Chapter Text
Kyle pov:
I have barely talked to Stan since he's returned. I wouldn’t say I’m avoiding him, but I’m not going out of my way to see him either. I’ve been using the excuse of work to get out of hanging out with the guys. I do work, just not as often as I say I am. Ever since seeing him again for the first time, I feel anxious. Neither of us bring up what he confessed to me. It feels like I’m walking on eggshells around him. No matter what I say, everything is going to change. I’m still sorting through my feelings about the whole thing. I don’t even know if I like guys…
“Kyle!” I finally get dragged out of my thoughts by Ike’s voice. We’re at the kitchen table where I’m helping him study for finals.
“Sorry,” I rub my face. “What were we looking at?”
Ike looks at me with a mix of disdain and annoyance. “Geometry.”
“Okay,” I look at the problem and I can’t make sense of it. Much like my life right now.
“What’s your problem?” Ike groans. He’s probably going to punch me before the day is done.
“Nothing,” I insist but it doesn’t sound believable. “I just have a lot on my mind.”
Ike rolls his eyes, ever the caring brother. “Well, your gay ass can figure it out later. I have a test tomorrow dammit!”
What did he just say? Gay ass…maybe he knows something I don’t.
“You think I’m gay?” Fuck, that sounds stupid coming out of my mouth. Ike seems to think so too judging by the fact that he’s looking at me like I’m a piece of gum on the bottom of his shoe.
“I don’t know and I don’t care,” Ike says flatly.
“When did you get so mean?” This kid kinda scares me.
“When my brother started asking stupid questions,” Ike retorts.
“Alright, alright,” I once again look at the problem on the page. “You already know all of this, though.”
“One can never be too prepared,” Ike insists.
“I think that's a lie,” I shake my head. “Are your friends this anal about their grades?”
He shakes his head. “Firkle spends most of his time behind the school, Tricia doesn’t give a fuck, and Karen barely comes to school anymore.”
“Oh wow,” This new generation of kids truly do not give a fuck about their futures.
“Yep,” Ike sighs. He sounds annoyed but I can see a flicker of concern in his eyes. He cares about his friends. He wants them to succeed, but you can’t force people to do things they don’t want to.
“Kyle?” My mom yells from the front door.
I roll my eyes. “What, Ma? I’m busy!” My chair scrapes on the floor as I push it back and get up from the table. As I approach the entryway, I hear my mom talking to someone. The voice sounds familiar…I can’t quite place it, though. As I look past my mom, my heart stops. It’s Sharon Marsh. Shit.
“Stan left,” She cuts to the chase. “I don’t know where he went, but I know there’s a good chance he’s here.” She looks exhausted. Like she hasn’t slept in days. Her eyes are red from crying.
“He left?” I feign innocence. I feel guilty about lying considering how distraught she seems. “I haven’t heard from him in awhile…”
Sharon’s shoulders slump. “You haven’t?”
I shake my head. “I’ll try to get a hold of him, though. And keep an eye out for him,” I have to call him. I have to let him know his mom is looking for him. “I have to finish helping Ike with some studying. We’ll find him, Sharon.” With a weak smile I run upstairs, diving for my phone. I tap on Cartman’s contact, the phone dialing his number.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“What?” Cartman picks up the phone with his usual social grace.
“Sharon is here,” I say quickly.
“Huh?” Cartman sounds confused, then he seems to have been processed. “Shit, really?”
“Yes, dude!”
“I thought we’d have had longer,” Cartman mutters. “Alright, I’ll handle it.” With that he hangs up.
“You’re welcome,” I mutter, tossing my phone on the bed.
“Stan’s in South Park, Isn’t he?” Ike’s voice startles me. Turning to him, I see him standing in my doorway.
“W-what?” I stutter. “Of course not! Why would he be?”
“To get away from his mom, duh,” Ike rolls his eyes.
“Nah, he isn’t here,” I wave him off.
“Why else would you call Cartman randomly?” Ike crosses his arms, once again looking at me like I’m stupid.
“None of your business!”
“I don’t care if he is,” Ike says. “I’m not a snitch.”
I can tell he already knows the answer, but I’m not going to tell him.
“Fuck off,” I mumble.
Ike just rolls his eyes, before heading to his room.
I feel the need to go to Stan. To shield him from whatever he is running from. I have always had this need since we were kids. The need to protect him.
‘I’m coming over’ I shoot a quick text to Cartman before pulling on my shoes and heading out of my house.
******
The door opens revealing Cartman.
