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“Dude, I’m not gonna let you in” Kyle shouted out his semi opened window “Go home, I didn’t steal your fucking diary!”
Kyle had woken up in the middle of the night to the sound of something rustling in his treetops. Almost as if on unconscious autopilot, he’d thrown himself to the window and pulled the bar down, making it impossible to fully open from outside. The tree’s movement halted to a stop, instead making way for hushed cursing.
Now Kyle had to stand by his window looking down at the pathetic creature that had reluctantly climbed out of its hide. Kyle thought he’d at least leave once he’d been noticed. But the boy had only sat down in the snow stubbornly. In the snow… in his pajamas and cardigan. How stupid could one manchild get?
“If you’re trying to guilt me into letting you in it’s not working,” He continued “You live 5 minutes away from here, just go home!”
“Nuh-uh!” He shouted back, the first ‘word’ he’d uttered to the other. “You’re not fooling me that easily, you sneaky thief”
“Fine! Freeze to death then. I don’t care,” He started closing the window fully “God, he’s so childish” He muttered as he made his way back to bed, before he remembered to disclose one last thing, turning back to the window. “And it’s no use waiting ‘till I fall asleep either. The window stays locked,”
“Fuck you, Kahl!”
“Go home!”
He trotted back to bed and dove in headfirst. After a while of tossing and turning and nuzzling his cheek into the pillow he finally fell asleep. It was a Friday night so he couldn’t be too mad at Cartman interrupting his sleep.
Kyle woke up by the warm sunlight dancing across his face. He scrunched up his eyes and tried his best to shield them with the palm of his hand and the thick duvet. But the damage was already done, he could feel himself gaining consciousness.
Right, he’d forgotten to pull the blinds down last night… A shame really, he wasn’t keen on getting up at 7 am when Cartman had kept him up way past midnight; and now that same man was at fault for his early rise.
About Cartman… He couldn’t be- Right? Kyle cursed his curiosity, and maybe slight worry, as he dragged his stiff limbs back to the frost-tinted window. It was cool to the touch, even from inside. Kyle had to admit he had been anxious about his idiotic friend possibly getting pneumonia from the time he’d spent sulking in the snow. It was a feeling that brought forth a sense of déjà vu.
His eyes travelled down to his yard and widened in distress at the sight. Cartman was, presumably…, sleeping in the snow. A thin layer of ice crystals covering his deathly still, pale body and reddened face, making him look like a corpse.
All of Kyle’s hatred for the man thrown to the side, he ran out of his room, down the stairs and out into the cold snow as fast as he could. He was barefoot, and the ice burned his soles. It couldn’t be more than 5 degrees Celsius… But his beating heart and ragged breathing kept him distracted enough to ignore the pain.
Cartman was alive. Passed out in deep sleep, but alive. Evident by the struggling pulse from his neck. Kyle had never before been so thankful for the man’s large stature. Sure, it made him way harder to carry into the warmth, but the fat had also heated up his body well enough to survive the night. Besides, Kyle had dragged the unconscious man all the way from the park to his house before, dragging him a few metres up into his own room was no challenge.
Once inside he plopped Cartman onto his bed, covering him with the comforter and every blanket he could find, even a few clothes. Kyle’s own face mirrored the unnatural blush spread across Cartman’s. He let the sunlight shine on Cartman’s limp body as he tried his best to dry him off. He needed to get the man out of his damp clothes, but there was no way in hell that Kyle would change them. He ended up stripping him down to his underwear however. This was a matter of life and death after all.
“God you’re such a fucking moron!” He muttered frantically and sat down on the bed next to Cartman’s legs. His heart hadn’t slowed down and he was starting to think he’d be the one to die. Of a heart attack. “I hate you, I hate you so much. You selfish fuck! This is the fourth time I’ve saved your ass. Are you fucking suicidal or something?!” He threw down his arms on the bed before placing his elbows on his knees. He leaned down his head and grasped at his frizzy strands.
“I’ve saved yours twice, you asshole” Answered Cartman weakly behind him. He coughed and tried to sit up, but was shaking too much. Instead he slowly opened his eyes and glared at Kyle’s shocked face and gaping mouth. “I saved your whole fucking Jew family’s”
“T-twice?” he sputtered out. His breath hitched hysterically. After holding your lifelong friend’s cold, lifeless body in your arms it was hard to resume casual conversation. Although this wasn’t quite that. When the hell had Cartman saved him? He remembered seeing Cartman by his side as he came to after he’d been killed by manbearpig. So it was possible that he’d been the one to save him then. But when had he saved him the second time and better yet, when had he saved his family?? “When?”
Cartman seemed to regret his words. He cleared his throat and looked off to the side as if that’d get Kyle to drop it. The only thing he managed to do was send himself into a cough attack. Kyle could feel his body’s heavy vibrations from where he sat, a worried frown unconsciously forming.
“Cartman,” He warned “When?”
“I counted them wrong. I meant to say once'' He looked at Kyle’s doubtful face and wilted slightly. Usually, he was a master of lies and manipulation. He could slither himself out of any situation, except some with Kyle who could somehow see right through him. Now, he was a cold sweating, shaking, snivelling, feaverish mess.
