Will you be mine, dude?

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I'm back! c:

Narrator

The anguish in Kyle's chest seemed to have no end, his mind was blank... he had decided to stop fighting and simply give in to the whims of fate. He didn't know how much time had passed or what time it was, he could only feel Stan's body in his arms. It seemed impossible to conceive the fact that his super best friend, the one who always supported and defended him, with whom he had had fights and hard times, with whom he had laughed and cried, with whom he had had an altercation that very night, was lying unconscious on the floor.

Ironies of fate, right? The potential victimizer of the night became the victim.

Kyle was aware of the atrocities that Stan intended to do to him, but even so, his love for his best friend had made him run to him and take him in his arms. But just as destiny not only takes... it also gives. 

Kyle's crying was interrupted by small groans of pain. 

Kyle's POV 

"agh... my.... h-head" groaned Stan, abruptly pulling me out of the bottomless pit I found myself in. Listening to his voice was like drinking a bottle of water in the driest desert on the planet. 

Desperate, but trying to hold back the panic, I spoke to him to keep him awake.

"Stan! Stan? Do you hear me? It's Kyle!" I told him softly, so as not  to scare him.  

"Ky..." He answered as he opened his eyes. Instinctively, he brought his right hand to his forehead, and with his left he squeezed my hand that was resting on his chest. "Ky... forgive me"

I couldn't hold my tears back anymore. I helped him straighten up to sit on the floor leaning his back against the wall.

"...forgive me..." He kept repeating over and over again as he cried uncontrollably. "...please".

"Stan, calm down, don't move... look at me, stay with me, take a deep breath..." I got closer to him and removed his hand from his forehead. The blood came out from several cuts and wounds he had in that area of his face. A chill ran down my spine. 

It's a miracle he didn't break his neck. Just thinking about it forced me to pull myself together and take action. 

I got up and quickly went to the kitchen to get some washcloth. After getting it damp, I went back to Stan, placed the cloth on his wound and applied pressure to temporarily stop the bleeding. Then I took his hand and placed it on the cloth so that he himself would hold it in place. Next, I ran upstairs to get my phone and call an ambulance to take him t the hospital. 

My second call was  Kenny, to whom I told about Stan's accident through tears and sobs, omitting what had happened earlier in my room for obvious reasons. The blond confirmed that he would immediately be off to the hospital to meet us there. 

During the ride in the ambulance, Stan kept repeating over and over the same words that refused to leave his lips: "Forgive me"

At the hospital.

I saw Kenny as soon as we got out of the ambulance. He came to us quickly and gave me a firm, warm hug while trying to tell me everything would be just fine. 
I felt protected and relieved in his arms, and I couldn't help but let out the last tears I had left. 

Two paramedics took Stan to the emergency room while a third paramedic asked me about the accident; what had happened, HOW it happened and so on. He also needed Stan's personal information in order to contact any of his relatives.