Love is Abuse (Kyle x Cartman)

Part 12

A light, chilly drizzle of icy rain fell over the melting snow as Cartman paid the taxi driver and got out of the back seat at about 6:45 pm that Saturday. As the taxi pulled out of the driveway, Cartman hesitantly paced up to the front door, painfully noticing his mom's parked sudan. By the amount of ice accumulated on the windows of the car, Cartman suspected she hadn't been out of the house in a day or two. Dizzying thoughts ran through his mind as to what she would say to him when he would walk through the door. Surely, Kyle's mother (who he gladly hadn't run into yet) or one of his friends had called Liane and informed her of what happened. For the first time in years, excluding the accident, Cartman's heart thudded with worry.

With a lowered head and damp hair frosted with snow, Cartman gravely opened the door and stepped into the living room. Everything he scanned his eyes around looked dead and the atmosphere felt dreamlike but in a suspenseful way. In a split second, his mother came bustling through the kitchen archway running toward him. He squinted his eyes and flinched, but the punishment never came. Instead, his mother wrapped her thin, frail arms around Cartman's plump body and lightly cried into his chest.

"Mom?" he reacted, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

She lifted her head over his shoulder and sniffled, "Are you okay? I'm so glad you're safe. I was terrified."

"Mom, I'm fine..."

She continued embracing him.

"Um," Cartman started. "I'm sorry about Kyle, and... I'm sorry about everything."

Liane let go of him and quickly looked him in the eye before looking down at the floor. "After I heard about Kyle I began worrying about you. You hadn't come home or anything and I was scared."

"I'm sorry," he repeated. After a pause of silence, he stated, "My car is wrecked too."

She nodded with a frown. Cartman didn't know what else to say and honestly did not possess the energy to interact with anybody at the moment.

Cartman began trudging upstairs with a sheen of tears forming in his tired eyes. He thought about Kyle and how the only person he'd ever have any emotional attachment to would be spending his days in a hospital while he slept in his own bed, all because of something he did. Guilt churned in his stomach just thinking of Kyle.

But, as Cartman now lay in his bed, he thought comforting thoughts as well. The sweet memory of Kyle's kiss passed through his mind. Now more than ever he wanted to run his hands through Kyle's thick red hair and hold his body close to him.

For another hour, Cartman thought of nothing else and no one else except Kyle and shed a few heavy tears before dozing off to sleep.

The next morning, the light rain continued pattering on Cartman's windowsill right above his bed. The sound resonated pleasantly in his ears. A sense of relief flowed through him as he realized it was Sunday (as if he would have gone to school that day anyway). As he sat up straight against the headboard, he felt dizzy. He looked out of the window, which was mostly covered by the closed blinds, and in between the spots of white that fuzzed around his head, he noticed a bright red liquid trickling towards the bottom of the windowsill.

Blood was the first thing that crossed his mind, even though it would seem out of place. Cartman had no desire to see blood after what he and Kyle had been through. But as Cartman squinted and approached the window, he noticed the texture was definitely not one of blood but of something thicker.

As he yanked the blinds up, his heart froze and his eyes widened while he simply stood in disbelief.

Sloppily smeared across the entire length of the outside of his bedroom window read the single petrifying word: fag.

Cartman almost did not believe what he was witnessing. As it finally registered in his groggy mind, his heart pounded against his ribs as menacing questions began rambling through his mind. It wasn't the word that bothered him, it was the act. Somehow, whoever did this would had to have climbed all the way up to the second story just to get there. And the only people who knew about Cartman and Kyle's relationship were Kenny and Stan.

Cartman's increasing fury immediately was directed towards Stan. Although it seemed unlikely that someone as calm as Stan would commit something this childish and heartless, he was the only one who knew about them besides Kenny. But as desperately as Cartman wanted to blame somebody, he wholeheartedly knew that it was not Stan. However, he did have his suspicions as to whether or not he told anyone.

With that, Cartman hastily changed into a a t-shirt and jeans. As he sped outside the door, he slipped on his jacket and his hat, pulling both tighter as he marched outside into the frigid morning air. To avoid waking and worrying his mother, he closed the door gently even when he felt like slamming it hard enough to make the hinges snap off.

He steadily stomped through the icy driveway and made his way down the side walk towards Stan's house. Even though it was only about 7:30 in the morning, Cartman was determined to get to the bottom of this and eliminate whatever was supposedly going around about their relationship. The more it crossed his mind, the more stressed he became when he thought of everybody knowing. And if everyone knew, that would mean word would get around to his mom or even worse: Kyle's parents. Cartman was essentially afraid for Kyle.

As the bitter air nipped at Cartman's exposed, chubby neck, he shivered slightly while walking up to Stan's driveway. He stopped in his tracks and decided not to ring the doorbell so he wouldn't attract the attention of Stan's parents. He leaned against a car in the driveway and dialed Stan's number on his phone.

After a few rings, Stan sleepily answered, "Cartman? It's 7 in the morning."

"Can you come outside?" he demanded, forcing some authority into his voice so he would not sound as fearful as he was.

"What's wrong?"

"Just come out. I need to talk to you."

After a pause, Stan groaned, "Fine. Hold on."

After 5 long minutes, Stan sneaked out the front door in jeans and a light coat. His black hair was sprawled in various directions-a sure sign that he had just woken up.

"What's this about?" he asked Cartman, irritated, as he squinted at the piercing morning sunlight while slowly approaching him.

"You know what this is about, Stan. Who did you tell?"

"Me? I didn't tell anybody."

Cartman stared at him with pure hatred.

"Cartman, I'm telling the truth," he explained as he flipped his palms in the air. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Do you know what I saw this morning? Someone literally climbed up to my second floor window just to spray paint the word "fag" on my window. Do you know what my mom's probably gonna see that?" He began pacing around, showing real nervousness.

"I don't know anything about that, I swear. Believe me, I didn't tell anybody. I'm just still trying to... get used to it."

"Yeah, well while you're over here 'getting used to it,'" Cartman mocked. "People are probably spreading this shit left and right, and I need to know where it came from."

"Cartman, I can't help you."

Cartman growled in anger and said, "Well I'm gonna kick the ass of anyone who tries this shit on Kyle."

Stan stood in silence, shivering from the snowy air. Cartman seemed to be thinking to himself now.

Suddenly he jerked his head towards Stan, which made Stan jump slightly. "You still don't accept us, do you?"

"I... I don't know. I mean it's-"

"Nevermind. Forget I asked."

Silence.

"I'm going to, uh, visit Kyle today. Are you even coming?" Cartman asked, distantly.

"No, I-"

"Great. Fantastic. Bye, Stan."

And with that, Cartman walked back to his house with thoughts reeling through his throbbing head, leaving Stan standing in his driveway.