Work Text:
It all happened so fast. It ended too soon. A moment that didn't feel real. It was a nightmare. The worst kind that felt way too realistic.
Fifteen year old Stanley Marsh was pronounced dead at 2:17 am on February 19th.
Kyle arrived at the hospital in his pajamas to find Stan's family hysterical. His stomach dropped and he stopped in his tracks to read the air. He knew it was over. That his best friend was already dead and there was nothing he could do now.
"I'm sorry Kyle…" Sharon whispered, her voice shaking.
At that moment time broke. Kyle felt his mom grab his shoulder and the next thing he knew, he was in the car again, looking at the streets of South Park as they went by in slow motion.
Where was the point of no return?
Sleepless nights ensue and Kyle feels like a zombie. He walks around school, doing every task like a robot. He doesn't remember a thing from that day's lecture. He doesn't even remember reading the chapter the teacher assigned for the class. The letters on the page looked like any other language but English and it drove him crazy and gave him a migraine.
The hallways were silent and too long. Kyle felt a million curious eyes on him, looking at him like he was supposed to know something but he ignored the stares and sat down with his remaining friend group.
Even Cartman who usually would rip on him was dead silent. Kyle could see the pain in his eyes but he didn't really register it. He leaned his head against Kenny's shoulder. The scent of cigarettes made Kyle remember the first time he caught Stan and Kenny smoking in 6th grade. He had been so pissed but ended up joining after bitching about it for a few days. The grin on Stan's face was unforgettable. It really annoyed Kyle at the time but now it's just a pleasant memory. A memory that he wants to hold onto like a warm blanket on a cold winter night.
Kyle and Stan used to have sleepovers on nights like those and they would share a blanket sometimes. Stan's bed smelled like the deodorant he was always wearing. It was good. It felt safe. It was gonna be there till the end of time until it wasn't and all Kyle's clothes started to smell untouched again.
Kyle wanted to sleep in Stan's bed one more time. He wanted to watch stupid romcoms and play violent video games like they used to. Laughing together like everything was okay. Like everything wasn't falling apart.
At Stan's funeral was the first time Kyle realized that Stan had been laughing less for the past year. It was like life was fading from his eyes slowly but surely. It was so silent. Blue, like Stan's eyes once were.
Watching his best friend being lowered into his grave, made Kyle regret all the times he wasn't there. All the times he gave up on Stan because he got frustrated and angry. He was always so sure that Stan could pull himself back together. He didn't know he was in danger. If he knew he was, he would've done something. He could've tried.
Why didn't you talk to me?
After the shock, only numbness remained. The numbness was masked by anger so Kyle could feel a sense of normalcy. He got angry about every little thing but deep down he knew he was only mad at himself. He didn't have the right to push all his negative feelings onto his friends and family but he did anyway, knowing it was wrong, knowing it caused them more pain. Maybe this was why he was so hard to talk to. Kyle's tendency to snap at people and to invalidate their feelings would make a sensitive soul like Stan hesitant.
Kyle felt sick to his stomach. His heart ached. Every inch of his body was hurting like all his bones were broken.
It was my fault...I'm the worst friend in the world...
The smell of lemon-scented air freshener was overpowered by the acidic smell of vomit. Kyle was sitting on the bathroom floor out of his fucking mind. He opened his eyes and chuckled a bit. As bad as it sounds, the throw-up reminds him of Stan and how that boy used to be so gross. It sparked the memories of shy, drunken kisses they shared during a Halloween party just last year. To think that just four months later he wouldn’t be here to give Kyle that same gaze of trust and admiration. It was absurd and even after weeks of mourning it still didn’t feel real.
In a way, it was a peaceful moment when Kyle was resting his head against the toilet. After a moment he lied down on the floor. Closing his eyes slowly, Kyle keeps his eyes on the bright light above him. It was warm. Yellow. Almost white like heaven and that's exactly where Kyle wanted to be.