A/N: Alright, here we are, the next chapter! Special thanks to my friend Kyle for providing a suggestion for how Cartman wronged Kenny. That is a big help, thanks again! Also, just to give you folks a heads up, there might not be any updates from me until mid-January. The reason for this is that classes end for me this week, and I'll be going up to my parent's for the duration of my winter break. And regrettably, my mother doesn't have a computer, so my access to a computer will be sparse. I will work on the story during the vacation though, and if I get a chance, I'll sneak a chapter in before I show back up. Sorry for that! But enough of that; on with the story!

Chapter 4: Burden

"Okay, so I divided the polynomial and I got this. Does it look right?" Cartman leaned back slightly as Kyle circled around him and peered over his shoulder.

Kyle leaned in closer, his eyes rapidly scanning the marked up sheet of paper. "Well you don't have an x squared in the equation, so you need a 0 here," he remarked, jabbing the tip of his pencil at a spot among the mess of algebra.

Cartman groaned in frustration and tossed his pencil onto the paper. He had been getting tutored for nearly a week already. As hard as it was to pay attention to the actual lesson instead of studying Kyle's figure, he had to admit that he was steadily improving. His grades had started to increase - and the butterflies he got when he saw Kyle were beginning to fade. It seemed that even Kyle felt more at ease having Cartman less than a few feet away. The only person who was still adverse to the plan was Kyle's mother, bitchy as always. She would almost entirely ignore Cartman whenever he was in the house, though at least she didn't look like she was about to fry him with her Jew eye lasers. The remaining members of the Broflovski household, it was safe to say, held a guarded curiosity about Cartman's renewed presence in the house. One thing was obvious to Cartman though - his plan to befriend Kyle again was paying off in more ways than he had hoped.

"It's okay," Kyle said gently, reassuringly putting his hand on Cartman's shoulder. "For what it's worth, you're doing really well." The moment Kyle's hand touched Cartman's shoulder, he felt him instantly tense up. He quickly withdrew his hand, realizing his mistake. His student remained visibly tense. Kyle rolled his eyes and pushed his glasses back up onto his nose. Much to his surprise, Cartman had behaved - well, as much as he could behave. So far, no ludicrous schemes had come up and there seemed to be less conniving on the part of the husky teen. Of course he still made Jew jokes and was a complete self-centered bastard, but Kyle supposed that some things never changed. At least when there was a lesson, Cartman made somewhat of an attempt to stifle his anti-Semitic quips. With a halfhearted shrug, Kyle suggested, "Maybe we should call it a night."

Cartman's head whipped around. They were ending earlier than usual and the last thing he wanted was to spend less time with Kyle. It was hard enough that their only time alone together was punctuated by equations and variables. Glancing at the computer clock, he responded, "Well, it's only 7. Want to get something -" his throat caught momentarily "- to eat?" He started coughing. "Sorry," he feigned, "swallowed wrong."

Kyle blinked for a few moments. "Um, I," he stammered. "Uh, well, you see, I was supposed to meet up with Stan and Kenny in half an hour."

"Oh," Cartman said dejectedly. The room fell silent and Cartman's fingers began to fidget; Christ, he felt like he was turning into Butters. He shoved his hands into his pockets so Kyle wouldn't see.

Kyle looked Cartman up and down. For a moment, he thought he had glimpsed Cartman fidgeting. It certainly wasn't something you saw everyday and this was by far unusual behavior for Cartman. Either he had a plan rattling around in his brain or he was even more of a sorry case than he was after freshman year. Either one remained a distinct possibility in Kyle's mind. Well, what harm could it possibly be? "But, um, hold on," Kyle punctuated the silence, snatching his cell phone off of the desk and walking out briskly into the hall, turning the corner out of sight.

Cartman tilted his head so he could listen. No doubt he was calling Stan.

"Hey man," Cartman could hear Kyle in the hall. "No, yeah, I'm still coming. I wanted to ask you something though." A brief pause. "Okay, don't get thrown off by this but, could Cartman maybe tag along?"

There was a longer silence that began to border on awkward as Kyle started to pace up and down the hallway. His pacing brought him by his door several times, each time giving Cartman a glimpse of the Jew with his cell phone pressed hard against his ear, clutching the device a bit too tightly.

"No, I have not suffered any head trauma. No, I haven't been poisoned." His voice was growing more exasperated. "Oh for God's sake he does not have a gun to my head. Or any sort of weapon for that matter." Kyle paced back to the doorway and stood in it, eyeing Cartman up and down. "Well, he's Cartman. He still acts like Cartman, you know, consistently peppering his speech with anti-Semitic slurs, and still an obnoxious douchebag."

