Chapter Text
Eric Cartman
Cartman opened and closed his mouth in a chewing motion on the bed of his mother's room, where he resided with Kenny McCormick and Clyde Donovan. Tomorrow was September 5th, 2002. The first day of high school for all the 14-year-old kids from South Park.
Kenny, Clyde, and Eric had no clue what any of their other friends were doing and saw no point in asking, considering that they were much more comfortable with sitting around and eating while watching shitty reality TV as Liane Cartman baked homemade cookies downstairs.
“Kenny, I wasn’t going to be the one to say it. But I think it’s time I do.” Cartman said in between bites, his mouth filled with the orange residue of his cheesy poofs, “the parka, man. You’ve got to ditch it.”
Kenny angrily rolled his eyes and pulled off his hood, revealing the peach fuzz that had begun growing over his lips. “Dude, I’m not getting rid of the park until you throw that dirty-ass hat away!”
“Well, Kinny, my hat does cover my entire fucking face now, doesn’t it? Besides, your jacket is too small; it muffles your voice too much.” Eric sneered.
“His parka always muffled his voice; I’ve never actually understood him.” Clyde added, reaching over to the remote to lower the volume of some argument happening on the TV screen.
Cartman laughed. “That’s because you’re a deaf moron, Clyde.”
“Fine, you’re right. It covers my face more than I like now. My girlfriend says the same thing.” Kenny finally agreed. The brothers gasped in unison.
“Girlfriend?” Eric and Clyde both exclaimed, exchanging a look of pure confusion.
Kenny breathed out, “Yeah, jackasses. Is it hard to believe I could be going steady with someone?”
Clyde laughed out loud. “Okay, yeah, it is. Who?”
“Like I’d tell you, Donovan.”
“Oh, so she’s not real?” Cartman grinned, Clyde nodded in agreement, still chuckling.
“Oh, screw you guys. She’s real! Blonde, hot, and totally real!” Kenny rolled over, flipping the two of them off.
“Boys, cookies are ready!” Clyde's dad yelled from downstairs.
Clyde licked his lips in excitement and hopped off the bed. Cartman and Kenny followed.
“Dude, I can’t believe your mom is screwing Clyde’s dad.” Kenny shook his head.
“It’s almost as believable as your fake ass girlfriend, you poor piece of shit.” Cartman cursed. Kenny shoved him against the wall and ran ahead of him down the stairs.
The boys sat on the couch with their cookies. Clyde took to setting up some video games for the boys to play while Kenny looked out the window. His eyes lit up when he saw a moving van pull up.
“Dudes, dudes—there’s a fucking moving truck in front of Stan’s old house!” He looked back.
“What the fuck?” Cartman pushed Kenny out of the way to look, and Clyde took a peek too. “Aw, weak! Some new Mormon douche is probably moving in!” He groaned and walked away.
Clyde squinted. “Is…is that Stan’s mom?”
“Huh.” Kenny blinked.
Stanley Marsh
Stan looked around his old room, carrying a box full of stuff that lived at the farm for a year and six months. His father had given up on the country life after falling for some mindless scam on the new family computer. He had lost the majority of his money, so he had no other choice but to sell the farm and move back into South Park.
Sure, Randy was bummed. But Stan was ecstatic.
Stanley had missed the bus stop, the crazy adventures his friends had gotten him into, and most of all, his old life. It gave him a sense of normalcy, the thought of starting at a new school in his hometown. It was just like when he first met his friend group. The moment he realized that these people were going to be his lifelong friends.
But when he stepped into that room, almost two years later. With his new looks and new wardrobe, he felt nothing. He felt like there was no change. Maybe the house wasn’t the problem. Maybe it was just him.
He was so fucked.
Kyle Broflovski
Kyle mindlessly doodled some sketch of a tree next to the last pages of his summer math homework. He had put it off for a long time because the thought of high school seemed like a faraway dream. One that didn’t even have the chance to come true. But there it was. Standing in front of him next to a big sign that read “GROW THE FUCK UP!”
He would have to wake up early now; he would have to catch the morning bus and get off a stop earlier after the day ended to go to tutoring, then take a city bus to take driver's ed once January came along.
This was the start of Kyle Broflovski's adult life. Time for him to stop screwing around and time for him to wake the fuck up. 2003 was going to be his year.
Kyle pushed back his growing fro and tied it with a rubber band. He figured that his old trapper hat probably wasn’t going to fit on his head the way it did in 8th grade, but maybe he thought he could wear it until the winter was over. His hair has grown a ton over the summer, though. He had thought of straightening it to test out the shrinkage, but he scrapped the idea because it seemed too girly.
Long straight hair probably won’t attract many chicks anyway. Either would be big, fluffy red curls, but he probably had a better chance with his natural hair.
Kyle looked away from his mirror and marked his final answer on his summer homework packet. He will be the first to turn it in tomorrow, and he will probably be praised by his teacher. And called a teacher's pet by his classmates.
Whatever, half of the kids in South Park are never making it out of Colorado anyway.
Kenny McCormick
“Are the Marshes moving back in?” Clyde said, throwing his head back and groaning, stepping away from the window, “Fuck—now I’m going to ruin you guys’ little friend group bus stop moment by being there!”
