A.N.: I know this is short as hell, I'm sorry! I kinda just rushed this out because I've been meaning to practice my writing. I felt especially motivated to do this today since I just started school and one of my classes happens to be creative writing, so hopefully I'll be able to really improve my writing as time goes on.

Kyle didn't think he could hate anyone any more than he hated Eric Cartman.

He sat with one leg tucked underneath himself and stared out the window at the torrent of rain. He tapped a blue marker against his thigh lazily and tried to keep from screaming when someone touched his hair again. It didn't make any sense that he wasn't allowed to wear his hat. Or shoes, or his bracelet Stan gave him. None of this made any sense at all. He wasn't crazy or anything, he sure as fuck didn't belong in a mental hospital. Yet, there he was, sitting in the day room as the other adolescents talked among themselves and watched Netflix.

He knew the other kids were normal… ish, just like him. But whoever thought getting a bunch of depressed and angry teenagers and making them stay together was a good idea was an idiot. The room was chaos and the staff was too busy playing on their iPhones to notice anything.

He tried to distance himself, tried to pretend he was somewhere else. It wasn't easy, but after a couple of minutes he felt himself drifting away…

"Kyle?"

He looked toward the locked double doors and saw a petite woman standing there with a clipboard. They locked eyes and she smiled the same overly happy smile that everyone working there had plastered on their faces. It made him ball his fists. "You have a visitor, hon." She said sweetly. Kyle tilted his head and quirked a brow. He wasn't supposed to have any visitors that weren't family, and his mom had already said that for the entire week he'd be staying there that she and his father wouldn't visit him so they didn't 'hinder the growing process'. They wouldn't even let Ike come by.

Kyle followed the woman as she swiped her key card and opened the doors, leading him down a hallway to the cafeteria and told him to take a seat anywhere he'd like. Kyle chose to sit at a table on the opposite end of the room, right next to a window overlooking the nearby pond. He got distracted watching the rain hit the murky pond water, so he didn't immediately notice when someone sat across from him.

"Hey,"

Kyle groaned. "What are you doing here, Cartman?" Of course he'd be the one to find a way to see Kyle despite the rules supposedly barring him from doing so.

Cartman put a hand over his chest. "Ouch, Kyle, is that any way to talk to your boyfriend?" Perhaps it wasn't, but Kyle didn't care much at that moment.

Kyle resisted the urge to reach across the table and strangle him. "You got me put in a mental hospital, fatass!"

"Actually, it's a behavioral clinic." Cartman corrected, smirking. "And it's not my fault that you Jews have such a short temper."

Kyle gritted his teeth. "I really fucking hate you."

The corners of Cartman's mouth twitched downward for just a second before he chuckled. "What's it like in here, hm? They put you in a strait jacket and a padded cell, or what?"

Kyle slumped down in his seat. "No, it's nothing like that." The two lapsed into awkward silence for a moment and Kyle took it as an opportunity to look over the larger male. His left eye was dark and puffy and his swollen cheek stood out clearly. He had three diagonal scratches on the other one, and Kyle bit his lip, trying to remember at what point he had tried to claw Cartman's eyes out.

He couldn't see Cartman's arms or torso, but if his own body was any indication then his boyfriend's was littered in bruises and minor cuts. He almost wanted to laugh at how stupid this whole thing was. He couldn't even remember what the fucking argument they had was about; no doubt it was something trivial. Tension had been building up between them for an eternity it felt like. Being in a relationship was much harder than they had expected.

"I'm sorry." Kyle mumbled. He really was, but he still hated to be the one to apologize first. Sure, he'd hurt Cartman more than Cartman had hurt him, but he wasn't the one that got institutionalized.

"Me too." Cartman admitted, ducking down to hide his face behind his hair as much as he could.

They'd only been dating for a few months, hadn't really acknowledged their feeling for each other that much. They knew they cared about each other really deeply, and had for a long time. Neither of them were the type to talk about how they were feeling though, at least not to each other. They didn't want to let the other in too much, in fear that everything could come crashing down. It was silly to be honest, but they just didn't completely trust each other. It led to probably a million arguments.

They'd try to end their fights as quickly as they'd started them because they didn't know how to handle bickering in their still fragile and new relationship. To be fair, whenever Stan and Wendy got into a disagreement, the two broke up. With as much as Kyle and Cartman fought, if they had a similar relationship they would have broken up the first day. They used to love pushing each other's buttons and now they were too afraid to.

Now they'd let their anger and frustrations bubble up and over the top, and now Kyle was in a fucking hospital for the mentally disordered because he apparently had anger issues.

"You know that I didn't mean it when I called you… that word you hate." Cartman said. Kyle nodded.

"I know. God this is fucking stupid." He rested his elbows on the table and covered his face with his hands, hoping the week would fly by and that he would be home before he knew it.

"Kahl," he sang, trying to elicit a smile.

"Say it right or don't say it at all, fatass." Kyle snapped. He looked up to see Cartman with a genuinely remorseful expression. He almost felt bad for yelling at him. Almost.

"Sorry. Kyle. I just, I don't know what I'm supposed to say, here." Cartman shrugged.

"I hate when you get like this." Kyle said, because it was easier to pin their relationship problems on Cartman than it was to admit that it wasn't a healthy relationship to begin with.

"Look, we can't change what happened, alright?" Cartman grabbed Kyle's hand. "Just suffer through the week; it's all you can do, all right? And then, if you want…" he trailed off. Kyle squeezed his hand reassuringly. "If you want to still be with me, we can try to work on some stuff."

Cartman smiled, but Kyle could tell that he was nervous about what his answer would be. "Of course I still wanna go out with you, dumbass. I care about you for some unfathomable reason." He smirked. Cartman kicked him underneath the table.

Cartman opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the woman from before announcing that visiting time was over. "Wow that was like no time at all." Kyle complained, standing up. Cartman stood, slower, glaring at the clock as if he could will it to go backwards.

"Here," he said, thrusting something into Kyle's arms quickly. Kyle held it out a bit so he could examine what the object was.

"What the fuck is this?" he asked. It appeared to be an unrealistically large stuffed rat.

"I heard that you're allowed to have a 'comfort item' while you're here. Like a pillow or whatever. So I got you that." Cartman turned away, but not before Kyle observed his cheeks turning a light shade of pink.

"Why?" he questioned.

"It's just a reminder." Kyle didn't need to ask 'of what?' "A reminder that you're my little Jew rat."

"I fucking hate you Cartman." Kyle growled. He was conscious of the woman standing across the room waiting to lead Cartman out to the front desk. He pulled Cartman into a hug and smiled very slightly when he felt Cartman's lips press against his neck.

"I'll see you in a week." Cartman said, loudly, to show that he was nearly ready to go.

"Tell the guys I said hi." Kyle breathed, feeling his sense of despair from earlier washing over him again. He really couldn't believe he would have to stay while Cartman got to leave. If either of them belonged there it was him.

He sat down dejectedly and waited for the woman to come back and escort him to the adolescent day room. Kyle held the stuffed animal at eye level. It had huge beady black eyes and was brown with patches of black. It wasn't the most appealing toy he'd ever seen. Still, he held it close to his chest and sighed. He didn't think he could forgive anyone any easier than he could forgive Eric Cartman.

A.N. 2.0: I hope you guys liked it. Please review if you have any questions or comments or would like to tell me how I can improve! xx