At that remark, Cartman glowered. Kyle ignored the look and appended his analysis with, "But otherwise harmless." More silence. "Yes, you can do that if he starts shit. Okay, you text that to Stan. Alright, see you then."

Kyle snapped the flip phone shut and walked over to his closet. "By some miracle, you're allowed to come. But Kenny says if you start anything, he has dibs on, and I quote, 'kicking his ass so hard that he loses a hundred pounds'."

Cartman rolled his eyes and simply inquired, "How the hell does Kenny have a cell phone? He's too fucking poor."

Kyle was digging in his closet for a shirt. "You assume I called his cell phone. He's got a phone at home too, fatass," he retorted.

"You just implied that he has one," Cartman pointed out.

Having found the shirt he was looking for, Kyle turned around and sighed, saying, "You know, just because someone's poor doesn't mean they can't make money to afford some things."

"Don't tell me prostitution is a job," Cartman scoffed, watching the other boy as he dropped the fresh shirt to his feet.

Kyle narrowed his eyes. "You know, I might be able to hold myself back from smacking your head off of the desk, but I can't guarantee that Kenny will be able. You better watch what you say tonight."

Cartman shook his head. "Yeah, yeah, I know."

In one swift motion, Kyle tugged his shirt off and tossed it onto his bed. His tangled red curls had been slightly ruffled in the process. Kyle's hands automatically flew up to the top of his head and began to undo the damage. Cartman's breath hitched. Standing in front of him, shirtless, was the person he desired more than anything. Kyle's bare chest expanded slowly as he inhaled. His form was slender, yet toned. His arms curved slightly at his biceps. Just above the waistline of his pants, which clung gently around his hips, the beginnings of a line of ginger hair could be seen.

Kyle stooped down to retrieve his fresh shirt and slipped it on. Just like that, the show was over. Cartman shut his mouth and plastered a scowl on his face by the time Kyle had refocused his gaze on his guest. Kyle raised an eyebrow at the bitter look on Cartman's face and grabbed his jacket off of the coat hanger it was on.

Slipping on the first sleeve of the jacket, he asked, "Ready to go, fatass?"

Cartman smirked. "Only if you're done primping your hair, kike."
-

"Argh, why the hell did I agree to let him come?" Kenny groaned. He expressed a look of disgust. "Dumbest thing I've done all week."

Stan, sitting in the booth across from Kenny, shifted uncomfortably. "Well, maybe he's changed, man," he offered.

Kenny shook his head in disagreement. "This is Cartman we're talking about."

Stan said, "He's human, like you and-" Kenny snorted "-me. Okay, maybe's he's a bad example of a human. But at least give him a chance. If Kyle invited him by his own volition, then he can't be that bad."

"Are you forgetting what he did?" Kenny spat.

"Of course I didn't forget. Sheesh, you act like I'm forgiving him for everything he did. I'm just giving him a second chance and you should too."

Silence blanketed the table for a moment. Stan propped his head up and looked out the window.

"Look," Kenny said, breaking the silence, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get pissed at you. I know Kyle has his reasons, it's just..."

"I don't blame you for being bitter," Stan said, letting Kenny's sentence hang. "What he did that summer was fucked up."

"It's not just that, it's everything else he's done. Not just during the summer - the whole time we've known him. Dealing with him is a burden."

Stan remained silent for a second before finally saying, "With a weight like his, it is a heavy burden."

The faintest smile crept onto Kenny's face. It remained there for only a brief moment before disappearing again as his mind wandered to a time where he was younger; a time where he was caught in a war between friends, desperate to avoid any casualties in the crossfire and seeking whatever sense of stability he could get. Years of experiencing Cartman's stupidity had numbed his mind to the consequences of his friend's actions, and with that numbness came a certain patience for putting up with his harebrained schemes. The summer after freshman year tested the limits of that patience.

He had already managed to spend the first few weeks of his vacation dividing his time between a quarreling Stan, Kyle, and Cartman. He felt as if he were in a field fraught with mines and he made it his personal duty to defuse each and every one. He believed that if he could play his cards right, things would go back to being normal. And for a time, it seemed that way. Amends were made and the next, the gang was back together, hanging out like they had in the prior years. After all of the drama that preceded, Kenny felt that things were better. But he was wrong.