“So did you, apparently!” Cartman tried “You only saved me when we were drowning, and from that jersey freak. That would make this the third time, Kahl”
The tables had turned. Kyle was the one at a loss for words now. He shifted and turned his gaze back to the rest of the room.
“I was the one who saved you from freezing to death that passover, dumbass,” He sighed “Not Moses, or some guardian angel. Me. Just like how I saved you now” He stood up.
“Wha- but why? How? You left me!”
“I came back while you were passed out. I couldn’t sleep… I felt guilty,” He turned around with a small smirk “You know, I actually have a conscience. I won’t sit back and watch people die, no matter who they are” He took a few steps until he stood in the doorway, facing Cartman’s half lidded eyes once again.
“I’ll go make you some warm chicken broth and something to drink, alright? When I come back I want to hear about you saving my family. You owe me as much” and thus he turned on his tail and marched down to the kitchen.
Eric Cartman could only lay there and wait. He felt like absolute shit. He hadn’t actually intended to stay the night in the snow, he wasn’t that stupid. But the frosty, stinging air had lulled him into a comatose slumber. And now his nose wouldn’t stop leaking snot, and his eyes wouldn’t stop watering. And he wouldn’t stop shivering and his teeth wouldn’t stop chattering. His head felt like it was split open and he couldn’t focus on anything other than the pain and Kyle. And now Kyle was gone. He groaned and tried to sit up again, but it was hopeless.
“Stop doing that,” Said Kyle sternly as he walked in with a tray. It contained a steaming bowl of chicken broth, as well as an equally hot cup of cocoa; even a cheese sandwich, since Kyle knew the portions Cartman was used to. Cartman felt the urge to throw himself at it and bathe in the hot contents.
Once Kyle reached his bedside, he placed the tray on the nightstand and sat down on his usual spot next to Cartman’s covered legs. He studied his reddened face and reluctantly reached out the back of his hand. Cartman’s forehead was scorching, a fever no doubt.
“Let me dab some of that sweat and snot away,” he said with a saddened sigh, reaching to grab the towels from before. He disappeared behind the door once again only to return with fresher towels and a bowl of hot water. “A warm towel on your head or over the eyes might help with the headache and stuffy ness. Though you should probably only place it over your forehead now so you can eat.”
“Yeah but I can’t eat if I don’t sit up,” he deadpanned. Kyle frowned in response and shook his head in complaint, yet helped raise Cartman’s upper body. He wasn’t sitting, per say, but the thick pillows kept his neck up far enough that he wouldn’t choke. Cartman shakely fed himself and almost melted at the savoury taste. His throat and chest warmed up from the inside out and he couldn’t help but grin. “Thanks…” He muttered.
“Yeah, yeah, don’t mention it,” Kyle was busy at work dampening the white towel. He dabbed Cartman’s humid forehead while he ate. He could feel his cheeks heating up as Cartman shivered under the touch, leaning in slightly and almost moaning as he gulped down the toasty chocolate.
Here Kyle was spending his early Saturday morning taking care of his ill, asshole friend who seemed to be in a world of comfort. The fat bastard looked like a spoiled Egyptian cat getting worshipped like a god. Yet Kyle couldn’t stop what he was doing, he still pitied the boy and felt strangely guilty. Fuck Cartman’s manipulative ass for once again making HIM feel guilty about Cartman’s own idiotic actions.
He placed one towel on Cartman’s forehead, while he finished cleaning him up with another. He brushed under his nose and lips, dabbing softly at the corners, well aware that Cartman’s eyes were on him. He suddenly remembered something.
“Don’t think I forgot, Cartman,” the other froze.
“Forgot what?”
“Oh don’t act stupid… stupider” Cartman only laughed. “Tell me”
“Alright.” he groaned in defeat, throwing his head back. “So first off, I tried to save you from those P.C. people, but you did alright on your own. But also… Remember when your family got all full of themselves and moved to San fucking Frisco?”
“Yeah…?” This couldn’t be going where he thought it was going.
“Well I risked mah life to come save your family’s sorry asses, you’re welcome!” His cheeks were all puffed out and he kept breathing out in embarrassment, doing anything but meeting Kyle’s stare. Kyle knew he was telling the truth, because the reluctance to share that information was definitely real. “I think we’re even now” he pulled up the comforter until it reached his double chin.
“Why?” Kyle could only ask with furrowed brows. He truly couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Sure he’d thought a lot about how the whole thing played out. He was religious, but he wasn’t one to believe in such unexplained miracles. So Kyle had sorted through a million possibilities of what might’ve happened. But never had the possibility that Cartman did it, out of all the people in South Park, crossed his mind.
“Because you’ve saved my life more times, but I’ve saved your whole family so… that makes us even”
“No, not that,” He facepalmed “Why did you save us?”
“Oh. When you left I had no one to spar with,” He answered honestly “It was boring to not have someone as self righteous as you to tear down. I tried Butters, but he just stood there and took it. He wasn’t blood boiling in the way you are” Cartman’s blood felt like it was boiling right now, but not out of anger.
