when they kept persisting. Perhaps he was being a tad petty about Stan's last-minute ditching, and all their friends asking him over and over wasn’t helping. Hopefully, they’d all stop once they went to the festival where Stan should be meeting them.
It was safe to say Kyle was pretty pissed when Stan wasn’t there, and even more so when he wasn’t answering his phone. In a moment of pettiness, he turned off his phone for the rest of the night; if Stan was going to ignore him, he could do the same. Kyle tried to enjoy the night the best he could with the rest of his friends, and he did overall have a good time once he got Stan off his brain.
The music was loud and abstract half of the time, but there were some good songs and bands that played, and Kenny was right about the snacks and drinks being really good. There were a few drunken fights and there was a giant hole in the stage by the end of the night, but it was honestly one of the tamest events South Park had ever had, Cartman present and all.
When he got home, he turned his phone back on, getting annoyed all over again that Stan hadn’t even texted once. Kyle’s pettiness of ignoring him didn’t even work since Stan didn’t even seem to care to text him back. He was supposed to come back with him and spend the night, but now Kyle didn’t even want him there. Not like he could get ahold of him anyway.
“What could be so important that you ignore your boyfriend all night, anyway?” Kyle grumbled to himself, tossing his phone on his bed. He finished getting ready for the night and checked his phone one last time, already knowing there wouldn’t be any new messages in that small amount of time since he last checked, then plugged it in before turning it face down on his nightstand.
He wiped the annoyance from his brain for the night. Whatever the reason – and it better be a damn good one – they’d talk (argue) about it tomorrow. He still had a fun night, and he’d go to bed with that in mind and deal with what he assumed would be a gigabyte worth of sorry texts from Stan in the morning, knowing him.
--
Kyle slept in until the sun peeking through his curtains slowly roused him from his slumber. He stretched and reached for his phone before dropping his arms and slouching. Still nothing from Stanley. His relaxed peace from waking up was quickly replaced with annoyance again. Kyle left his room, not bothering to get dressed on this lazy Saturday, but paused on his way to the bathroom. Down the stairs, he could hear ugly, aggressive crying. He quickly rushed down the steps.
“Ma?” Kyle asked, nerves heightened. He hadn’t heard his mother cry like that in years. A whirlwind of emotions swept through him – anxiety, determination, anger – but nothing compared to the chill that ran through his veins as he reached the kitchen doorway.
His mother and father were sitting there, Gerald with an arm around his mom and Sheila with her elbows on the table, leaning into her hands that covered her mouth to muffle her erratic breathing and catch her tears. Ike was sitting in the living room, stiff and quiet, staring at Kyle with wide, lost eyes. But what caught his attention was that it wasn’t his mother that he heard upstairs.
The Marshs sat across from his parents, Randy with his head in his hands and grasping at his hair, and Sharon loudly sobbing and blowing into tissues, collecting a pile beside her.
Everyone turned to him. He didn’t care, though; there was only one question on his mind.
“Where’s Stan?”
He only got some broken sobs as a response as Sharon put her head down on the table.
“Where’s Stan?” Kyle asked again, much more shaky.
--
Snow softly fell, sticking to the already covered ground. It crunched lightly as pairs of feet walked through the forest by Stark's Pond. Butters shivered as they walked past the water and up the hill, but it was unclear if it was due to the cold or the situation. Kenny wrapped an arm around his waist as they continued forward. They stopped in front of a small clearing where the snow was agitated from all the recent attention.
Kenny looked down in front of him, scanning the white police tape and tainted red snow. He held onto Butters tighter as the blond moved his head into his neck, unable to look.
“How long have you been sitting out here?” Kenny softly asked the only other soul in sight, seated in front of the police tape.
Kyle remained fixated on the space before him, kneeling right at the edge of the outline. “I don’t know,” he whispered, voice barely audible.
Kenny could tell it had been a while, at least an hour or two based on the snow piling on his hat and jacket he threw on over his pajamas.
“...News spread fast. Nobody knows more than who it was and that… he,” Kenny tried to swallow the lump in his throat, “did it himself.”
Kyle closed his eyes. Kenny deserved the explanation. “Apparently it was sometime last night. There was a note on his phone describing how he couldn’t let everyone waste more energy on him. That it was for the better.”
Kenny walked up so he could see Kyle’s face. His eyes were dull, glazed over, and empty.
“His family keeps some guns for safety and one went missing a few weeks ago; everyone assumed Randy lost it since he got drunk the night before – wouldn’t be the first time – but apparently Stan took it. Last night, he brought it here.”
