Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Do Me a Favor 

“God why the fuck does this crazy bastard have to live out in the middle of fucking nowhere?” Cartman grumbled as he trudged through the snow, pulling his jacket up over his mouth to shield himself from the harsh wind. It was the end of October, and it was typically cold for the time of year. Finally, large black gates appeared in the distance, and he quickened his pace, desperate to get out of the snow that had begun to fall. 

He looked around briefly for a way in, his eyes straining in the low light, before spotting a keypad with a buzzer. He pressed the intercom button and shouted, “It’s Eric Cartman, let me in, I’m freezing my balls off out here, jeez,” 

The gates buzzed and slid open, and Cartman shuffled up the path to the door. Mephisto opened the door and stood aside, he was beginning to shrivel in his old age and his hair was white, still sticking up at odd angles. Cartman felt a fleeting pang of anxiety, but pushed it down. 

“Hello Eric, welcome back. It’s nice to have you …again,” Mephisto looked him up and down, then stepped aside and motioned for the boy to follow him. 

Cartman hadn’t seen or heard from him since the whole debacle with trying to find out his father really was. Until recently that is, when Cartman had arranged this meeting. 

“Aye, no beating around the bush let’s just get this over with, have you got the stuff?” Cartman said, shutting the door and eyeing the large cages and machines, the cabinets full to the brim with various bottles, jars and boxes. He couldn’t help but notice the smell, like an enclosure at the zoo, and shrivelled his nose up in disgust. 

“Yes, but I must remind you, we agreed that you’d hold up your end of the, ah…deal, first Eric,” Mephisto drawled, a slightly menacing glimmer in his eyes. 

“Yeah yeah, whatever, do what you gotta do so I can get outta here, this place gives me the fuckin’ creeps,” Cartman muttered, rubbing his gloved hands together in an effort to restore some feeling to his numb fingers. 

Mephisto led him into a room through the back, almost like a hospital room, except more outdated and less blindingly white. He gestured for Cartman to lay on the bed, while he shuffled around grabbing medical supplies, towels, and what looked like a large scalpel- 

“AYE, no way. Nuh-uh. You are not cutting into me with that thing, you are losing your goddamn mind if you think you’re getting near me with that!” Cartman shouted, his anxiety peaking as he felt his hands begin to tremble slightly. 

“Relax Eric, you won’t feel a thing, that’s what this is for,” Mephisto waved around a large needle filled with a suspicious green liquid. “It’ll be over before you know it, you’ll be asleep the whole time, and then we can get to the business of the medication for your mother. If you haven’t forgotten Eric, you don’t have insurance, and unless you have a couple thousand dollars laying around, I highly suggest you allow me to continue,” he said, approaching slowly and handing Eric a paper thin gown. 

Cartman had been willing to put up a fight, but thought better of it and instead, wordlessly grabbed the gown with a huff and stormed behind the wrinkled old curtain to change, shouting, “At least get out while I take my clothes off you fuckin’ pedo,” as he pulled it shut. 

Once he had undressed and put the gown on, he sat on the edge of the bed. His thoughts were running a mile a minute, and he felt the beginnings of an anxiety attack coming on. He tried to practise the breathing techniques his therapist was always trying to get him to do, but they never worked. 

“Shit, fuck- okay, just calm down, you’ve been through a lot fuckin’ worse things, this will be easy, and then everything can go back to normal,” he told himself. 

Just then, he heard a knock on the door, which made his heart pound even harder. 

“Eric, are you ready?” Mephisto asked. When he got confirmation from the boy that he was ready, he walked in with a clipboard, and handed it to Cartman.

“I just need you to read this and sign it to confirm you understand and give consent for this procedure,” the older man explained. 

“Whatever, man,” Cartman mumbled as he scribbled a signature at the bottom, not bothering to read any of the medical jargon and disclaimers on the paper in front of him. 

Mephisto took the clipboard back, placing it on top of a desk in the corner of the room. “Ok, Eric, if you’re ready to begin, lay back on the bed and I’ll administer the sedative now,” he said, an air of excitement about him as he walked toward the bed, needle in hand. 

Cartman took a deep breath, lay down and nodded his head at the man; he didn’t trust his voice not to falter if he spoke. He felt the needle pierce his arm, stinging for a brief period before everything started to slowly become fuzzy. Mephisto began gathering things from a cabinet, and the last thing Cartman saw before losing consciousness was the man pulling a large, red and white cooler from a fridge at the back of the cupboard. 

… 

Once Cartman had woken up from the questionable surgery, he sat up a little painfully to find a long incision across his stomach, crudely covered with a thin white bandage and some gauze. He was surprised to find he still had the use of his legs and was able to walk around with only a minimal amount of pain. He carefully dressed and waddled into the main lab to find Mephisto wearing thick goggles and prodding at an unconscious porcupine with a scalpel and a dish of what looked like severed animal limbs. He felt his stomach turn. 

“The fuck did you do to me, I swear to god if you stole one of my organs I will fuck you up, I know that shit is worth, like, a bajillion dollars on the black market but if anyone’s selling my organs it’s gonna be me!” Cartman hissed, only half-joking. It was then he remembered he had already had an organ stolen without his knowledge, his mood souring even further. 

“Ah, it’s good to see you’re awake. No need to worry I didn’t take any organs, nothing of value was removed during the procedure, I assure you. I must thank you again for allowing me to conduct my little… experiment in exchange for these,” he smiled, removing his goggles and handing Cartman two small orange pill bottles. 

“The blue ones are for Lianne. One a day, in the morning before food, and your Mother should be feeling much better in a matter of weeks. The white ones are yours, just a little something to relieve the pain while your incision heals, it shouldn’t take long, they’re very strong so you may feel drowsy. Would it perhaps be okay if I were to check in with you in around six months time to see how things are coming along?” Mephisto asked. 

“That wasn’t part of the deal, I gave you what you wanted, let you play mad scientist, cut me up like a fuckin thanksgiving turkey, so no I will not be stepping one of my precious feet in your stupid lab ever again,” Cartman sneered, grabbing the bottles and storming off towards the door, slamming it and disappearing into snowy night. 

“Very well” Mephisto muttered to himself, although he had every intention of watching from afar to see just how this played out. He had taken a gamble, making some assumptions about Eric Cartman based on years of observation. Only time would tell if his assumptions had been correct, and then he would know whether his experiment had worked. 

. . . one week later, November . . . 

“I’m just saying dude, they should’ve stopped at five, they’re beating a dead horse now. The world doesn’t need a 9th Terrance and Phillip movie!” Kyle argued. 

“No way man, they’ll always be a classic, I mean did you even see Asses of Fire 7, the scene with the chick and the dog? Shit was fucking funny, you’ve just lost your sense of humor since you started obsessing over your grades trying to get into med school,” Kenny scoffed around a mouthful of his meatball sub. 

Kyle’s grades were a touchy subject at the moment. He was taking as many AP classes as he could with the hope of skipping a pre-med course and going to a good school to become a doctor. His parents were thrilled at this, but ever since they found out he wanted to become a doctor, they’d been breathing down his neck about his grades, his extra credit, what extracurriculars would look best on his application. He was already signed up for debate, as well as an advanced study group, and a Lit club. 

