Chapter Text
"Goddammit, Stan," Kyle muttered to himself. He smashed the off button and shoved his phone into the pocket of his jeans. He'd called Stan three separate times, and each time it went to voice-mail. Kyle pulled on his sneakers and left his room.
"I'm going to Stan's!" he shouted in no particular direction. He didn't wait for his mom to respond before he was already out the door and loping to the Marsh house, the frustration bubbling in his stomach lengthening his stride so that he was almost running. Fall was beginning to settle in South Park, and the air was crisp and cold, but the heat of his pace and his anger kept him from feeling the chill. Even if it didn't, he didn't live far from Stan; the walk was short even at normal speed. Which meant Stan had no excuse to be three hours late to Kyle's, especially since Kyle was doing him a favor.
The wood of the Marsh family's front door thudded loudly when Kyle knocked. He put too much force behind it, which he knew was unnecessary, especially when Mrs. Marsh answered the door. A gentle smile lifted on her face when she saw Kyle and she gestured him inside.
"Kyle, welcome in! Stan's upstairs in his room."
"Thank you," Kyle responded, forcing the tension out of his face so his smile wouldn't look too false. He liked Sharon. It wasn't her fault Stan was a dick.
Kyle bounded up the stairs to Stan's room quickly, his frustration rebuilding, his thoughts running through every word he was going to say to express the feeling. Stan was going to fail his Algebra class and he'd have no one to blame but himself, and Kyle was seriously going to give him a piece of his mind about it. He must have been too forgiving before. He liked Stan too much, had been friends with him too long, but he needed to be mean this time, or Stan was going to let his life fall apart and Kyle wouldn't be able to do anything but watch.
Kyle's face felt hot when he got to Stan's room. He flung open the door, words of rage bubbling on his lips and his feet falling heavily.
"Stan, I swear to God-"
Kyle paused.
"Stan?"
Stan mumbled something incoherent and lifted his face off his pillow. He was fully clothed and laying on his stomach, the blankets of his bed beneath him. He hadn't even bothered to take off his sneakers. His hair was dirty and plastered to his pale face.
"Jesus Christ, dude, you look like shit."
Stan let his face drop back into his pillow.
"Fuck you, Kyle," he said, his voice muffled.
"No, I'm serious, are you okay?"
Stan rolled over and squinted at the ceiling light. "No, dude, I feel like shit."
Kyle sat carefully on the edge of the bed, pushing aside a discarded shirt and an empty chip bag. He put his head in his hands and sighed. "Goddammit, I was totally going to yell at you for bailing on me."
Stan scoffed. "Yeah, you probably still should. I completely forgot."
Kyle shook his head. "Nah, man. You're sick. Doesn't count."
"Yeah. Sure." Stan squinted his eyes tightly and rubbed his temple. "Goddamn headache."
"Do you have Aspirin?"
Stan shook his head, then winced. Kyle sighed.
"Of course not. I'll go to the drug store and pick some up for you, I guess. I'll be back in ten minutes, okay?"
Stan gave Kyle a thumbs up before rolling back over onto his stomach. Kyle rolled his eyes. Why was he doing this? Hadn't he just been completely pissed off? He didn't owe Stan this. Sharon probably had some painkillers somewhere if he asked. None of his thoughts stopped him from walking out the front door in the direction of the drug store, however.
The air was already colder than it was when Kyle had gotten to Stan's. It was darker, too, the sun finally dipping behind the mountains. Kyle wrapped his arms tightly around himself and shivered. He was seriously starting to regret not taking the time to grab his jacket before running out, especially now that his frustration had mostly cooled down.
Kyle kicked a rock on the sidewalk. It bounced against the concrete before rolling into the grass. He clenched his teeth. He hated himself for how quickly his anger had died, but the twist in his gut he had felt seeing how awful Stan looked was like amnesia. He was still pissed somewhere inside, but it felt unnecessary now, almost silly. Hell, he felt guilty for being angry. It no longer felt justified. He didn't have a right to be upset if Stan had missed out on his plans because he was sick.
Kyle sighed loudly. He was right. He liked Stan way too much. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stay angry with him.
A bell above the door jingled when Kyle pushed open the door of the drug store.
"Welcome," the cashier said half-heartedly, not looking up from the magazine he was reading or bothering to put out the cigarette he was huffing on and which was creating a cloud of acrid smoke around the check-out counter.
Kyle beelined to the painkillers and grabbed the pills. The cashier barely acknowledged him other than to take the cash Kyle gave him and trade it for a receipt.
"Uh, thanks," Kyle said as he walked out the door. The man only grunted in response.
Kyle opened the door. The bell jingled. Cold air bit at Kyle's face. He shivered as the door fell shut behind him, sealing away the warmth of the drug store. His fingers turned numb as they gripped the pill bottle tightly. He thought it might have been colder than it should have been. The sky was dark and starless, but the light of the moon shone brightly, even through a thin layer of clouds. Kyle shuffled down the sidewalk. He wished he could rub warmth into his bare arms, but it was difficult while holding the pills, so he held his hands close to his stomach instead, and let his shoulders shift forward, curling into what warmth he could find, eyes on the ground. He followed the familiar path by memory alone. His eyes never lifted from the sidewalk until he heard the sound of an animal whimpering.
Kyle looked around for the source of the noise. He was halfway to Stan's house. It was only a few blocks away. And it was dark. He wasn't even sure he could find whatever animal it was.
He heard the sound again.
It sounded scared.
He almost kept walking.
Stan wouldn't have kept walking.
Stan was insufferable. He was a mess. He was never on time. He didn't keep his promises.
But he was gentle. He hid it well, but he was gentle. He wouldn't have kept walking.
Kyle gritted his teeth and huffed. Fine. He strained his ears and listened, eyes searching through the dark. He followed the sound until he found it. It was some sort of dog, a big one, a husky or something. Its eyes were bright and wide with fear. It took a moment for Kyle to figure out what was wrong with it. Its leg was stuck in the fence. It looked like it had tried to scrape through the sloped dirt under it, but got stuck, and then panicked and was tangled more.
Kyle pushed his hair away from his face. Goddammit. The dog whimpered again. He definitely couldn't turn around now. Kyle crouched low and inched towards the dog. Its lip lifted in a snarl and a low growl rumbled through its throat.
"Hey, shhh…"
Kyle hoped his voice was low and soothing. He thought it might be, but when he inched closer still the dog freaked out, four legs scrambling and eyes wild.
"Goddammit, you're going to get hurt-"
The dog snarled again, baring long yellow teeth. Kyle's knees brushed the dirt
"Shh, calm down-"
Teeth snapped. Kyle's heart hammered. He thought he might have seen dark blood matting the dog's fur.
"I'm trying to help you, damnit!"
Kyle reached towards the dog's leg.
Sharp teeth clamped around his wrist.
Kyle screamed.