“Why don’t you just take your dad’s car?” Kenny asked, his expression blank.
“Because I don’t have my driver’s license?”
“Just don’t drive like a maniac, idiot. Officer Barbrady is too dumb to notice you driving without a permit.”
“Huh, I guess you’re right.” Clyde tapped his chin with his index finger.
Eric’s mom came in the room, in a sing-songy voice, “Poopikins, there are more cookies on the stove if your brother and your little friend want some!”
“Jesus Christ, Mom. Clyde isn’t my fucking brother.” Cartman's face twisted in disgust. Kenny watched the way his fat cheeks turned red and almost laughed.
Liane's lips were in a straight line, her brows in the same position. “Sweetie, we really have to start calming down on the cussing now that Clyde’s family lives here.” She demanded under her breath.
Kenny looked over to see Cartmans face, he was expecting some snarky comment or a simple “Fuck you!” in response to his mothers command, because it was Eric Cartman and that's just what he does. But his face was blank, out of it. His eyes were locked onto the ground as if he was hypnotized.
Liane saw that as acceptable, so she nodded and moved up the stairs quietly. Kenny didn’t like the thought of her seeing how messy they had left the room, so he stood up and jogged after her, trying to run up and apologize before she could see the crumbs he and the guys had left on the bed while eating cheesy poofs,
Kenny caught a glance of Cartmans full expression and stopped dead in his tracks. His pupils were fucking huge, taking up most of his eyes. His breathing was picking up at an alarming rate, which was a stark contrast to his silent breaths from six seconds ago.
“Eric?” Kenny touched his shoulder.
“Get the fuck away from me, dick!” Cartman pushed back his hand, and Kenny winced.
For the first few seconds Kenny thought he was having some weird-ass panic attack, but as time went on, he realized that this was more.
“Clyde, go get Mr. Donovan, or Liane.” Kenny instructed.
“What? Why—“
“Just go!” Kenny yelled louder. Cartman didn’t like that sound apparently, because he immediately started sobbing.
Kenny never thought he’d see the day where Eric Cartman would crawl into a fucking ball and start sobbing. Hysterically. At fourteen years old.
“Cartman?” Kenny was scared for a moment; he didn’t know if Eric wanted to be touched or left alone. But he decided to put his arm on his shoulder and just leave it there, even though the other boy shook at the contact.
Liane and Rodger came rushing down the stairs.
The second Liane noticed his cries, she started crying with him. He lifted up his head; his pupils were still large as hell.
“No, stop, no.” Cartman muttered so quietly only Liane and Kenny could hear.
“Liane, honey. I think we have to go to the doctor. Now.” Rodger rubbed Liane's shoulder.
“Right, of course.” Mrs. Cartman agreed.
Liane went out to go start the car, and Kenny just stared at the situation unfolding in front of him. Cartman's episode, the whispers, and him sobbing. It was like he was seeing something totally fucked. Kenny had never seen him like that.
“I think it’s best if you go home, kid.” Rodger said with sincerity, “I don’t think your parents would like the idea of us taking you with us to a hospital.”
Kenny was going to argue that his parents gave a rat's ass about what he does, but he wasn’t looking to get Child Protective Services on his already struggling family, so he nodded.
“Of course. Can you call my house number in case anything happens?” Kenny said, zipping his jacket back up above his lips and throwing his hood over his mop of long blond hair.
“Sure, kid,” Rodger said.
Kenny didn’t ask for a ride or anything; he was planning to go straight home. But he would much rather see someone he actually liked rather than his parents.
He walked to Butters’ house.
Marjorine ‘Butters’ Stotch
Butters lay on her stomach, kicking her feet back and forth while mindlessly reading some book she had found at her mother's house yesterday.
She was about to turn to the next page when a knock on her window caused her to scream and roll right off her bed.
She got up and blushed when she saw Kenny laugh through the window.
“Not funny, Ken!” She complained, pulling open her window so Kenny could come into her room, “My mama moved out two days ago; you can just knock now, you know?”
“That takes the thrill out of it.” Kenny laughed, unzipping and discarding his parka. He took Marjorine by the waist and dipped her like it was some corny princess show.
Kenny kissed Butters twice before pulling her up and sitting on her bed, kicking off his shoes. “I didn’t want to go home yet; I was at Cartman’s.”
Marjorine rolled her eyes. She hadn’t actually hung out with Eric since 6th grade. It wasn’t that hard to drop him considering he was a douche who only used Butters to benefit himself.
Unfortunately, the other kids just put up with Cartman's annoying antics for no clear reason. Maybe they liked the entertainment. Butters didn’t care. She was content with hanging out with Kenny, Dougie, Scott, and Tweek occasionally, when he felt like hanging out with people other than the douches he surrounded himself with.
“What was so stressful about hanging out with Eric?” Marjorine said, sitting on the bed next to Kenny.
Her boyfriend breathed out and leaned back against the bed. “He…he just snapped. His mom scolded him—which never happens—but when she did. He just stayed silent and started sobbing. I mean, sure, I’ve seen him whine before. But he was full-blown sobbing while curling into a fucking ball.”