Stan could see Kyle beginning to get irritated at the mention of this, so he tried to change the subject. 

“Hey, did you guys see they’re doing a drag show to raise money for the yearbook and prom committees? Wendy told me that Bebe told her that whoever gets the most votes gets a 250$ gift card for the mall,” Stan said, hoping the news would shift the conversation away from Kyle’s studies. 

Kenny dropped his sub, splashing Stans hoodie with marinara. “Aw, c'mon dude, this is my favourite hoodie,” Stan whined. 

Kenny didn’t seem to notice, as he looked eagerly between Stan, Kyle and Cartman. 

“Well, I’m totally doing it, think about it, I could get a ton of shit with that, maybe even get myself some clothes that don’t have fucking holes in ‘em. I’ve still got my princess wig and I can borrow a dress from Karen” he grinned wiggling his eyebrows at the other boys. 

“No way, I’m not wearing a dress, isn’t that kinda like, gay?” Stan asked. 

Butters bounced up to the table, cheerful as usual, a crumpled up purple flyer in his hands, “Hey fellas, did ya hear about the drag show yet? I can’t wait, I’m already thinking ‘bout what I’m gonna wear. I ‘member when you guys dressed me up as Marjorine, and I felt real pretty… I sure wouldn’t mind getting all dolled up again!” He beamed, inserting himself between Kenny and Cartman and slapping the flyer down on the table 

“Hell yeah! See, Butters gets it!” Kenny cheers, high fiving Butters and clapping him on the back. Butters turned pink, picking at the fluff on his sweater. 

“Well I’m not doing it, besides I’ll be too busy keeping Wendy from having a nervous breakdown trying to plan it,” Stan sighs.

“I’m with Stan, I’m not doing it either, I have enough to do already with schoolwork and debate and my mom is freaking out about my college early admission applications,” Kyle chimes in. 

“Ugh, you guys are fuckin lame, what about you Cartman? Can we expect bad Irene to make a reappearance?” Kenny leans across the table waving his sub at Cartman, who doesn’t seem to be listening to the conversation. 

Kyle noticed this, wondering why Cartman is being uncharacteristically quiet lately, and assumes he’s scheming again. He had disappeared for a few days last week with no explanation and then turned up like nothing happened. It’s usually best to try to stop these schemes in their tracks before they blow out of proportion, and if Kyle has learned anything by now it’s that if left unchecked, a Cartman plot can have dire consequences. 

He eyes Cartman suspiciously, and for the first time, he notices the bags under his eyes, his hair a disheveled mess rather than the typical, self proclaimed, “artfully tousled” look Cartman usually sports. If it was any of his other friends, Kyle might be concerned, but this was Cartman, and if anything this raised further suspicions. Although, it wasn’t his usual gimmick, typically when he was involved in something he’d be sly, cocky, boastful, anything but this unusually quiet, withdrawn facade he has going on. Nevertheless. He must be up to something, and Kyle is gonna figure out what. 

“Hey fatass, what’s going on with you lately? You’re acting really fucking strange, what are you up to?” Kyle asked accusingly, narrowing his eyes and pointing a finger in his direction. 

Finally, Cartman looked up from where he was pulverising his leftover meatloaf with a fork, glaring at Kyle. 

“And how, pray tell, am I acting strange, Kahl? And for your information what I do is none of your fucking business anyway, so keep your Jew nose out of it!” he spat. 

“Oh don’t give me that shit, I know you’re up to something. You've barely said a word today, you look like shit, you disappeared for three days last week, and you’re not demanding to be the centre of attention for once. Something’s up, you might as well tell us what,” Kyle demanded, feeling his blood pressure rising by the second. 

Not much had changed since they were kids, still getting on each other's nerves and fighting like cat and dog. Kyle still got riled up, feeling his pulse race, his nerve endings crackling, every time they did this. He was wondering when fighting with Cartman would get old, but it didn’t seem to be happening yet. 

“Oh, don’t mind me, I’m just tired ‘cause I’ve been up all night banging your bitch mom,” Cartman sneered. This earned an exasperated groan from Stan, a high five from Kenny, and a muffled giggle from Butters. 

“Oh, yeah, hilarious. We’ve never heard that one before,” Kyle muttered. “Well, next time, mind your fucking business, Jew” Cartman sneered back. “Go to hell, lard ass,” Kyle retorted. 

“Woah, guys chill out. So, Cartman, you gonna do the drag show or not?” Kenny asked, redirecting the conversation once again. 

“Hell yeah I am, and you can kiss that prize goodbye ‘cause I’m in it to win it, I’m gonna be the baddest bitch there,” Cartman grinned, finally seeming to engage in the conversation. 

Kyle zoned out as Cartman and Kenny argued over who would win the drag show, which eventually somehow led to Butters settling a debate as to who would make the most money as a prostitute, citing his stint as a pimp in elementary school making him the most qualified. Apparently Butters had decided Kenny would, which led to even more arguing. 

The bell rang signaling the end of lunch period. Kyle headed in the direction of his next class, AP calculus, which he shared with Cartman. He also shared AP statistics with his frenemy. They had all initially thought Cartman had been joking when he said he’d be taking the advanced courses. 

“Screw you guys, I’m not going to to some lame fuckin’ community college like the rest of the losers in this hell hole. I’m going to business school. One day I WILL make my million dollars just you watch,” Cartman had boasted.

Kyle rolled his eyes at the memory. Much to his, and everyone else’s surprise, he hadn’t dropped out of the classes yet. He seemed to be managing pretty well, not top of the class by any stretch of the imagination, but managing. 

Kyle found himself automatically scanning the room for the brunette, and as if on cue, he shuffled through the door and took his usual spot at the desk next to Kyle’s. 

“Is that another can of monster, isn’t that your second one today? You know they’re bad for you right?” Kyle eyed the drink wearily. The bags under his eyes seemed even more pronounced now under the harsh fluorescent lighting of the classroom. 

“Third actually, not that it’s any of your fucking business,” Cartman snapped, not bothering to take any of his books out, and instead laying his head in his arms on the table. 

… 

Cartman sighed as he unlocked the door, stepping into the hall and throwing his bag down. He absentmindedly ran his fingers across the still fresh scar along his stomach as he walked up the stairs. 

“Eric sweetie is that you” Liane called from her room. She still sounded very weak. He pushed open the door to her room to find her still laying in bed, where she had been since yesterday evening. 

“Hi, Poopsiekins, how was school, Hun?” 

“Shitty, as usual. Did you eat today?” Cartman asked, sitting on the edge of her bed and picking up a bottle of pills to inspect the label. 

“Don’t you worry about me, Eric. Oh, I haven’t made you dinner, I’m sorry sweetie, I can try making dinner if you’ll just give me a few minutes I’m sure I’ll be feeling well enough to get up,” she mumbled, wincing as she sat up and pulled the blankets off. He noticed how thin she’d gotten, hardly any weight on her small frame. 

Cartman held a hand out to stop her, gently pushing her back down into the bed.

“It’s fine just-“ he sighed, running a hand through his slightly greasy hair. “I’ll make us dinner, you just lay back down.” 