“But you were happy to see me leave, you threw a party!” Stan had told him about the party. Kyle knew Cartman hated him, and he hated Cartman back, but he couldn’t help but frown at the memory. How even as Cartman saw him leave for real, he celebrated. Showing that he truly didn’t care about his friend at all. At least that’s what Kyle had thought.
“Yeah and I was… but I guess I was wrong, alright?!” He finished his broth and sank down into the pillow once again. He looked at Kyle with tired eyes and felt so unbelievably small. Yet he couldn’t help but smile at Kyle’s utter confusion. His fever made him feel delirious.
“Then why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you ridicule me or hold it against me, blackmail me, or tease my ‘stuck up ass’ about getting high off lsd? Why didn’t you ask me for a favour in return, or tell the town so you’d get a fucking reward or something?” Kyle’s head kept spinning in questions, all of them starting with ‘why’. The biggest question on his mind was why Cartman had been prepared to risk his own life to save the man he supposedly hated with all his heart.
Cartman chuckled at Kyle’s freak out and shakily lifted up his hand to drop it over Kyle’s. Kyle immediately snapped his face to look at him with wide eyes and a slightly open jaw. Cartman laughed even more at that, squeezing the soft, incredibly warm hand under his and soaking up the body heat.
“Calm down,” He said. He looked slightly high with his eyes all droopy, red and watery. Maybe he was kind of high from the leftover adrenaline that had kept him alive. Though he somehow knew he wouldn’t let go of Kyle’s hand even in a sober state.
Kyle finally seemed to do just that, calm down. He still looked confused, as if their whole dynamic had budged. As if Cartman had told him his deepest, darkest secret. And maybe that was true. The dark actions of Cartman’s past were no secret, but the genuine love for his friends and his mom went unnoticed and buried deep inside him. His genuine fascination and interest in Kyle, so far down that not even Cartman had the keys to open that valve. But now it seemed that Kyle could look right through the keyhole.
Kyle chuckled dumbfoundedly to himself and removed the lukewarm towel to check Cartman’s temperature again. Cartman shuddered once the towel was removed, but went still at the touch of Kyle’s hand. Kyle kept it there for a while, seemingly forgetting to remove it and instead absentmindedly stroking the short, brown hair. Cartman didn’t complain, he instead found himself imitating Mr Kitty getting her furry head stroked.
“Alright!” Kyle patted his legs, finally coming to. “We both should get some rest. We only slept for four hours after all, and *you* need at least ten today.” He fluffed up Cartman’s pillows and tucked him in under the comforter and mountain of blankets. He then made sure to close the blinds and pull down the roller shade. Finally he grabbed the empty tray, all of the towels and the bucket of water but made sure to leave an empty bucket by Cartman’s bedside if he felt the need to puke, and a box of tissues. “Goodnight,” he said as he turned the lights off.
“Where are you going?” Protested a hoarse voice in the dark.
“Uh, the couch?” He turned the light on again to see Cartman pouting at him with furrowed eyebrows. Like an angry toddler.
“Do you want me to freeze to death?!”
“Huh- What? I’ve already covered you in everything I own! I won’t even have a blanket of my own to sleep with” He knows his friend has almost died from hypothermia, but there was no way he wasn’t warmed up by the ridiculous pile of fabric resting over his body. Especially not with the radiator set on max. Kyle himself was sweating like crazy, matching Cartman’s feverish face.
“Well it’s not enough!” sulked Cartman, Kyle could only stare at him in disbelief.
“What do you want me to do about it?”
“I read somewhere,” he said with that annoying, ‘innocent’ voice he uses whenever he asks for a favour or talks to Kyle’s parents. “that the best way to warm someone with hypothermia is using your own body heat…”
“So you want me to-?” Kyle couldn’t believe his ears.
“Yes, Kahl,” He puffed out.
“I- uh… sure.” His whole body flustered… probably at just the thought of laying beneath all those warm blankets. “Just let me put all this stuff away,”
When Kyle came back he was met with a grinning Cartman on his phone. At the sound of Kyle’s footsteps he turned around with an unwavering smirk and held up his phone to face Kyle.
“Look, I was right,” He gestures to the phone “And I quote: ‘First aid for hypothermia: Cover the person completely with foil or a space blanket,’ none of which you have nyeh ‘or use your own body heat to help warm him/her. Use warm compresses on the neck, chest, and groin.’”
Kyle stiffened, his heart racing. A tingling in the very depth of his stomach. Did Cartman somehow infect him with the fever? Must have. Cartman only laughed at his expression, lifted up the covers, tapping the empty space and scooting until he touched the wall.
Once in the bed Kyle rested his arm on Cartman’s chest. It wasn’t as bad as one would’ve imagined. After the rocky morning there was no room for awkwardness. And Cartman’s rising and lowering chest felt like that of a big plushie. A plushie with a rhythmic, lulling heartbeat.
The last thing Kyle could register before a wave of unconsciousness hit him was Cartman’s head on his shoulder, strands of silky, mousy hair tickling his neck. Cartman slept soundly against Kyle’s broad chest, his diary long forgotten.