Snow continued to fall, covering up the proof that anything even happened there.
“Why here?” Butters choked out.
Kyle finally brought his gaze up from the ground and looked at the tree in front of him. He blinked, and a small, somber smile formed on his lips as he looked at the heart engraving on it. “I know this place.”
The others turned to look at Kyle, then where he was staring.
“When we were kids, we were playing around. Stan was running and tripped, scraping the shit out of his shoulder when he collided with this tree. I was more concerned about his arm, but he was too focused on the piece of bark he broke off, leaving a big hole in the tree. He tried to put it back, but it kept falling off, so he used his pocket knife to scrape at it until it stayed. When he was done, it looked kind of like a heart, and we laughed and wondered if any dumb, cringey couples would come across it and put their initials on it.
“Turns out one did. Us, years later when we got together.” Kyle reached up and lightly let his fingers graze the carved ‘S.’ next to the ‘+K.’ “It’s our place. Our tree.” His smile fell as he traced the letter over and over.
“I was mad at him, last night. For not showing up. Not texting back… I was mad at him, while he was ending his own life.” The snow under Kyle melted as tears dripped down. “I could have saved him, but I was too busy being selfish.”
“It’s not your fault, Kyle,” Kenny tried to reassure.
“All week, he was hurting, all month, maybe all year, but I was too fucking busy doing what? Stupid backup applications that I’ll end up tossing?” Kyle clenched his fist, not caring about the bark scratching his skin. “He was hurting and I let him! He’s dead because of-!”
“Kyle, no!” Kenny asserted. “We all saw it and didn’t act. Not just you.”
Kyle let himself fall forward until his forehead was also resting against the tree, next to his hand. “He can’t be gone,” he let out in a broken voice. “I need him. Please…” He choked on another sob. “I keep looking at my phone, waiting for his name to pop up. Looking behind me expecting to hear him tell me to wait up for him. I can’t live without him, Ken.”
Kenny got on the ground by Kyle and removed him from the tree, hugging him tightly. He rested his cheek on the top of Kyle's head, letting his silent tears fall freely.
Kyle held onto his arms for dear life. “I miss him,” he mumbled into his shoulder. “I miss him so much.”
“I do too,” Kenny said, voice cracking.
Butters walked over to Kyle’s other side and hugged him hard, crying onto his back.
They sat there in their huddle for who knows how long, staying even after they had no more tears left in their body to shed. Other friends and acquaintances came by to share their respects. Some left flowers by the base of the tree, and some joined in their huddle for a while. Kenny and Butters eventually left when Butters’ parents grounded him for being gone so long, and Kenny most likely told Kyle’s parents he was still by the tree. They picked Kyle up easily with him having no strength to fight back, and took him back home as the sun was setting. He skipped dinner despite his family trying to convince him to eat something since he hadn't eaten all day.
He went upstairs to his room and sank into his desk chair. His gaze flitted over all the scattered papers before he swept them off his desk with no care where they landed. With trembling hands, he picked up the picture on the edge of his desk; Kyle was holding up the camera with a big, bright smile on his face, giggling as Stan hugged his waist and kissed his cheek.
Kyle’s teeth clenched as he choked back another sob. He clutched the frame tightly, curling into himself. He stayed like that, hunched over his desk and mumbling broken “I’m so sorrys” until exhaustion overtook him.
----
Kyle’s heavy eyes opened at the blaring sound of his alarm. He stared at it as it continued to yell, wondering why it was going off during the weekend. Must have hit the wrong button or something and reset the settings. He reached his arm out from under his warm covers and lightly pressed the button to turn it off. He put his arm back under the covers and curled his legs up. His parents must have come in after he passed out and put him in his bed. He was a little surprised his back wasn’t even the slightest bit sore, but he didn’t have the brain power to focus on that. He brought his hand up to clench his hair and tried not to cry, at least too loud.
Kyle jumped at the loud slam of his door being forced open. He opened his eyes and saw Ike walking in.
“I’m stealing your TV remote.”
Kyle looked at him, still on his side, confused. How was Ike not the slightest bit sad? He was before.
Ike looked at him, frown deepening. “What are you still doing in bed? Mom’s gonna get pissed if you’re late.”
“Late to what?”
“Where else, dumbass, school!” Ike’s voice softened as he looked at Kyle. “Are you okay? It’s not like you to snooze your alarm.”
“...Isn’t it Sunday?”
Ike gave him a face like he just grew a second head. “No, it’s Thursday.”