Marjorine stared at him. “Well, that’s…strange.”
“His pupils were, like, huge. And he was acting like something was talking to him, whispering shit like ‘nooooo— noo—.’“ He said in a Cartman impression that actually made Butters burst out laughing, falling back onto the soft bed cushion with him.
Kenny turned to face his girlfriend. “The thing is, it wasn’t like his meltdown or whatever was… never before seen by me.” Kenny looked away; Marjorine leaned forward. “My brother. He has, like, some sort of personality disorder, and when he has episodes, the same things happen. His pupils get enlarged, and his mood just changes rapidly.” Kenny shook his head. “I’m… worried. Even though I know Cartman’s a fucking dick, he’s still my friend.”
“I know.” Marjorine sighed, “I think Cartman’s fine. He does crazy shit to get attention all the darn time. If he really has a problem, I don’t think things will be all too different.”
“I guess.” Kenny shrugged, snuggling himself up against his girlfriend.
Tolkien Black
“Dude, didn’t you see Butters’ Friendster? She’s totally a fucking girl now.” Jimmy's voice glitched over the
phone, Tolkien spun around on his gaming chair, holding his new Nokia phone up to his ear.
“So? You’re not going to like bully Butters for that, are you?” Tolkien asked, concern etching his face.
Jimmy scoffed, “I-I’m not a m-m-monster, Tolkien. I j-just didn’t think it could be that easy to become a T-Town pariah!”
Tolkien shook his head; he could practically hear Jimmy’s dumb smile through the phone.
“She grew out her hair over the summer apparently. It’s like long as fuckin’ hell.” Tolkien muttered, leaning over his computer, scrolling through her Friendster profile, “She’s actually really pretty.”
“R-really? Let me take a look.” Jimmy said Tolkien heard him power up his computer.
Tolkien hummed and looked around his room again. Deciding that cleaning it before school starts is probably a good idea.
“Hey, Jimmy. I have to clean my room real quick so—" Tolkien was cut off by a new number calling his cell. “Uh, I’ll call you back.”
Tolkien picked the phone back up and brought it to his ear. “Hello?”
“Tolkien? Is this your new number?” A monotonous voice said through the speaker. Tolkien guessed that it was probably Craig and also assumed Tweek was with him due to the loud sipping and shrieks in the background.
Tolkien hummed, “Mhm, what’s up, Craig?”
“Dude, I heard from Clyde that Cartman is totally in the fucking mental asylum right now.” Craig smirked into the speaker. “Apparently he had a whole heart attack while Kenny came over because his mother told him to stop saying ‘fuck.’”
“What? Pft, that’s not true, you moron.” Tolkien rolled his eyes.
“It literally is. Call Clyde; he’s at the hospital now.”
“Fine.” Tolkien hung up and dialed Clyde Donovan's number.
Clyde Donovan
Five hours. Five fucking hours at this boring, run-down hospital, waiting for Cartman to come outside so he can leave and go out with Bebe.
Clyde wasn’t going to act like he wasn’t worried about his stepbrother; he had almost cried in the car worrying that Cartman had some incurable disease.
But he would've much rather seen his girlfriend than stayed in the hot-ass hospital, while wearing his letterman jacket over his undershirt. Taking it off would be less embarrassing if there wasn’t an old lady sitting directly across from him, practically staring him down.
At 10:00 PM, a doctor came out in a lab coat. Liane looked up at him, her eyeliner streaming down her face.
“Sorry for the long wait, Mrs. Cartman. Usually the diagnosis takes days, but we had to speed it up because of all the vaccinations that have to be done before students start high school.” The doctor said Clyde had now discovered his name was Dr. Clifford because of his black name tag. Clyde was working on noticing ‘The Little Things.’
“You can come with me.” Dr. Clifford said the group stood up and followed him down the hall. “We believe your son may have a quite rare form of schizophrenia. Schizoaffective disorder is also known as schizo-bipolar disorder. It’s a mental health condition that has symptoms of both schizophrenia and a mood disorder. Your son has the main symptoms, including hallucinations, abnormal behaviors, disorganized thoughts and speech, mania, and delusions. He specifically has the bipolar type. He has days of extreme highs and extreme lows.”
Liane nodded. “I—is this for sure?”
“Well, your son is quite young. We usually try to diagnose in adulthood, but I’m afraid if we don’t diagnose him, his condition will just get worse.” The doctor stood outside the door of an office. Clyde peeked through the window and saw Cartman staring out through it. Eric's face had no expression when he stuck the middle finger up at his stepbrother.
“I think it’s best if you bring him home for now; it’s late, and I can just send an email about details and any medication your son may need. My main question, however, is the cause. It could be many things. Genetics, brain chemicals, and brain structure.
In Eric’s case we have yet to figure that out.”
“I’m not too sure.” Liane and Clyde's father exchanged a look.
Rodger cleared his throat. “Eric’s half-brother, he was a pretty messed up kid. Maybe that could be a connection?”
Dr. Clifford nodded. “Okay. Maybe have a conversation about this after you guys have a much-needed rest. I’ll send Eric out now.”