Now, things were about to start tumbling downhill. When were they ever going to slow down? That was a lost answer Stan and Kyle couldn't find or get ahold of. The truth was out, Randy had teamed up with Kyle's uncle. The worst to happen somehow happened and neither one of the boys had a clue what to do. Things weren't going great already, so for this to add on didn't make a damn thing feel better or right. Stan hung up the phone immediately and bashed the side of his fist against the cushion of the passenger door. Kyle was quiet. His mouth was dry with no words trying to come out. His feelings weren't ready to let him cry; he prayed that maybe those tears would stay hidden for awhile longer. This wasn't some ordinary movie conflict, it was so much more because of what happened to Kyle Broflovski when he was just a baby.

The hit strived to make thin lines of pain go up and down as well as throughout Stan's fist. He knew that was a dumb thing to do. He was so upset and didn't know how else to get out the sudden rush of anger and shock from his body. Lately, the two had been pretty happy. No arguments, no self-harm, and no drama. When summer began, so did a crisis that soon ended; Stan's brain had twisted itself in the wrong position but then twisted itself back to reality once the medicine the doctor had given him wore off. The GPS continued to direct Kyle left and right. He drove with gripped hands and tense muscles; he drove with furious eyes and settled lips; he drove with a brain full of knowledge he didn't want to have. Stan and Kyle could both feel that this road trip-getaway was going to get hectic, it was an obvious truth. The long life road these two walked was so bumpy that they sometimes wished they would've gotten the opportunity to walk down a different one.

Nobody in the car had said anything for a good hour or more. Neither one of them knew what to say. Kyle noticed a rest stop and pulled into the parking lot. He shut the car off and fell back against the driver's seat. Stan glanced at his boyfriend, "I'm not even hungry anymore." "Yeah," Kyle paused, "Me either." Stan knew that Kyle's train of thought was running a million miles per minute, he could relate in a way that wasn't too exact. If there was a comparison to share, it was that both boys were upset and shocked; that's it, that's all that could be compared. Stan had never been kidnapped by his own uncle, he'd never been used for sex, he'd never been looked at as the person he wasn't. The only one who had to deal with all that traumatic life drama was Kyle.

The redhead had zoned out of reality. Flashbacks of being locked up in that small room were beating up his brain. He remembered the constant dimly-lit room because the lightbulb of the small fake porcelain lamp was changed very rarely; the bed he tossed and turned in had white sheets and a dark green and black blanket with a plaid print; the blanket wasn't the softest but Kyle ended up getting used to it; his pillow was puffy and rectangular like any other pillow. There were many times where he wanted to go outside and play but was told it was a dangerous world out there. The door to that tiny bedroom was always locked; Kyle's uncle had put the lock on the side of the door not facing the inside of the room. A very young Kyle would bash his knuckles against the wooden door, begging to be let out. Meals were brought to him inside that room, school was taught inside that room, his life was a torturous fiasco inside that room. Kyle's uncle had always kept a close eye on him, a very close eye.

There were times where Kyle would bang on the door and yell at the top of his lungs too loudly, so for that, he'd get punished. He remembered feeling so dizzy and weak sometimes that he wouldn't feel like himself for a couple days. It wasn't just getting hit, there was kicking too; weapons were involved here and there. Kyle's uncle had a baseball bat and would sometimes shove the end of it into Kyle's stomach; he'd then go grab a glass from the kitchen cupboard and smash it; he'd tell Kyle to sit still and then he would sink a broken shard of glass into his arm or his shoulder or his leg, it always varied. Kyle learned curse words starting at the age of 4 years old. His uncle always swore when he was pissed or when he was drunk. Being blackout drunk was a hobby of Kyle's uncle. One night in early July, a few night before Kyle's birthday, he tried to escape. His uncle had left the bedroom door cracked open on accident; Kyle took advantage of that and crept down the hall on his little feet slowly.

When the loud footsteps came into earshot, he darted down the rest of the hall and latched his hands onto the doorknob. Kyle's uncle snatched him up by the back of his green shirt collar and hauled him back into the house. He was punished for that and suffered through it like every other time that had left and would come back sooner than he would imagine. Stan watched Kyle's lower lip quiver and watched his eyes water. "Ky." He called out his nickname in a normal volume. Kyle controlled his quivering lip to give Stan his undivided attention, "Yeah?" "We don't have to eat if you don't want to." Stan had to repeat that because he said that while Kyle had zoned out into his past world of pain. "We'll regret it later if we don't." Kyle responded leaving his spot in the driver's seat. Stan pushed himself up from his spot in the passenger seat and walked with Kyle into the building. "Chinese?" Stan spotted a Chinese food place over in the back of the building.