“Why are you here?” He asks.
I don’t really have an answer for him, so I push past him into the apartment. I find Stan and Karen, lounging on the couch with blank expressions. Stan’s eyes glance towards me before he seems to liven up.
“Kyle?” He says.
“Hey dude,” I greet him. “How’s it going?”
Stan shrugs. “Fine, I guess.”
“His mom probably wouldn’t think to look here,” Cartman says. “But if so, we don’t got no snitches.” He turns to me, eyes narrowed. “Right, Jew?”
“Of course not!” I scoff.
“Did my mom seem okay?” Stan speaks up.
I look over at him. His eyes look at me pleading me to tell them everything is okay. But I can’t lie to him.
“She looked tired and upset,” I admit.
I see him deflate a bit. “I feel bad…But if I go back there I’ll ki-”
He’s cut off by Kenny coming in. “Gangs all here!” He says cheerfully.
“So, Ms. Sharon came to town,” Kenny says. “What are we going to do?”
“Hide?” Stan says.
“Well, yeah, can’t have this bleached blond bitch wandering around town.”
“Don’t ever call me that again,” Stan has an incredulous and almost disgusted look on his face.
“Alright, Baby girl!”
Karen chuckles at that.
“She’s going to everyone’s house to see if anyone knows anything,” I tell him.
“Couldn’t she have just called?” Kenny asks.
“She wants to search for him too, Dipshit,” Cartman rolls his eyes.
“Oh, I guess that makes sense,” Kenny then lights up, that look on his face that says he just had either a really good or really bad idea. “Why stay cramped up here when we can take a road trip?!”
We all stare at him, caught off guard by the abrupt change in conversation.
“What?” Cartman finally says.
“A road trip! We rent a car, take some tents and just go where the wind takes us,” Kenny explains. “I think we all could use a break. Some time to just chill. Discover new things.”
It’s not a bad idea. Stan wouldn’t have to hide in a different state.
“I think that sounds fun,” Stan is the first to speak. If he’s in, I’m in. This may be an opportunity to make him more like himself again.
“I’m in,” I say.
Cartman looks a little indecisive.
“Pleeeaaassseeee,” Kenny hangs off his shoulder and pouts a little.
He looks flustered, glancing anywhere but at Kenny with his face lightly flushed. “Fine, now get off me!” He shoves Kenny off of him.
“Woo-Hoo!” Kenny cheers, dancing around. He’s very hyper today. It’s nice that he’s so full of life, though. We could use that in our depressing little group.
“Can I come too?” Karen speaks up. .
“I’m cool with it,” Kenny looks at us to see our replies. We all just nod. For the first time in a while I see Karen smile.
“Kyle, bring Ike too,” Kenny says.
Ugh. A road trip with my rude ass little brother sounds like absolute torture. He is Karen’s best friend, though. And maybe since she’s there he won’t be such a smart ass.
“I’ll talk to him,” That answer seems to satisfy him.
Once again, the door opens and Kevin steps in. His heavy work boots are caked in mud.
“Jesus fucking christ,” He mutters. “Everytime I come home, there’s more people in my goddamn apartment.” He moves past us and I cringe as he walks through the place in his muddy boots.
“Karen, how was school?” Kevin calls from his room where he’s assumedly changing.
“Fine,” She replies.
“Learn anything?”
“Nope.”
“Kev, you wanna come on our roadtrip?!” Kenny calls to him. Kevin returns dressed in a plain t-shirt and jeans. Now in place of the muddy boots is his bare feet. I don’t know which I prefer.
“Roadtrip?” He raises an eyebrow.
“Yeah, we’re all going,” He gestures around the room. “And plus, maybe Ike.”
“You haven’t had a vacation like…ever,” Karen points out. “You work really hard. You should take some time for fun.”
Kevin is silent. He rubs a hand over his face as he thinks, finally nodding.
“I’ll see if I can get pto,” He says.
“Yeah!” Kenny dances around excitedly.
Kevin narrows his eyes at Kenny. “You takin’ your meds, Ken?”
“Geez, can’t a guy be happy without people accusing him of being manic,” Kenny groans.
“Yes or no?” Kevin persists.
“Yes. Yes I took my meds,” Kevin nods, still looking a little uncertain. He shrugs, walking to the fridge and grabbing a beer.
Shit.
I look at Stan. How’s his alcohol situation? Fuck, I’m a shit friend. I haven’t even asked. We all kinda dance around the subject. He doesn’t seem bothered. I hope that’s a good sign.