A part of Kenny always knew that Cartman would betray him in some way. That foresight, unfortunately, didn't soften the blow when the inevitability became reality. He hadn't actually been there when it happened, but he wished he had been. He had just gotten home from school when his sister Karen stumbled through the front door. Kenny glanced at her and before he could even fully process what had happened, his legs were carrying him to her. She was bleeding all over. Blood was caked onto her face, with intricate lines being created by the tears rolling down her cheeks. Her right eye was swollen shut. She lurched into her arm and Kenny noticed that her left leg was twisted at an odd angle. Broken, no doubt. He swooped her immediately into the bathroom to examine her wounds in a better light. As he washed blood away, the story came tumbling out: attacked on the way home by kids from school, cornered her in an alleyway. She screamed for help, but no help came. And then he walked by - Kenny's fat friend. She cried out to him for help. He stopped for a moment and looked before continuing on his way.

To make matters worse, Karen had to be taken to the hospital for treatment. This meant that the McCormick family would have to pay a rather large bill for medical expenses. As always, money was tight in the McCormick household, but after that, things became a lot tighter. To deal with the burgeoning financial difficulties, the McCormicks occasionally restored to less legal methods of securing money. When the cops came by to ask about the attack, Kenny pointed them in the direction of Cartman, hoping that he would at least spill a second-hand account of what happened. But that was too hopeful. Cartman said he hadn't seen anything. Karen's attackers were never apprehended. Justice was never dealt - not officially, at least. After that, Kenny, Kyle, and Stan vowed to never associate with Cartman again. Up until now, they had remained true to their word.

"Hey, here they come," Stan announced, snapping Kenny back to reality. He looked out the window and saw Kyle walking down the sidewalk with the most hated person in South Park in tow. 'Hehe, in tow,' Kenny chuckled to himself. Cartman was too heavy to be towed. Kenny made a mental note to remember that one. "Just give him a chance," Stan said, giving Kenny a stern look.

"Don't worry, I will. But," Kenny said, starting to slide out of the booth, "I'm sitting with you before Kyle can. I don't want to sit next to tubby."

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose as he scooted over and made room.
-

Cartman and Kyle slowed their pace as they approached the glass door of the diner. Kyle swallowed hard. What had he just done? Inviting Cartman to come along was the dumbest thing he'd done all year.

Cartman rushed slightly ahead of Kyle, beating him to the door. He yanked it open, waved his friend through, and remarked, "Kikes before Reichs."

Kyle shook his head in disapproval. "That was horrible. It didn't make any sense," he said as he passed by Cartman and entered the diner.

"Fuck you," Cartman responded under his breath.

The two teens sauntered coolly up to the booth where their friends were waiting, ignoring the awkwardness pervading the situation. Stan and Kenny looked up as Kyle and Cartman reached the head of the table and stood there.

A few seconds of silence passed before Kyle greeted, "Hey guys." The two seated teens resounded the greeting as Kyle slid into the booth across from them. In his head, Kyle was screaming at Kenny. It was enough that Kyle had to put up with being near Cartman for the tutoring, but now he had to put up with it here again. He knew Kenny had moved - the cheap plastic covering the seat was still warm. Cartman dropped his body onto the seat, sending a surge of pressure through the foamy cushioning and propelling Kyle up an inch. He slowly sank down, watching the pained expressions on the faces of his friends.

"Hey fag-" Cartman began to say, but found his speech abruptly muffled by a green mitten over his mouth. He glanced over, his eyes following the hand down the outstretched arm and up to Kyle's face.

"Consider your next words carefully," Kyle whispered harshly. He removed his hand with trepidation.

"Hey guys," came the rectified greeting.

"Hey," Kenny and Stan replied simultaneously while avoiding his gaze, their voices flat.

Silence blanketed the table again. Kyle looked around. Stan was busy looking at the floor, Kenny's head was twisted so much in an effort to look out the window that he might as well snap his own neck, and Cartman... Cartman was looking at him. Kyle sighed. This was an unmitigated disaster. Obviously, the source of the tension was Cartman. Maybe if he could get the Nazi blimp parked next to him to drum up a conversation, things might ease up a bit. He elbowed Cartman in the ribs. Cartman grunted and shot an ugly look at him. Kyle put on his best irritated look and mouthed, 'Say something!'

'God damn Jew,' Cartman grumbled to himself. "So, any of you guys played the new Modern Warfare game?"

"Mm, yeah," Stan said, picking his head up slowly. "Kickass game."

Another pause.

