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“It’s me again.”
Kyle Broflovski startled away from his homework at the unexpected voice and the thud that accompanied it. Only the familiarity of the voice prevented him from grabbing one of his sharpened pencils as some form of weapon to defend himself. Seriously, he kept the things so sharp that a quick jab to the jugular would probably be the end of an intruder. Nice and quick. Bit messy, though; he wasn’t sure his mother would appreciate that.
As he turned towards the window, he opened his mouth to ask what Kenny meant by ‘again’ (and, possibly, complain about his unconventional entry into his bedroom), but the words caught in his throat.
The thud that had accompanied Kenny McCormick’s greeting had been due to his ungraceful entry via Kyle’s bedroom window, which, in turn, was due to the copious amounts of blood seeping through his fingers from what appeared to be a stab wound.
Kyle’s mouth dropped. “Jesus, dude!” He was on his feet and crouching by Kenny in a heartbeat, his own hands helping to apply pressure against the flow of blood. There was so much of it. It quickly soaked his fingers. “We need to get you to hospital, Ken!”
“No hospitals,” Kenny said weakly. Though his voice faltered, there was fire in his blue eyes.
“Holy crap, but—” Kyle couldn’t bring himself to say the words, despite how abundantly clear it was that his friend was dying. He felt the beginnings of tears tickle his face as he stared at Kenny in disbelief, his fingers slipping as they desperately pressed against the open wound. “W-What happened?”
“Heh… Just a fight,” Kenny said, his glassy eyes rolling. “Wanna say you should see the other guy, but—” He didn’t finish his sentence, his head drooping and, for a second, Kyle’s heart stopped. Fortunately, Kenny lifted his chin again, flashing a small, bloodied smile at the redhead.
“Ken… I don’t… I can’t help you,” his voice cracked, “We need to get you to the hospital.” The tears were flowing freely now. One of his best friends was dying in his arms, and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. He’d never felt so helpless in his entire life.
One of Kenny’s hands lifted to Kyle’s face, brushing at the tears. “Shit,” he mumbled tiredly, a bubble of blood growing between his lips. “Smudged blood on you, man.”
Kyle hiccupped. “Don’t worry about it. Ken—” He caught Kenny’s hand before it could flop uselessly to his side. He squeezed the fingers, trying not to pay attention to how cold they were. How little fresh, warm blood was being pumped around his body. “Why are you here?” Why had Kenny, in his dying moments, chosen to climb through Kyle’s window? It had probably caused far more pain than it was worth. Probably sped up his departure from the world, too. Kyle took a deep breath, trying to control his tears.
“I… always come…”
“What?” Kyle asked. He’d given up on trying to staunch the blood and was now running his fingers through Kenny’s hair, leaving streaks of red in the brilliant gold. He’d always loved Kenny’s hair and had wondered what it would feel like to run his fingers through it. He had never imagined doing it under such circumstances, though.
Kenny shook his head, letting his eyelids flutter. Kyle leaned closer, panicking. “Hey, stay with me, Ken!” The blue eyes opened again.
“I’m so cold, Kyle.”
“I’ll get you a blanket. I’ll—” As the redhead went to move, Kenny weakly tugged on his hand.
“Stay,” he pleaded. “I don’t have long.”
“Don’t say that.” Why wouldn’t the tears stop, dammit? “You’re going to be okay. You’ll be fine…” The lie was weak even to his own ears.
“Think you might be wrong this time,” Kenny said, his sentence dissolving into a batch of coughs that brought fresh blood to his lips.
“I’m never wrong,” Kyle sobbed, pressing his forehead against Kenny’s.
“Sorry, I… always do this.” Kenny’s voice was barely audible, even at such close proximity. Kyle didn’t know what he meant, but he shook his head anyway, shushing the blond, telling him it was fine, it didn’t matter. “I just… I like yours to be… the last face… I see…”
“Please don’t go, Ken…” But even as he said the words, he knew it was too late. The body in his arms grew still, the hand clasped within his own growing slack. The bright blue orbs that stared at him became dull and lifeless, but Kyle couldn’t tear his eyes away.
Kenny McCormick was dead.