He got up and walked to the door, and as he stepped into the hall he heard his mom, just above a whisper, say “I’m sorry, Eric. I know I’ve let you down, I’ll make it up to you.” 

He heard sniffling, but chose to ignore her and carried on down the stairs to the kitchen, feeling a nauseating swirl of emotions making the pit of his stomach churn. 

“Nothing to fucking eat in this house, Goddamn it!” He cursed angrily under his breath as he rummaged through the nearly bare cabinets. 

He tried the fridge, opening it to reveal some half empty condiments, a mouldy block of cheese, a couple cans of monster and some soggy tomatoes. 

He wandered over to his mothers purse, and looked to find there was only thirty dollars and some loose change. He shoved the money into his pocket. “Least she can fuckin’ do is pay for groceries if I have to do everything else,” he grumbled, grabbing his keys and walking back out into the cold evening, slamming the door as he left. 

He put his keys into the ignition, turning the heater on full blast and blaring Arctic Monkeys before putting the car in gear and heading to the store to find something for dinner. 

. . . 

“Hell yeah, that’s three in a row, you can kiss my ass, pussies,” Kenny shouted gleefully, throwing down his controller in favour of stealing a handful of Stan’s chips. 

Stan swatted his hand away, “Yeah whatever man,” he groaned. 

“Have you guys noticed there’s seriously something up with Cartman?” Kyle looked at the other two boys. 

Stan looked over at Kyle wearily, running a hand over his face and sighing heavily.

“Oh, not this again, Kyle, c’mon. We’ve been over this, why are you so obsessed with what Cartman is doing lately, don't you have better things to be worrying about, I thought we were past all this bullshit!” Stan said, exasperated as he stood up and walked to the fridge to grab a soda. 

Kyle looked at Kenny for backup, but he just shrugged his shoulders and grabbed Stan's bag of chips again, “It’s Cartman, why do you care” he asked, looking curiously at Kyle. 

“Because it’s obvious he’s scheming again, clearly he just has some awful plan that he’s working on! He just vanished from school last week, nobody saw or heard from him for like three days, then he just turned up at school with no explanation, and he’s like, suspiciously quiet. A quiet Cartman is never good for anyone. And did you see how tired he was today? Clearly he’s up to something, and you guys should be more worried about it, when Cartman is on his bullshit, we all end up involved!” Kyle cried. 

“Look Kyle if you’re so worried about it, why don’t you try to find out what it is he’s up to. If you like, I don’t know, find any evidence he’s actually up to something sinister, we’ll help you,” Stan offered, plopping back down on the couch beside Kenny. 

Kyle groaned in frustration. Why weren’t the guys taking this seriously? They knew Cartman as well as he did, they knew what he was capable of. He decided he’d had enough and told the guys he was gonna head home and study. 

Just as he walked up to his door, he caught sight of Cartman pulling into his driveway. He quickly ran inside and watched from his window. Cartman got out, carrying two large plastic bags, and walked into his house. What the hell is in those bags? It’s not as if he does any grocery shopping, Kyle scoffed to himself at the thought. No, Cartman was a lazy piece of shit who let his mom do all the housework. 

Kyle decided he was definitely scheming again, and was determined to find out exactly what he was planning. 

Just then, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He looked at it to find a text from Butters in their group chat, which consisted of himself, Butters, Stan, Kenny and Cartman. Kenny had affectionately named it “Sexy Bitches”, much to the annoyance of the rest of them, but it had stuck and had been that way since freshman year. 

9:23- Butterballs: Hey fellas, you guys wanna meet up after school tomorrow and start working on our outfits for the drag show! I’m real excited, already have an idea of what I’m wearing!!! :D 

Kyle shot back a quick message. 

9:24- Kyle B: Already told u guys, not doing it. Too busy studying 9:27- Stan the man: same. busy with wendy. also like i said isnt that kinda gay 

9:27- Kenneth the menace: Dw butters ill be there bby, we r gonna b the sexiest bitches there <3 @cartmanbrah u in on this bby?” 

Kyle rolled his eyes at Kenny’s message as he toed off his shoes and sat on his bed. After a few minutes of mindlessly scrolling through his twitter feed, he got a notification telling him Cartman had responded in the group chat. 

“A thumbs up, that’s it?” Kyle scoffed in disbelief. Something was definitely off with Cartman. He was usually pretty responsive in the group. Usually it consisted of looking for attention or starting arguments, but responsive nonetheless. 

Kyle threw his phone down on his nightstand and buried his head in his pillow. He was going to have to figure out what was going on with Cartman before it drove him insane. 

After a while trying to study, he decided it was pointless. He was tired and his mind was racing thinking of all the things Cartman could be up to. He closed his textbook and threw it back into his backpack. 

He sat up and peered through his bedroom curtain at the house across the street to see if he could see any movement in the other boy’s room. It looked like the lights were off, but obviously he was still up if he was on his phone.

He walked into the bathroom, and looked at his wild mane of hair disapprovingly while he brushed his teeth. He would have to get a haircut soon, he’d let it grow a little longer than he’d liked while being caught up with schoolwork lately. 

Once he was ready for bed, he checked his phone for any indication of whether the other boy was still awake, quickly checking out his window again, but still seeing no light from the house. 

He sighed and got into bed. 

Kyle tossed and turned uneasily, trying and failing to get to sleep. He kept imagining all the different menacing schemes Cartman could possibly be pursuing. Images of him manically laughing, memories of him grinding his own father into chilli, and flashbacks of all the devious plots he had conjured up flitted through his brain. 

Kyle sighed, turning over and pulling the covers up over his head. It was just his anxiety and paranoia acting up. He had to stop thinking about Eric fucking Cartman, before he lost his mind.

Chapter Text

Cartman groaned and rolled over, rubbing his eyes and snoozing his alarm for the third time. He pulled back the covers and shivered as the cold air hit him. He quickly searched for a pair of pants to shield himself from the cold, grabbing a pair and sniffing, only to recoil at the smell.

“Shit, I really need to do some laundry,” he wrinkled his nose and sighed, pulling them on anyway.

He picked up a couple of clothes off the floor and threw anything that was badly in need of a wash into the clothes hamper at the foot of his bed. He decided he’d better make a mental note to do the laundry when he was home from school.

A buzz from his phone pulled him away from his thoughts, and he grabbed it off the dresser. He checked his notifications, a couple messages from the guys, an email from his therapist which he pretended he didn’t notice, and a couple from reddit and discord. Then he glanced at the time.

“Fuck, goddamnit I’m gonna be late again,” he muttered, grabbing a pair of sneakers and a hoodie and running downstairs.

He threw his bag over his shoulder and was about to run out the door when he heard his mom calling from upstairs.

“What is it mom, I can’t hear you, I’m gonna be late for school!” he shouted, drumming his fingers impatiently on the doorframe.

“Have a good day at school Hun,” came her reply. She sounded even worse than she had last night, weak, exhausted and fragile. Eric tried not to worry as he shouted back a goodbye and hurried out to the car.

He threw his backpack in the passenger seat and made his way down the street. He remembered then that he was meeting with Kenny and Butters after school.