"...You ever play online?" Cartman asked. God damn it, if the Jew wanted a conversation so much, he should at least pitch in.

"Sometimes, yeah. But mostly I play with Kenny."

"Gay," Kenny coughed.

"I meant the game!" Stan said a little loud, pinching the bridge of his nose again.

"Oh admit it, Stan," Kenny said, licking his lips. "You just want to play with my joystick." He waggled his eyebrows.

Cartman cut in. "The only person who wants to play with your 'joystick', poor boy, is yourself."

For a moment, Kenny felt like screaming something insulting back, but something stopped him - Cartman's voice lacked any hostility. It was a joke. "I get more than you, Lord of the Lard," Kenny retaliated, his face lightening up a bit. As much as he hated to admit it, he missed this. He missed the banter. For some reason, he had missed Cartman.

"I get plenty, and I don't have to pay for it either. And I'm not fat, god damn it!"

"Yeah, yeah, we get it," Kenny said, waving Cartman off. "You're big boned."

"Bigger boned than you," Cartman spat.

Kenny smirked. "Is that a challenge?"

As the night wore on, the atmosphere became progressively more relaxed. Stan interjected himself regularly into the ruckus, though he couldn't help but think of how long it had been since all four boys had been together. Had it really been almost two and a half years? He counted months off in his head. Yep, two and a half years since any of them had had any meaningful dialogue with Cartman. Cartman hadn't really changed at all, that went without saying. Nevertheless, Stan felt that things were complete again. Before, any time he was out, it felt like there was a piece of the puzzle missing. Sure, Cartman was an obnoxious asshole who was more than prone to bouts of political incorrectness, but he had been there since the beginning. Now that senior year was here, it was only fitting that he was present for the end. Stan cast his glance at Kenny, who was now trying to steal French fries from the plate of food that Cartman had just ordered. He shifted his view to Kyle, who was watching the two boys quarrel over food. Kyle's eyes met his, and they shared a brief smile.

Kyle turned his attention back to Kenny and Cartman. The blonde had finally managed to retrieve a handful of fries, breaking through Cartman's defenses. He snickered as Cartman bellowed for his food and Kenny retorted that Cartman didn't need any more food. He couldn't help but smile inwardly at the spectacle. Even though Cartman was still as abrasive as ever, he had to admit that some small part of him had missed having him around. Even Kenny, who had vowed that Cartman would answer for his inaction, seemed to be having a good time.

Kyle looked at Cartman as the boy took another bite out of his cheeseburger, still arguing with Kenny. He studied Cartman, tracing his facial features with his eyes and scanning up and down his figure. Cartman certainly wasn't as fat as he had been at earlier ages, though he still carried enough bulk for it to be noticeable beneath his clothing. Cartman looked over at Kyle in the midst of his argument. Their gazes met and remained fixed on each other. Kyle stared at Cartman's eyes - the first time in years he had gotten a good look at them. Chocolate brown eyes. Kyle quickly broke the staring contest and glanced out of the window. There was something about his eyes...

"Hey Kyle," Kenny said. "Who would win in a fight, Wendy or Cartman?"

"I'd kick that ho's ass," Cartman bragged. "Right, Jew?"

"Uh," Kyle said, laughing a bit nervously, "I think Wendy would win."

"Think?" Stan said. "Come on dude, you know my girlfriend, she's a psychotic bitch sometimes."

"That's for sure," Kenny muttered. "Speaking of Wendy, thanks for not showing up to our usual nightly gathering last week."

Stan shrugged. "I couldn't help it, I had a date with her. You know, one of these days you'll be the one on a date and I'll be the one complaining."

"You'd only be complaining because I provide the entertainment," Kenny said.

Cartman laughed. "You're just jealous that Stan has a booty call."

"Oh so we're going there again?" Kenny asked. "Alright then. How about you, Cartman. What's your fascinating love life like? Pursuing anyone? Or, dare I ask, dating someone?"

"Like I'd tell you, poor boy," Cartman answered.

Kenny prodded more. "You still hang around Butters. Wh-"

"Oh don't fucking start," Cartman cut him off. "Butters wouldn't know the difference between a dick and a vagina if they both smacked him in the face."

Kyle stifled a laugh.

Cartman turned to him and asked, "What are you laughing at, Jew boy? Want to share some details of your love life too?"

Kenny laughed, "Oh don't get him started. He's got the biggest crush on-"

Almost instantaneously, Stan's hands flew out in an attempt to cover Kenny's mouth. Kyle lurched across the table, both arms extended towards Kenny's face. Stan and Kyle's hands met at the same moment and piled up against Kenny's lips before any more words could come out. As he realized what he was about to say, Kenny lifted his hands up and added them to the pile of paws stopping his speech.

