South Park Fan Fiction ❯ Hostage ❯ Back at Home ( Chapter 5 )

I wanted to say thanks to Griffen `Poody' Maxwell for reviewing. It's good to know somebody's liking this thing. And this one is a little short. Sorry.

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Chapter #5: Back at Home

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Looking miserable, Stan sighed heavily and slumped over in his seat. He and Kenny were in the local Shakey's, not really doing anything and bored out of their minds. “I'm so bored,” he complained. Next to him was an empty plate, full of crumbs, and in the middle of the table was the last of the pizza the two of them had shared, just sitting there going cold.

Kenny propped his head up in a hand and made an absentminded noise, not really listening to his friend as he watched the couple of cute girls over by the wall. He was half-heartedly thinking about abandoning Stan to his boredom to try to see if he could maybe score a little. Maybe that would cure his own boredom.

“Man, where's Cartman when you need him?” Stan continued to complain, not noticing that Kenny really could care less about what he was saying. “He was always getting into something.”

The girls standing up to leave, Kenny threw out all plans and turned back to Stan. “He called me yesterday,” he said mildly, as if this was normal.

Stan blinked and looked up, curious. “Yeah? Why?”

“Wanted to brag some more about him getting into some nice school out of state and me being too poor to go anywhere but South Park.”

“Yeah. That sounds like him,” Stan grumbled, sitting up and crossing his arms over his chest, remembering. “Lucky bastard.”

“Where's Kyle?” Kenny asked dully, tracing shapes with one finger on the wooden tabletop.

Looking frustrated, Stan shrugged. “Who knows? I called him but he didn't pick up. I think he's off somewhere with Christophe.” Saying this, Stan made a face.

“You still don't like him?” Kenny asked, looking up from his shapes.

“Eh, he's okay.” Stan shrugged, looking down at the table. “I just don't like how much time Kyle spends with him. You'd think they were connected at the hip or something.”

Kenny snorted. “Look who's talking.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Just, didn't you two spend, like, all of last week together? And most of the week before that? And then you had that project in Chemistry so you spent another week doing that. And—

“Alright, alright,” Stan said, waving his hands to stop the flow of words, “So maybe Kyle's not ignoring me. Shut up. Either way, he is now.”

“I know,” Kenny said, suddenly getting a mischievous look on his face. “Why don't we go over there and break up their little love fest. Maybe we'll be lucky and catch them in the middle of something. Kyle's so hot when he's flustered.”

“Dude. Really,” Stan said, giving the blond a disgusted look. “Shut up about Kyle being hot. He's Kyle.”

“I know,” Kenny said, a lecherous smile growing on his face, “That's the point. He's fucking hot. And Christophe's not too bad either. What I wouldn't give to see them go at it.”

“Uh,” Stan said and looked away, looking even more disgusted. “Dude. Please. Now I'm gonna be picturing them together for the rest of the day and I don't think my stomach can take it.”

Kenny laughed at him. “You are way too straight, man. You don't know what you're missing.”

Stan just shook his head, trying his hardest to keep the images from coming into his mind. “Come on,” he finally said when this turned out to be harder than he'd thought. “Let's just go see if they're home.”

“Let me just get a take-out box for this,” Kenny said, gesturing at the pizza in the middle of the table.

“Whatever, man.”

.

 

Stan and Kenny got to Kyle and Christophe's apartment and were surprised to find it surrounded in police tape and curious onlookers

“OK people, move along,” Officer Barbrady said, trying to clear the area of the curious people who usually flock to crime scenes. “Nothing to see here.”

“Excuse me,” Stan said, trying to get past the group of people blocking his way. “Excuse me, sir?” he called as he got to the front of the crowd.

“Yes?” Officer Barbrady answered, only half-paying attention. “Hey!” he said suddenly, turning on one of the people in the crowd. “You don't go near that tape.”

“Can you tell us what happened here?” Stan asked loudly, still trying to get the old cop's attention.

“No. No, there's nothing to see,” Officer Barbrady replied, making a shooing motion. “Move along now.”

“Hey, man,” Stan said, standing his ground. He wasn't going anywhere without some answers. “Our friend lives here. What the hell's going on?” Kenny backed him up, his blue eyes narrowing.

Now interested, Officer Barbrady turned to them. “Which one's your friend—the victim or the boyfriend?”

“I don't know,” Stan said, “Which one's which? Our friend's name is Kyle.”

“You mean, Brof - Brof- Officer Barbrady looked down, having trouble remembering the name. “How do you say that kid's name?” he mumbled to himself, “Broflaski?” Thinking he'd gotten the right name, Officer Barbrady looked up at Stan and Kenny and nodded. “Broflaski. That kid's the victim.”

“Broflovski. And what do you mean he's the victim?” Stan demanded anxiously, “What happened?”

Officer Barbrady quickly summed up the situation. “Kidnapping. The boyfriend's nowhere in sight, so we think it might be him.”

Kenny looked shocked and a little confused. “Christophe?” Then, frowning, Kenny shook his head. “No way, man. Christophe'd never do that.”

Officer Barbrady turned of Kenny. “You know the boyfriend?”