Kyle held him close and cried, the sobs shaking his entire body, bringing him to the edge of exhaustion.
“Why do you never remember?!” The voice woke Kyle with a start. He bolted upright in bed, confused and scared, until he became with it enough to turn on the lamp beside his bed. He blinked in rapid succession as the sudden light threatened his irises, leaving brightly coloured specs of afterimage floating around his vision.
Kenny leaned heavily against his wall, covered in blood. Kyle felt his heart stop.
“Ken?” His voice was quiet, unsure.
“You never remember,” Kenny said. He sounded deflated. He sounded like he was in severe pain.
“I don’t remember what?” Kyle was climbing out of his covers now, sliding across the bed and reaching tentatively out towards his bleeding friend. When Kenny’s fierce eyes met his own, Kyle flinched back; they were bloodshot and angry.
“I keep dying and you. Never. Remember!”
“Kenny…?” Kyle didn’t know what to say. This was something Kenny came out with occasionally, but not for years. Not since they were children. Kyle had always thought it was something he said for attention. Kenny was always sort of… forgotten about compared to Stan, Cartman and Kyle himself. If he was creeping into Kyle’s bedroom in the dead of night, bleeding severely and still claiming that he kept dying, though… Maybe there was more to it than Kyle had initially given credit.
“Why can’t you remember just once?” Kenny was speaking between gritted teeth, his arms clutched to his body, hiding whatever damage had been caused.
Kyle spoke calmly as if trying to talk down a crazed bank robber or something. “If I don’t remember, then it’s not something I do intentionally. I’m sorry, Kenny. I wish I could remember for you.”
“You do?” Kenny asked in a quiet voice.
“Of course.” Kyle moved closer to Kenny, but before he could reach out, the blond started hacking away, bringing up blood, his coughs chesty and reverberating through his body. Frozen to the spot like a deer caught in headlights, Kyle could only watch as Kenny’s coughing stopped only when he crashed to the floor in an ungraceful heap. “…Kenny?”
But Kenny was already dead.
Kyle was asleep. Well, that wasn’t strictly true, but he was almost asleep, and so, when the window he was certain he’d closed slid open, it was enough to scare him half to death. With fumbling hands, he reached for his lamp, hoping it was one of his inconsiderate friends and not a murderer out for blood.
It was one of his inconsiderate friends.
“What the fuck do you want?” He grumbled moodily as Kenny lowered himself into the room.
“It’s that time again.” There was something wrong with Kenny’s voice. It didn’t sound right. Kyle peered at the looming figure by the window, waiting for Kenny to turn to face him. When he finally did, Kyle gasped. “I was hit by a car,” Kenny said, as if that kind of thing happened to him all the time. He winced and stepped closer, holding his body in a way that told Kyle several of his bones were broken.
“What are you doing here?!” Kyle sat up, throwing the covers off him. “We need to get you to a hospital!”
Kenny laughed humourlessly. “You always say that.” The redhead furrowed his eyebrows, trying to riddle out what Kenny had said and eventually deciding that he was simply delirious from pain. When Kenny sat heavily on his bed, Kyle reached for him.
“You’re bleeding on my bedsheets,” he told the blond, though he was too worried to actually sound irritated.
“Will be gone by morning,” Kenny said, still not making any sense. Kyle reached for his phone, but with lightning reflexes, Kenny stopped him. “No hospitals,” he said sharply. Kyle bit his lip and nodded, though from the state of his friend, if he didn’t get checked out soon, there was no telling what would happen. He could have internal bleeding or have punctured a lung or something. Kyle said as much, and Kenny laughed, wincing in pain and clutching his ribs.
“So why are you here?” Kyle asked quietly, eyeing cuts and bruises on his blond friend and wondering whether he could fix him up himself.
“I like to come see you. Before.”
“Before what?”
“Before I die,” Kenny said causally.
“Don’t be a moron! You’re not dying.” Kenny went to smile but coughed instead. Kyle didn’t miss the fresh blood that stained his hand as he quickly wiped it away.
“‘Fraid I am. Done it enough to know… how it feels.” Kenny was speaking between gritted teeth now, clearly in a whole other world of pain. Kyle was damn close to phoning an ambulance and just facing the other boy's wrath.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked instead. He was pretty sure Kenny was just rambling and didn’t have a clue what he was talking about, but some of the things he said made him pause.