Cartman raised an eyebrow. "The fuck?"

Confident that Kenny wasn't going to accidentally say anything damaging, Stan pried his hands loose. Kenny and Kyle removed theirs too, and Kyle returned to sitting in the booth.

Cartman looked at all of them. "What the fuck was that about? Who does the Jew have a crush on?"

"Nobody," Kyle snapped. "Kenny was just being a dick."

"Didn't look lik-" Cartman started.

"Cartman!" Kyle barked. "Forget it." He waved his hand dismissively and knocked over Cartman's soda in doing so. The cool fluid spilled over the table, flowing over the edge and onto Cartman's shirt.

"Jesus Christ, Jew! What was that for?" Cartman yelped, jumping out of the seat.

Kyle rolled his eyes. "It was a fucking accident!" He looked Cartman in the eyes again. This time they looked like he had always known them - cold, focused on hiding his internal clockwork.

"It's winter, I'm going to freeze in this shirt when I go home," Cartman griped, flopping his arms at his side.

"You are not going to freeze, fatass," Kyle hissed, the agitation leaking through his voice. But if it makes any difference, I've got an oversize shirt at home that will probably fit you. You can wear that if it'll get you to stop your whining."

Stan winced at the conflict unfolding. "It's getting late anyway, guys. We should probably head home," Stan said.

"Yeah," Kenny agreed. "Plus I've got work tomorrow."

Kyle looked at Stan, and then at Cartman. "Yeah, alright. Are we still getting together tomorrow, Stan?"

"Of course. I'll text you when I wake up tomorrow," Stan affirmed.
-

The four of them exchanged their goodbyes in front of the diner. After Kenny and Stan had disappeared into the darkness of the night, Kyle looked at Cartman and nodded. They both began the trek to Kyle's house. Kyle's mind was preoccupied remembering Cartman's eyes. He had never really noticed their color before, and seeing an emotion from them that was positive was unusual to say the least. They had looked lighter, like he had found some solace in the world for once. Kyle tried to shove these thoughts out of his head. What the hell was he thinking? This was Cartman. He sure as hell shouldn't have been considering his eyes.

Cartman watched Kyle as they walked. The ginger's head was tilted down toward the ground. The look on his face told Cartman that he was thinking hard about something. Exactly what he was thinking about, Cartman didn't have the slightest idea. Maybe it had to do with his mystery crush. He had a burning desire to ask Kyle about that, find out who it was. Probably some dumb bitch that he had met through Kenny. The idea that Kyle could be in love with someone else made Cartman's stomach churn, threatening to expel the food he had eaten. Even though he was closer than he had been before, he felt farther from his goal than he had ever felt. Throughout all of high school, Cartman had never known Kyle to publically date someone.

When they had finally returned to the Broflovski house, Kyle broke his silence and said, "I expected you to be a lot worse tonight." He opened the door and let Cartman in.

"Was that supposed to be a compliment?" Cartman asked as Kyle followed him in and shut the door.

"I guess," Kyle shrugged, removing his arm from the sleeve of his jacket. "Come on," he said after he had finally gotten the jacket off. "The shirt's upstairs."

Kyle led Cartman upstairs into the now-familiar setting of his room. He opened the closet and dove in again to seek the garment. "My mom got this for me one Hanukkah, but it was too big," he said with his head still buried in clothes. "I've only worn it a few times, but it should fit you. Ah, here it is."

He pulled a green flannel shirt out of the closet.

"Flannel?" Cartman asked, disappointed.

"I didn't say I was going to give you a world-class makeover."

Cartman snatched the shirt away and held it. "Can I use your bathroom?"

"Dude, it's a shirt. Just put it on."

Cartman swore. He really didn't want Kyle to see his body. Truthfully, it felt a little bit embarrassing. As quick as he could, he ripped his wet shirt off, tossed it to the floor, and jerked Kyle's shirt on. It was a little snug, but it would do the job. "Thanks, I guess," Cartman said.

Kyle shrugged. "No problem. Hey, I'll text you when our next lesson is."

Cartman nodded. "Yeah. Thanks." He turned and walked for the door. As he reached the frame, he stopped momentarily. "Good night, Kahl," he said, scurrying away before he could hear the boy's response.

Kyle blinked. Had he heard that right? He shook his head. "I must be more tired than I thought."