“Yeah, I know him,” Kenny said defiantly. “And he'd never kidnap Kyle.” Thinking this over again and remembering a certain incident, Kenny amended that statement. “Well okay, there was that one time he took Kyle on a surprise trip to the Bahamas without telling anyone, but other then that no. He'd never kidnap Kyle.”

“Well, then you must not know him as well as you think. That boy's a dangerous criminal, you hear?” Officer Barbrady told Kenny intently, “If you see him you send him straight to me. Don't be going to any heroics and try to take him on yourself.”

“I somehow doubt Christophe will attack us,” Stan said drolly.

Officer Barbrady now turned to him and said, very self-importantly, “You just trust me. Barbrady knows what he's talking about. That boy's Dangerous with a capital D.”

“Riiiiight,” was all Stan replied, rolling his eyes and turning away. “C'mon dude,” he said to Kenny. “Maybe we can ask Kyle's mom if she knows what's going on.”

Kenny nodded and turned to follow Stan out of the apartment building, pushing past the group of people still trying to look past the police tape.

“Hey!” they heard Officer Barbrady say as they were walking away. “I said move along, people. Nothing to see here.”

 

Ding - dong. Ding - dong - ding.

“Hi, Mrs. Broflovski,” Stan said as the woman opened the door to her house. She was dressed normally, but clutched in her hand was a white handkerchief and her eyes were suspiciously red. “We just found out about Kyle and wanted to know what happened. Are you okay?” Stan asked, noticing her red eyes.

“Oh, you're such sweet boys,” Sheila replied then stepped back to allow them to enter. “Come on in. I'll tell you what happened.”

Kenny and Stan followed her into the living room of the house where Mr. Broflovski and Ike were seated on the couch watching TV.

“Oh, hello, boys,” Gerald said dully, looking up as they entered. Ike made a noise in greeting, but didn't turn away from the TV. Now twelve, he had grown a good amount and was almost up to Kyle's chin, but otherwise he was the same.

“Sit down. Sit down,” Sheila urged and the two boys found a seat, Stan on the other end of the couch from the father and son and Kenny on the floor near his feet.

“So was he really kidnapped?” Kenny asked, looking to Mrs. Broflovski for the answer.

Sitting in the armchair, Sheila nodded with a small sniff. “My poor bubee was taken right from under me. That boy” she said with a scowl, some anger replacing the sadness, “just let them take him away. Just like that!” she said, making a sharp gesture in disbelief. “He just let them take him away.” She sniffed again and wiped at her eyes with the handkerchief. Reaching over, Gerald patted her consolingly on the arm.

“You mean Christophe?” Stan asked with a raised brow, somehow finding the story hard to believe.

“Do not say that name in my house!” Sheila snapped, glaring at Stan. “That boy is forbidden. When Kyle gets back he's moving right back home. I don't care what he says. He's not living with that French you-know-what anymore. I won't allow it! Not if this is what a relationship with him brings!”

Kenny and Stan shared a look at that. Kyle wouldn't like that.

“So you were there?” Kenny asked instead of replying to that, turning back to the main point.

Sheila nodded and looked down, clutching the handkerchief tighter in her hand. “It was horrible,” she said, no doubt remembering, “Some man dressed all in black jumped out and grabbed Kyle right in front of me. Then that boy showed up and started talking— Here she looked up in angry disbelief. “Talking! Can you believe it?” Scowling, she shook her head and went back to the story. “He started talking to the man and I tried to call the police, but another man threw a knife at me and destroyed the phone.”

Stan stared at her in disbelief. “An actual knife?”

She nodded.

“How'd you get away?” Kenny asked, interested in the answer.

She sniffed again and wiped at her eyes again. “They weren't interested in me. They only wanted Kyle so they left after grabbing him.” Remembering something, she scowled harder and glared at nothing. “And then that boy threw me out! He actually threw me out of my own son's apartment!”

Kenny looked down and hid his amused smirk at this. It wouldn't do to have Kyle's mom notice it. She'd probably only start to rage at him.

Amused himself, Stan fought to keep a smile from crossing his face and carefully kept his face free of all emotion, only nodding in sympathy as Sheila continued.

“And he wasn't doing anything about Kyle being kidnapped! He just started playing on his computer! The nerve! I always knew he was no good. Right from the moment I saw him. I said to myself, “Sheila, now there is boy who'll break your son's heart.” That's what I said. And wouldn't you know it! I was right.”

“Well, we just went by there and Christophe's nowhere in sight,” Stan told her. “The police think he's the one who did it.”

“Good,” Sheila said, nodding in satisfaction. “Serves him right, getting my bubee messed up in his world. I hope they put him in jail.”

Stan and Kenny shared another look. They'd talked on the way over and decided that if Kyle really was kidnapped and Christophe was nowhere in sight then it really was more likely that Christophe had gone to save him. They couldn't imagine that the mercenary would just let Kyle be taken just like that. But it wouldn't be good to say any of that to Mrs. Broflovski. She had her opinions and anyone who went against them, especially when they concerned her sons, was to be throttled.

Either way, Stan hoped that Kyle was okay and that Christophe came back with Kyle soon. Things weren't looking good for the mercenary. The police were out to get him and Mrs. Broflovski was angry. It wouldn't take much for her to actually be on the hunt for blood.