Kyle nodded slowly; he looked as if he had zoned out all over again; his facial expression called out for a distraction. Stan patted Kyle's back twice and then retrieved money from his pocket so he'd be ready to hand over the money when him and Kyle ordered. "It's on me." Stan told the boy getting distracted by his heinous yet eventful past. "Huh? Oh, yeah, thanks." Kyle really wasn't getting any closure; if he was going to be real, he never did get any closure from his experiences as a child; his childhood was one big scare that had such a giant number of stories that you could call the collection of them a library. Closure was a long tunnel that never ended for Kyle Broflovski and he always prayed that one day out of nowhere, it would.

Stan paid the cashier for the food and grabbed Kyle's hand to lead him over to the side to wait for their food. He knew what kind of Chinese food Kyle liked; he had brought it up one day and they mentioned what type of Chinese food they liked best. It wasn't random because the two boys were trying to decide what to have for dinner that night and Chinese food had sounded really good at the time. "Thanks for the food." Kyle said. "No problem." Stan kissed Kyle on the lips, wishing he could leave his own lips there to distract his boyfriend with something positive. There was more to Kyle's past that Stan was not informed of or about; something had really screwed his head on the wrong way; it curiously bothered Stan, bothered him deviously. A few minutes later, a woman set a tray of the food Stan ordered on the counter top. "Thank you." Stan said taking the tray. He carried the tray and found a clean table to sit down with Kyle and eat at.

Kyle wrapped a few of the lo mein noodles on his plate around his black plastic fork; he chewed slowly but thoroughly; his appetite wasn't at its highest but he knew he needed to eat. With everything going through his mind in such a rapid repeating cycle, it was hard to have even the slightest bit of an appetite. Out of the two cell phones between the boys, it was Kyle's cell phone to yell out his ringtone; Sheila was asking Kyle to accept her call; she prayed desperately that she'd get to hear his voice, as well as get a clear enough message to know he was safe and okay. "I'm fine, mom." Kyle answered with that. "Thank god. Where are you, Kyle?" "Going somewhere to be safe with the one I love. I'm almost 18, I know what I'm doing, mom. You keep everyone else safe. I'll check in with you. Love you." Sheila wanted to know where he was, but Kyle had turned off the location services on his cell phone so she had no such luck.

"Kyle I would like to know where you are, we were all worried." Sheila explained. "I will be safe, I promise. We're at a rest stop eating right now. I'll call you before I go to bed tonight." "Kyle-" "Mom, just keep our family safe, okay? I couldn't of been away from Stan for however long you were gonna have us all go away for. We have money and we're staying in a hotel tonight. I love you." Kyle didn't want to have to hang up the phone so abruptly, but he knew that question after question would be asked if he kept talking to his mom. "She mad?" Stan wondered aloud. "Didn't seem like it, just worried." Kyle answered while getting more noodles wrapped around his fork.

"Do you wanna talk about anything? You don't have to?" When they first met, Kyle was the one asking that type of question, not Stan. "I don't know." Kyle shrugged with a drowsy look on his face. His drowsiness carried an expression of annoyance by what was going on; he thought his uncle would be gone and out of his life forever, but his boyfriend's dad teamed up with him to get the ultimate revenge on both Stan and Kyle. They say there in the building, eating their food, and wondering what would create another bump in their already-bumpy road. "We can stay away from home for as long as you need to. I can get a job out in Colorado Springs or something." Stan offered. "You're sweet, but the hotel would get too expensive to pay for every night. We'll need to go back at some point." Kyle kept searching for the brighter side of the situation, but kept losing it when he thought he had caught it at last. The building was beginning to get crowded; it was as if a bus had just let off a bunch of people to eat; at least that's what it had looked and seemed like. The boys finished up and headed back out on the road with the GPS announcing directions every so often.

Stan was the one in the driver's side this time and Kyle took the free spot in the passenger seat. Music somehow brought a bit of high spirit to Stan and Kyle; they found songs they could agree on like Eminem; Kyle had said in the beginning of the two getting to know each other that he liked Eminem as did Stan. "You think if we never met, we'd be the same people we are now?" Kyle asked  out of genuine interested curiosity. "No way, you made me a better person." Stan replied. Kyle grinned, "You too." as to say that Stan made him a better person as well. The two continued riding off down the road until they arrived at Colorado Springs, many lefts and rights helped get them there. Without each other, they didn't feel protected. It was said a long time ago that Kyle's uncle would find and get Kyle again, that of course was said by himself while getting shoved into the back of a police car. Stan would do whatever he could to keep his other half safe. He couldn't be a better person without him, or at least that's what he thought. Wherever Kyle's uncle was, he would try his best to get to his nephew no matter what obstacle got in the way.