“Hey siri, text Butters! ” he commanded. He’d asked Butters if he had any laundry detergent he could borrow. If he was going over there he might as well take some off Butters so he didn’t have to stop at the store again on the way home.

Once the message had been sent, he was reminded of the time Kyle had called him lazy for using the assistant to text while driving. “Oh ok, Kahl, would you rather me text and drive? Would that be better? No, cos you’d be on my ass for that too, so shut your goddamn mouth!” He’d retorted, and Kyle had conceded with a huff and a shrug of his shoulders. He remembers the smug satisfaction he felt at winning an argument with Kyle, something that didn’t happen often, but when it did he savoured it for months.

Once he pulled up to school he realised he was definitely late.

“Fuckkkk this, I’ll get another tardy and Ms stick-up-her-ass Holloway is gonna chew me out again,” he growled, angrily slamming his car door shut. Any lingering satisfaction he had felt at the memory of Kyle quickly diminished, as he dreaded the day ahead of him. He wanted to take it as slow as possible, but he knew he’d land himself in further trouble if he did.

By lunch, Cartman was already at his limit. He had received a tardy, gotten a lecture about it, missed a homework assignment that he’d forgotten about, and was falling behind in calculus. So it was just his luck when Kevin Stoley came storming up to their table looking like he was out for blood.

“Uh fellas?” Butters said faintly, gesturing his head to the side for them to look.

“What does this asshole want now, c’mon dude,” Stan groaned, throwing his head into his hands.

Kevin reached the table and slammed his hands down, disturbing the lunch trays and jostling Butters’ arm in the process.

Kenny looked up then, and shot him a glare.

“Hey, the fuck is your problem, Stoley?” He snapped.

“Eric. Fucking. Cartman.” He spat back, moving to stand right over Cartman. “This fat ugly piece of shit spread around some BULLSHIT about me, and it made me lose my girlfriend, my best friend, and damaged my reputation.” He punctuated each point with a finger to Cartman's pudgy chest.

“Fuck off, Stoley. First of all, I only spoke the truth, you know it ain’t bullshit, so did your girlfriend apparently, good for her!” Cartman gave a smug smile directed at Kevin, who tried to interrupt, but Cartman continued, louder this time.

“Two, it isn’t like you had much of a reputation to ruin anyway. And three, get the fuck out of my face!” Cartman countered, mimicking Kevin by shoving him in the arm with each point he made.

Cartman was about to turn back to his lunch and continue eating, until Kevin swung and punched him right in the nose, knocking him backwards off the bench and onto the ground. It immediately started gushing blood, and before he could even process it, Kevin was above him swinging again, this time catching him in the eye.

Kenny was the first to react, jumping up and pulling Kevin off him. If only a few people had been staring before, now they’d gotten the attention of the whole cafeteria, the commotion and chatter swelling excitedly around them, with some even chanting for a fight.

“Oh jeez, this ain’t gonna end well,” Butters sighed, wringing his hands anxiously. Stan seemed unwilling to get involved, subtly glaring at the scene before him, and beside him, Kyle rolled his eyes. He didn’t approve of how it was being handled but trusted Cartman could look after himself, sure that Kevin was in for an ass-whooping.

All of a sudden, Cartman was up off the ground and charging for Kevin, knocking both him and Kenny over in the process. Cheers and Whoops erupted from around them as all eyes were now on the three boys grappling on the ground. Cartman now had the upper hand, using his size to his advantage to pin Kevin to the ground, showering him with punches and using the other boy as an outlet for his pent up frustration.

In an instant, Kyle was out of his seat trying to pull Cartman off.

“Jesus Christ,” Stan groaned exasperatedly, following suit.

They each grabbed an arm and pulled the heavier boy back, although he was still thrashing and trying to get back to the ground to where Kevin was now crying, sporting a similarly injured face.

“Dude leave it, it’s not worth it just calm down. You’ve already done enough let’s just fucking get out of here,” Kyle sighed, pulling Cartman along by the arm, with Stan and Kenny not far behind.

“Fuck that guy, he’s just fucking salty cos his bitch girlfriend left him and he has no friends, fucking loser. Punches like a little bitch too!” Cartman seethed, grimacing at the pain radiating through the incision on his stomach from the altercation, and holding his nose in his sleeve which was slowly turning red.

“Uh-huh, yeah, tell that to your face asshole,” Kyle said, trying not to be seen by too many people on the way to the boys bathroom.

Craig and Clyde were walking in their direction, Clyde’s eyes widening as he caught sight of Cartman.

“Wow, Cartman, you should really-“

“FUCK OFF CLYDE!” Cartman and Kyle both shouted in unison, brushing past the other two boys and continuing towards the bathrooms.

Once they were all inside, and Cartman had bloody tissue hanging from his nose, Kyle turned to him, finger pointed accusingly.

“What the fuck was that about, fatass”

“Excuse me?! Clearly it was that fucking dickwad that started it. I was attacked while innocently trying to enjoy my lunch,” Cartman whined.

“Bullshit, you obviously provoked him somehow. What did you do? Is this what you’re up to now? Does your plan somehow involve him, is he your next victim?” Kyle rambled, pacing the bathroom as Kenny and Stan shared confused glances.Cartman just stared at Kyle with an even more perplexed face that would have looked comical had it not been for the bloody tissues hanging from his nose.

“Victim, plan? Kahl, what the actual fuck are you talking about? It would be just like you to pick sides with anybody over me, even when I’m clearly in the fucking right! Yeah, so what, maybe I told his girlfriend that I caught Red giving him a blowjob at a party, but I was just doing my duty to protect the females of this school from fuckboys like him.” He finished, seemingly satisfied with his justification.

“No way, there’s more to it than that. Protecting females my ass. You’ve gotta be getting something out of this, otherwise you’d have just used it as blackmail against him. What’s your angle, are you trying to get his ex girlfriend or something, I don’t get it?” Kyle stopped pacing and stared at Cartman, the two caught in a staring contest, with Kyle trying to figure out what the other boys nefarious intentions were. Cartman couldn’t believe he was being blamed for this, even while standing there bleeding and bruised. Suddenly, the beeping of the intercom startled the four boys, with Stan and Kenny having been caught staring at the standoff.

“Eric Cartman and Kevin Stoley, please report immediately to the principals office.” Principal Victoria's agitated voice crackled over the intercom. She had moved up to high school principal after P.C Principal took over at South Park Elementary.

“Boy, she sounds pissed,” Kenny laughed.

“Well Kahl, clearly you’ve lost your fucking mind, and as much as I’d love to stay and watch that unfold, I better get going,” Cartman muttered around the tissue he was holding to his nose.

Once he was gone, Stan turned to Kyle with a concerned look on his face.

“What? Why are you giving me that look?” Kyle snapped, as he felt his patience wearing paper thin.

“You’re really still convinced he’s up to something? You seriously don’t think this is just, I don’t know, Cartman being, well… Cartman?” Stan suggested, aware that Kyle was staring at him like he’d grown a second head, not believing he was defending Cartman for once. This prompted him to continue.

