Chapter Text
A year is all it takes for someone to go insane.
Cartman laid in bed studying his ceiling as if it'll solve all his problems, memories and mistakes flooding his mind as the clock ticks. Thousands of "I hate you"s gone unsaid as days go by. As much as he hated it, Cartman always knew he was grateful to have Kyle in his life. He loved having someone to torment, conditioning him to feel the same. To like the torment and endure it, so he thought.
There were no signs, Kyle was his jewish self one day and hanging dead the next. The guilt of pushing and shoving him to this extent ate at him every single day, yet he'd rather do the same than let a single soul know, and how he ended up in a therapist's office the next day was unbeknownst to him.
"Mom I said I was fine, what the fuck are we even doing here?" He snapped, tugging on the collar of his shirt.
Liane sheepishly looked at Dr. Conner. "Honey, you haven't eaten in days... you're all skin and bones. Dr. Conner's here to help with that."
Cartman scoffed at the idea of getting help. Who was she to say that crap? Sure, he's lost weight but it's not like he wasn't still big boned.
"I said I don't need help, especially not from this stereotypical predator over here!" The teen exclaimed while waving his hand towards the therapist.
Dr. Conner let out a chuckle, "I think I've seen all I need to, I'll prescribe some lorazepam to ease his mind. No more than 2mg a day, every other day." He quickly scribbled something on paper, handing it to Liane.
"Oh, thank you doctor. I've just been ever so worried about my poopsikins ever since-"
"NOTHING!" Eric butted in frantically, avoiding the topic as much as he could. The statement raised a brow from the doctor, writing something down in his never ending notebook. "Well... Ms. Cartman you're good to go," He began, standing up and wiping his legs. "You're more than welcome to come back if there's any questions or complications."
"About fucking time..." Cartman mumbled, yanking his mother out of the building with him.