“Dude he’s an asshole, he does asshole shit like this, literally all the time, usually for his own entertainment. I think you really need to chill out a bit with the whole Cartman is scheming paranoia, it’s getting a bit worrying.” Stan said, trying to tread as gently as he could so as not to further provoke the already high strung teen. He looked to Kenny for backup, but the blonde boy just held his hands up and gave him a look that clearly said ‘This is all you bro’.

Kyle scoffed incredulously, shaking his head and turning to storm out of the bathroom.

“Fucking unbelievable.” He hissed under his breath, slamming the door behind him.

Kyle spent the rest of the school day miserable, anxious and unable to concentrate. His last class of the day was AP Stats, which he shared with Cartman. He braced himself before walking into the classroom, before heading to his seat in the back next to the insufferable boy.

Much to his surprise, the other boy seemed to have done a complete 180, and was again withdrawn and quiet, laying with his head on his arms, toying with the corner of his textbook. He was already sporting a huge black eye, his nose was still slightly bloody and was also beginning to bruise.

Kyle kept a watchful eye on him throughout the whole class, attempting once or twice to make conversation, but giving up once it was clear he wasn’t getting anywhere. Instead, he tried to look for any clues in Cartmans behaviour, the way he fidgeted with his zipper, the way he bit his nails, but found nothing that could give him any insight. At one point, Cartman had taken out his phone behind his textbook, and Kyle had tried to inconspicuously lean over to see what he was doing.

“Mister Broflovski, eyes on your own work, please!” the teacher scolded. He felt everyone’s eyes, including Cartmans, on him and his cheeks turned a bright crimson. He resolutely kept his eyes on his own textbook for the remainder of the class.

When the final bell rang to dismiss them, Cartman was gone before Kyle could interrogate him any further. He had debate after school today, but he felt sluggish as he made his way there. He knew he wasn’t going to be on his best game today.

The topic today was something about companies’ environmental and ethical obligations, something that Kyle quite honestly could not give a shit about right now. He was busy thinking of ways to investigate the matter, he debated going to Cartman's house so he could poke around to see if he could find anything else. He quickly dismissed the idea, and only then did a loud voice drag him back to reality.

“Kyle? KYLE!” He jumped as Wendy smacked his arm with her bundled up papers.

“Shit my bad, sorry, what did you say?” Kyle asked sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

“It’s your turn to make a rebuttal… are you ok? You seem very distracted today, is this something to do with what happened with Kevin in the cafeteria earlier?” She asked, trying to seem nonchalant but obviously looking for a bit of gossip about what happened. Kyle tried to suppress an eye-roll, he was sure the rumour mill was already working its magic.

He and Wendy had become something akin to friends since starting high school and sharing a lot of classes and extracurriculars. It was nice to have someone on his academic level to make conversation with, though that didn’t mean that Wendy was below playing dumb to acquire gossip.

“Uh, no, that was just Cartman being a dick. Well it was really more Kevin being a dick but I’m sure he had good reason, I mean it is Cartman. Anyway, don’t worry about it,” He said, waving his hand dismissively before diving into his rebuttal and trying to keep his focus on his argument for the rest of the session.

. . .

Cartman was sitting on the floor at the foot of Butters’ bed reading posts on r/tifu, laughing at other people’s misfortune to feel better about his day. It only kind of worked.

“Here ya go Eric, it’s just the normal kind a’ detergent, whatever my mom had in the cupboard, I hope that’s ok for ya, it’s nothin’ fancy but it does the job,” Butters rattled on, handing over a small bottle of blue gel.

“Butters, it’s just laundry detergent, I don’t give a shit, it’s whatever, but thanks I guess,” Cartman huffed, taking the bottle without looking up from his phone.

Butters sat cross legged in front of his closet, pulling out a shoebox from underneath a pile of old hats and scarves.

“These are my dresses and accessories, I like to wear ‘em sometimes cos they make me feel real nice, but I don’t think my dad would like it if he found ‘em, probably get real sore with me if he did..” he stammered, nervously rubbing his knuckles together.

Cartman rolled his eyes and finally looked up from his phone.

“Who gives a shit what he thinks, fuck him. I never let my mom decide what I do, why do you let him control your life? If he has a problem just tell him to fuck off, what’s he gonna do, ground you? Butters you’re 18, fucking grow a pair and stand up to him. You gonna keep being a pussy for the rest of your life?” Cartman ranted, but it lacked any real bite. He really did wish Butters would stand up for himself.

There was a momentary silence as Butters appeared to consider that thought, before they were interrupted by footsteps bounding up the stairs.

“What’s up, fuckers?” Kenny burst through the door, a tattered black duffel bag in one hand and a worn my little pony backpack in the other.

“Oh, heya Ken! Whatcha got there?” Butters beamed, his entire demeanor shifting when Kenny entered the room.

“Supplies. Some of my stuff, mostly Karen’s though, so we gotta be careful with it.” He explained, placing the bags on the floor and laying down so that his head rested on Butters legs.

Cartman eyed them suspiciously, and Butters immediately flushed pink, but Kenny just ignored him and continued talking.

“I have my own wig, she’s old but she’ll do. Karen let me borrow a couple dresses so we have options. She also gave me some makeup, earrings, stuff like that. As far as I know, Bebe said there’s a group of girls volunteering to do all the guys makeup on the day, so we don’t have to worry about that.” He grinned.

“Well, I got a few dresses here too that y’all are welcome to borrow if you like!” Butters offered.

Cartman scoffed and threw his phone onto Butters’ bed.

“Yeah, like either of you guys’ twiggy ass dresses are gonna fit me. Not to worry, I have contacts, and I will absolutely put both of you to shame. I have this in the bag, trust me you guys,” Cartman grinned, cracking his knuckles.

“Sorry dude but I don’t think you’re gonna steal the show wearing a Mumu from Walmarts plus size range,” Kenny teased.

“Aye, fuck you Kinny, I’ll have you know I’ll be getting a designer fucking dress, not that your white trash ass would know anything about that,” Cartman smirked, earning a middle finger from Kenny.

“What about you Butters, any ideas? You should wear the blue one, with the thingies on the shoulders, blue looks good on you!” Kenny said, his eyes closed and head still on Butters’ lap. He felt Butters shift beneath him, and opened his eyes to find Cartman staring directly at them.

“Uh, yeah I mean I guess I could try it on, see how it looks..” Butters mumbled nervously under Cartman's scrutinising gaze, which was slightly more menacing than usual with the addition of a black eye and busted lip.

Before he could ask any questions, Kenny hopped up and grabbed the bags he’d brought, rifling through them with a determined look on his face, until he seemingly found what he was looking for.

“I think this will be my pièce de résistance,” Kenny grinned, holding up a long, shimmering black dress with a slit that went up the side, and a deep plunging neckline.

Butters felt his mouth go dry at the sight, imagining how the dress would look on Kenny, and instantly pushing the thought to the back of his mind as a pink blush crept up his neck.

“Wow Ken, that sure is a nice dress, you’ll look positively amazing!” Butters gushed.

Cartman just rolled his eyes, standing up to examine the dress more closely. He pulled the dress away from Kenny, holding up the fabric and turning it over, carefully eyeing every detail, before handing it back to the other boy.

“Meh, kinda trashy if you ask me,” He shrugged.

“Well it’s a good thing I didn’t ask your tubby ass for an opinion,” Kenny teased, holding the dress up against his slim frame and looking into the mirror on Butters’ closet door.

He locked eyes with butters in the mirror, giving him a cheeky grin as the other boy blushed even harder, looking away and busying himself with rooting through his own pile of clothes.

Cartman cleared his throat, walking over to retrieve his phone. He glanced at the time, anxiety beginning to swirl with thoughts of his mother. He’d better get home and check on her.

“Well, I think I’ve had enough of this fag-fest for today, so I’m going home. Later,” he declared abruptly.

Kenny and Butters shared a look of confusion.

“Dude I just got here, it’s not like you’ve got somewhere to be, why are you ditching us already?” Kenny asked.

“You don’t know shit about where I have to be or what I have to do, so why don’t you lay the fuck off!” Cartman snapped back, turning and slamming the door before either of the other boys could process what had just happened.

“Uh, I think something may be up with Eric…” Butters said, wide eyed and still staring at the door, a mixture of surprise and concern on his face.

“Hmm, yeah. I think you might be right Butters. Maybe Kyle was actually onto something?” Kenny pondered.

“What was that about Kyle?” Butters asked, now just looking confused. He was often the only one out of the loop when something went on in the group concerning the other four, but Kenny usually filled him in eventually.

“Oh uh, nothing, don’t worry about it Buttercup. Now, show me the rest of these dresses I keep hearing about,” Kenny said excitedly, ruffling Butters’ blonde locks and kneeling next to him to rifle through the boxes and bags.

. . .

Kyle woke with a start, blearily checking his alarm clock which read 1.04 am, before looking to see who was interrupting his sleep at this hour of the night. He sighed as he saw Cartman's photo lighting up the screen, pinching the bridge of his nose as he slid up to answer the call.

“Dude, do you have any idea what fucking time it is?” he snapped.

“Kyle, please, you gotta help me, I-i don’t know what to do it’s my mom and like I have nobody else and I didn’t know who else to call and I just thought maybe with studying to become a doctor maybe you know how to help and shit- I’m sorry,” Cartman sobbed on the other end of the line.

Kyle’s blood ran cold as he took in the panic and desperation in the other boy's voice. He instantly felt guilty for snapping at him.

“Woah ok hold on Cartman, are you at home?” Kyle said, already jumping out of bed pulling on a random shirt and some sweats and tugging at his shoelaces.

“Yeah, could you come over please I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to do,” the other boy sniffled, clearly struggling to hold back more tears.

“Yeah just gimme a minute and I’ll be over, make sure your door is unlocked.” Kyle said, before hanging up the phone.

He grabbed a hoodie and tiptoed down the stairs, making sure to be extra careful not to wake anyone lest he face the wrath of Sheila Broflovski.

He jogged across the street and found the door to the Cartman’s house slightly ajar. He walked in and only a small lamp was on to illuminate the room.

“Dude I’m here, everything ok?” He called out, hating how his voice still sounded slightly hoarse from being asleep.

“Up here, in my moms room. Hurry,” came the reply, the other boy's voice unfamiliar, laced with concern. As much as Kyle believed the other boy was scheming, something in his voice made him believe his panic was sincere. Kyle pondered this as he made his way up the stairs, remembering how scared and upset he had been when they had lured him to the woods and smashed his devices when they assumed he was the troll, a guilty feeling washing over him.

When Kyle walked into Liane's room, the scene that greeted him sent a wave of anxiety coursing through him. Liane was laying motionless in bed, looking pale and withered and the only sign of life was the faint rise and fall of her chest. Cartman was on the bed kneeling beside her, gripping her hand in his own, his face red and tear stained.

“What happened, is she ok? How long has she been like this, does she have any, like, underlying conditions?” Kyle rattled off, walking over to feel her forehead with the back of his hand.

“She’s been sick for a while, but when she lost her job last year we lost our insurance coverage and she was doing ok but we couldn’t afford to see anybody. She’s been getting worse but I went to check on her before I went to sleep and she wouldn’t wake up. We can’t afford an ambulance, but there’s a doctor at Hell's Pass who my mom knows, he owes her a favor and said if we ever need any help we can ask for him.” Cartman explained through sniffles and hiccups, attempting to regain his composure in the presence of the other boy.

Kyle had to bite his tongue to stop from making a remark about just how Cartman's mom knew this doctor, but now wasn’t the time.

“Ok well uh, she definitely needs to go to the hospital” he agreed.

“Can you drive us, I’ll stay in the back with my mom. My keys are hanging up by the door, just be careful with my car, Jewboy!” Cartman quipped, attempting to engage in their usual banter, but the crease in his brow and slight quiver in his voice gave him away, his eyes never leaving his mother's frail frame.

Kyle decided to let that one slide, extenuating circumstances and all that.

“I, uh, your car is a manual right? I can’t drive stick, shit sorry- just wait a second, we can take mine. Meet me downstairs in a minute,” Kyle rambled, hurrying down the stairs and back across the street.

He snuck back inside and grabbed his own set of keys hanging just inside the door. Being careful to be extra quiet, if his mom caught him sneaking out and taking the car, he would be in a coffin before breakfast.

He quickly backed out of the drive and parked in front of Cartman's house, jumping out to help him open the back door. Cartman lay his mom gently on the seat before climbing in next to her.

The silence on the ride was tense, and Kyle could hear Cartman grumble every time he slowed down.

“Could you go any fucking slower Kahl, Jesus. Not as if we’re in any rush here!” He spat.

“Dude I’m going as fast as I fucking can, I’m driving the limit, the last thing we need is a traffic stop or a wreck so just calm down.” Kyle spoke as calmly as he could, trying to maintain some semblance of control over the situation.

When they pulled up to the hospital, Kyle swerved into the nearest available parking space. Cartman grabbed his mother in his arms and they all rushed into the E.D.

It wasn’t very busy, and the bored looking woman at the reception looked them up and down before asking what she could do for them.

“I need to see Dr. Derrick Mayer, tell him it’s Liane Cartman and that it’s an emergency!” Cartman barked.

The woman looked taken aback, and she hurried into a room in the back. Within about 30 seconds, a tall doctor with dark hair emerged from behind the staff E.D. door, heading straight for Cartman.

“Hey kid, long time no see. Your mom run into some trouble? Jackie could you get me a trolley over here please,” he shouted over at the woman at the desk.

Cartman was giving the man an icy glare.

“Don’t fucking call me ‘Kid’, asshole. And I swear to god you better look after my mom or I’ll kick your ass so bad you’ll be the one lying in a hospital bed,” Cartman shouted, clearly paying no mind to the other few patients scattered around the waiting room. Kyle was well aware that Cartman was only lashing out because he was hurt, seeing the genuine fear behind the outburst.

Another nurse came out through the door pushing a trolley, and with the help of Dr. Mayer, lifted Liane out of her son's arms and onto the bed.

“Don’t worry, we’ll do everything we can to help your mom sweetie. Now, why don’t you follow me on through here to our waiting room,” the nurse cooed. She seemed nice, she was older and evidently used to comforting children and panicked family members.

Kyle trailed slowly behind Cartman as they were led into a bleak white waiting room filled with uncomfortable looking plastic chairs.

“We’re just going to run a couple tests and see if we can’t figure out what’s going on. You two just wait here, and one of the nurses will be out as soon as we have any updates,” she said, before disappearing in the same direction the Doctor had taken Liane.

Kyle was still trying to process what was happening, when he heard sobbing behind him. He turned to see Cartman practically curled into a ball on one of the tiny white chairs. Instantly he was hit with a wave of guilt and regret. Maybe he wasn’t plotting after all, this must be why he had been acting strange.

He slowly lowered himself into the chair beside the crying boy, and tentatively reached a hand out to pat his back. He was unsure if the gesture would be appreciated, and wouldn't be surprised if he received a smack. He was surprised however, when Cartman seemed to lean into his touch, another sob wracking his body.

“I can’t lose my mom Kyle, I have nobody fucking else. She’s all I have, my good for nothing dad was never around, didn’t wanna know me. I have no siblings like you, Stan and Kenny do. Hell I don’t even have my grandma anymore, and my aunts and uncles don’t bother to even call. I know I never really appreciated her, add being a good son to the list of shit I’m apparently incapable of fucking doing.” Cartman spiralled, triggering another round of hoarse sobs.

Kyle didn’t know what to say, all he could do was continue to rub circles into the other boys back, although it seemed to be doing little to calm him.

After about thirty minutes of waiting in silence, the crying had stopped, replaced by a thick air of silence. Kyle was anxiously tapping his foot against the leg of the chair.

“Stop, that shit is annoying. You can, uh, go home if you want. Don’t have to sit here with me all night, probably be another couple of hours before they tell me anything,” Cartman mumbled, picking his nails and avoiding looking directly at Kyle.

Kyle considered this, but taking another look at the tired, tear stained face of the boy before him, decided he wouldn’t abandon him.

“Nah, I could use a day off school tomorrow, it’s been so stressful lately. I just better go call my mom and let her know where I am, she’ll go ape if she wakes up and finds me and the car gone,” Kyle said, standing to walk outside and call his mother.

Boy was this gonna be interesting. He had no idea how she was going to react, but he was just hoping she would be more concerned about Cartman and his mom than about Kyle sneaking out. His palms began to sweat as the phone rang once, twice, three times. It answered on the fourth ring.

“Kyle Bubbe, what’s wrong? Where are you, it’s three in the morning, what’s happened? Are you ok ?!” She shouted, panic rising in her voice.

“Woah it’s ok ma, I’m fine. It’s actually Cartman's mom. She had to go to the hospital and Cartman asked me to help them get here. Sorry I didn’t call you sooner I kinda panicked and forgot,” Kyle explained, holding his breath as he waited for her reply, knowing he was in for a potential scolding.

“Oh dear, is Liane okay? What about Eric? What happened to her?” Kyle could hear her footsteps pacing the floors, a nervous habit she had.

“We don’t know, yet. We’re just waiting for the doctor to come back and give us an update, they’re running tests. I’m gonna wait here with Cartman so he isn’t alone, if that’s ok,” Kyle had to stop himself pacing as well, conscious that he had picked that habit up from his mom.

“Of course Bubbe, you be sure to let me know how she is, and ring me if you need anything at all. Stay safe, and tell Eric I’m here if he needs anything,” she finished, her voice full of motherly concern.

“I will, thanks ma. I love you,” Kyle said, before hanging up and heading back into the waiting room.

He looked at Cartman, only now noticing the bruising and cuts on his face. He started to feel bad for not jumping in to help at the time, as he held a hand out to inspect the bruises further. Cartman swatted his hand away, and Kyle felt embarrassed for fussing like a mother hen.

“Kevin really got you good huh? How’s your eye?” He asked, plopping into the seat next to the larger boy, hoping the questions would distract him for the waiting.

“Meh, it’s fine. I’ve had worse. Principal Victoria put us both on two days suspension, even though I was just defending myself against that asswipe,” Cartman said, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. Kyle noticed it was longer than it had been in a while, just below his ears. He had gone through a phase of keeping it shoulder length in middle school but had been keeping it short since sophomore year.

“What was that about anyway with Kevin? I mean, how did you know about him cheating and like why bother telling her, why do you always involve yourself in shit that has nothing to do with you?” Kyle wondered, looking over at the other boy.

“Seen them hooking up at a party then leaving together at the end of summer, and another time kissing behind the bleachers at a football game. That’s the thing Kahl, you keep watching everyone and eventually you see things, learn things about people. It gives you an advantage over ‘em, and then one day when you need to use it, boom, you’ve got leverage!” Cartman explained excitedly, as if the point he was making wasn’t completely unhinged.

“That’s psychotic,” Kyle muttered, shaking his head.

“Maybe, Kyle, but it’s also smart,” Cartman retorted.

“So what made you finally spill, the fuck did Kevin Stoley do to you that you needed to exact revenge?” Kyle asked incredulously.

“He was being a dick to me last week for no reason in history. We had to partner up for a project and we were the last two left and he said he’d ‘rather gouge his eyeballs out with a spoon’ than work with me. So, there you have it. I have blackmail material for almost every kid in our school, you know.” Cartman said, giving Kyle a smug grin.

“Bullshit dude. There’s no way,” Kyle said, rolling his eyes. Cartman had always been one to over exaggerate things, so it was always wise to take what he said with a pinch of salt.

“Bebe gave Jimmy a handjob in the handicapped bathroom in freshman year” Cartman said, nonchalantly looking at his nails.

Kyle had to do a double take. He had to be bluffing.

“And how would you even know that, fatass?” Kyle choked in disbelief.

“Cus I walked in on them, you know I like to take my shits in the handicap toilet, more space to work with you know” he said, stretching his arms above his head before settling into a more comfortable position.

“Sick, dude,” Kyle grimaced, but his curiosity was now beginning to get the better of him.

“Yeah, well I bet you don’t know anything else,” He tried to sound disinterested, hoping Cartman would take the bait.

“Uh yeah I do. You know why Tweek and Craig broke up? It’s because Craig is in love with Clyde. Pretty fucked up, right?” Cartman said, yawning as he stretched once more, evidently becoming more uncomfortable in the tiny chair.

Kyle’s eyes widened.

“Ok and how on earth do you know that, huh? You catch them making out in the bleachers too?” Kyle scoffed.

“Nope. Craig got absolutely stoned out of his mind at Tolkien's birthday party last year and I found him crying like a little bitch outside when I was looking for Kenny. I don’t think he even remembers telling me, but I have it all stored up here for future use if I need it,” Cartman stated, tapping his temple to emphasise his point.

Kyle was shocked, while he may have been wrong about Cartman scheming, it seems he had greatly underestimated his potential for blackmail. This got him wondering what he had on Stan, Kenny and even himself.

“What about me?” Kyle asked, pulling at a loose thread on his joggers.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Jewboy,” Cartman laughed, yawning again.

This made Kyle yawn, only then feeling the tiredness creeping into his body. He looked at his phone, it was currently almost 4.30 am. They still had little idea what was happening with Liane.

A few minutes later Kyle looked up from his phone when he heard snoring, only to see the larger boy slumped to his side, mouth agape. He was snoring so loudly that Kyle was sure the nurses behind the door could hear it. He tried to ignore it, choosing to doom scroll on his phone to kill time.

After another minute, he felt a light pressure on his shoulder. Cartman had slipped further sideways and he was now laying against Kyle’s side with his head resting on his shoulder. He could feel the fluffy hair tickling the side of his chin, and was about to push the boy away until he looked at his face. He looked exhausted, the black eye making him look even more pathetic. Kyle felt guilt welling up again, and decided to let him sleep. Soon enough, his eyes were also drifting closed, no matter how much he fought to keep them open. The background noise of distant beeping machines and hushed chattering of nurses was enough to finally lull him into a light sleep.

When Kyle woke, it was to the same nurse from earlier, gently shaking them out of their sleep. It took a moment for him to get his bearings, his head was resting on top of Cartmans, which is when he finally realised they were still in the hospital.

“Sorry for waking you boys. Eric, the Doctor has told me to come let you know that your mother is stable, we’ve run our tests and she’s awake now and would like to see you, but before you do, one of the Doctors would like to speak to you. Would you like to come with me dear?” She asked, holding her hand out to Cartman as if he were a child.

“Uh, yeah ok, can my friend come too?” He asked, giving Kyle a quick glance as if asking if he was ok with this. Kyle simply nodded back.

“Of course, follow me,” she said, holding open the door and gesturing for them to go ahead.

As they walked through the long corridor, Kyle tried to get a sense for where they were. He looked around and saw a sign that told him they were on a cardiac ward. That couldn’t be good. He would bet money that this talk wasn’t going to go well. Eventually they came to a stop outside a small room.

“The Doctor will be with you in just a moment,” the nurse said, before turning and leaving the boys.

Before either one had a chance to speak, the Doctor appeared through the door. Once Kyle saw who it was, he couldn’t suppress the groan of annoyance the sight triggered. It was Dr. Doctor, notorious for being one of South Park's most utterly useless Doctors. His bedside manner was god awful too, from what Kyle could remember from his own various stints in the hospital.

“I’m sorry, son. We tried our best, we did everything we could. There’s nothing more we could do,” he said sorrowfully.

Kyle felt his stomach drop and his fingers go cold, what was he talking about, hadn’t the nurse said she was ok? He took one look at Cartman and could already see tears welling up in his eyes, panic setting in as his chest began to heave.

“What do you mean? She’s dead? I thought she was okay what the fuck is going on,” he shouted between panicked breaths.

“Oh no, she’s not dead. I just said there’s nothing more we could do, we ran all our tests and we’ve reached a diagnosis, so we did everything we could to the best of our ability,” he explained, clearly not seeing the issue.

“What the FUCK is wrong with you, why would you say it like that, are you fucking brain damaged or something?” Cartman shouted, lunging at the doctor.

Kyle quickly jumped in and grabbed Cartman by the arm, the last thing they needed was another scene, although he really couldn’t say he blamed him.

“What’s the diagnosis?” Kyle snapped testily, wanting nothing more than for this interaction to be over with.

“Well as I’m sure you know, Ms Cartman has a long history of promiscuous sexual activity and drug abuse, and this has led to stage three congestive heart failure. Coupled with a compromised immune system, she isn’t able to fight off any infections, do much physical activity, essentially what I’m saying is she’ll need full time care. We expect this diagnosis to be terminal, as it’s too far advanced for any of the typical treatment routes, and due to her history, she is not an eligible candidate for a transplant. We’ll keep her under observation for a day or two then send her home. The best thing for her now is to rest as much as possible. I’m sorry son.” He explained somberly.

While Kyle had struggled to hold Cartman back again at the beginning, by the end he was supporting nearly his full weight, as the larger boy almost collapsed onto him. The doctor had excused himself, but neither boy noticed, Cartman too busy drowning in grief, and Kyle too worried about him to notice. Despite this, he guided them back towards the seating area.

“Hey dude, it’s ok just, shit, here sit down for a minute,” Kyle said, slowly manoeuvring him down into the nearest chair.

Once again, he found himself unsure of what to do as Cartman sobbed. He briefly thought about hugging him, but was unsure whether he’d get a broken nose for attempting it. ‘Screw it’ he thought, leaning over and wrapping his arms tightly around the larger boy.

Cartman leaned into the hug, soaking Kyle’s shirt with wet stains as his choked sobs slowly died down. Eventually, Cartman pulled away a little, wiping at his nose with the hem of his own shirt.

“Sorry, fuck I don’t know what’s wrong with me, crying like a goddamn pussy,” he sighed, shaking his head.

“Dude, you’re allowed to feel emotions, you know that right? You’ve just been handed some pretty life changing news, it’s ok to be upset,” Kyle reassured him.

“Yeah I guess. Do you mind if I go in and just talk to my mom before we head home?” Cartman asked, eyes red and puffy from crying.

“Of course dude, I’ll be out here, take your time,” Kyle replied, making himself comfortable in the chair vacated by the other boy. He decided to text his mother and let her know the situation.

Cartman had spent about twenty minutes with his mother, and when he reappeared he was sniffling again. Kyle felt uneasy, he wasn’t used to seeing him cry this much, nor this sincerely. It was unnerving.

The drive home was spent in tired silence, Kyle struggling to keep his eyes open by the time he reached his driveway.

The two boys turned to go their separate ways, before Cartman turned back to Kyle.

“Uh thanks Kyle, you didn’t have to do that for me. I know you think I wouldn’t have done the same for you. I don’t know what I would’ve done on my own so uh yeah, thanks.” Cartman mumbled, delirious from tiredness and anxiety.

Kyle just nodded dumbly in response, thinking about what might’ve happened if the roles had been reversed. Cartman scratched the back of his neck, anxious to fill the awkward silence that had descended upon them.

“Oh and uh if you want I can teach you to drive stick, it isn’t too hard I’d say even your ginger ass could manage it,” he offered, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Fuck you” Kyle replied, eyes bleary and body aching with the need for sleep, but the familiar rivalry ignited soemthing in him that gave him just enough energy to keep up their banter.

“But, hey, maybe I’ll take you up on that offer sometime. Get some rest, dude. See ya,” Kyle replied, before turning and walking in the door of his house.

He looked at his phone to check the time, just past 9.30 am. He desperately needed a shower, but that could wait, he needed to sleep more.

“Kyle Bubbe is that you, are you back?” His mother shouted from the kitchen.

“Yeah ma, I’m just going up to try to get a couple hours of sleep, I’m exhausted. I’ll fill you in later.” He shouted back, quickening his pace to escape the inevitable slew of questions she was about to throw at him. He was too tired, though she knew she only meant well.

“Love you, mom,” he added quickly. He suddenly felt the need to tell her that more often, feeling a pang of sadness for Cartman.

He didn’t even bother taking off his shoes as he climbed under his covers and closed his eyes. This time, he quickly fell into a fitful sleep. He tossed and turned, mind plagued now not with suspicious thoughts, but with concern and empathy for Eric Cartman.