Kenny waved him off, painfully lowering his body down onto the bed. “Sometimes I wish you remembered, man,” he said in a quiet, tired voice.
“You’re not making any sense, dude,” Kyle said softly. He almost reached out to run his fingers through Kenny’s hair but hesitated. If it had been Stan, he wouldn’t have thought twice, but Kenny was different… Kenny was…
“I’m completely in love with you, you know,” Kenny said sleepily, his eyes fluttering shut. Kyle opened and closed his mouth, staring in disbelief at the blond. Had he actually just said that? He couldn’t have, surely? Kyle was just feverish. That was it; he was just hallucinating. It had to be that. Why else would he suddenly be so hot, his cheeks so flushed? Why the heck was the room so damn warm all of a sudden?
“I… You… You’re not…”
“I’ve told you before,” Kenny said.
“I think I would remember that!” Kyle protested, glad that Kenny’s eyes were still closed. His face was probably a startling shade of beetroot right about now.
“You’d think you’d remember seeing me die before as well, but, y’know…” Kenny sounded so indifferent. He had to be playing some kind of cruel prank. It wasn’t like him, of course—that was more Cartman’s forte—but what else could it be? Then again, he was clearly in pain, so maybe he was just rambling and wouldn’t have a clue what he’d been talking about when Kyle spoke about it later.
For now, Kyle decided to play along. Besides, talking about Kenny’s delusion was easier than addressing the bombshell L word he’d just dropped. “Okay, so you keep dying?”
“You don’t need to humour me, dude,” Kenny said, his voice so weak it broke Kyle’s heart. It was like even breathing was painful. Kyle hated it. Kenny should be in a hospital, not in Kyle’s bed. “Sucks, but I’m used to it.”
“How could you be used to something like that?” Kyle didn’t believe Kenny, but he had to admit if it were the truth, it would be a horrible existence. He couldn’t imagine repeatedly dying in front of somebody, only for them to act as if it had never even happened. That would be awful.
“It’s been happening my entire life.” Kenny shifted his weight and gasped out. Kyle was unsure but thought the blond’s breaths were getting shallower. This time, he did reach out to stroke Kenny’s hair. Maybe if he lulled the boy to sleep, he could call a fucking ambulance already!
“All your life? How many times have you died?”
“I lost count years ago. Death’s out to get me, man.”
“Why’s that?” Kyle didn’t get a response. He waited for a moment before the panic really started to creep in. He shook the blond. “Kenny? Stay with me!”
“Mmm…”
“You need to stay awake.” Scratch the idea of letting Kenny fall asleep. Kyle was too afraid that he would die if that happened. He felt panicked tears forming in his eyes. He didn’t know what to do. He had to get help; he couldn’t just sit back and watch Kenny die.
“Sleepy…”
“I know,” Kyle said, still stroking Kenny’s hair. “But you gotta stay awake okay? I’m gonna get help.”
“No, stay.” Kenny’s words slurred together. “Won’t be long now.”
“You can’t die, Kenny!”
“Can,” the blond mumbled. “Bu’ don’t worry. Be back soon.”
“Dumbass,” Kyle whispered. “If you really do come back, then stop being a coward and tell me your feelings at a time I’ll remember them.”
“Maybe,” Kenny mumbled, and then he was still. Kyle shook him again, but this time the blond did not stir.
Kyle had been climbing into bed when Mysterion clambered through his bedroom window. He knew instantly that his friend had been injured. He could almost smell the blood.
Kyle hated that Kenny insisted on going out as Mysterion. He’d repeatedly warned the blond that he would end up getting killed. Had Kenny listened, though? Had he hell!
Abandoning the thought of his warm covers, Kyle rushed over to his friend just as he slumped to the floor in a messy heap. “What happened?” he demanded, pulling the mask away from Mysterion’s face.
“Fucked up,” Kenny mumbled. Kyle winced as he spotted the blood on his lips.
“I can plainly see that.”
“I keep meaning to tell you when I’m not dying, but—”
“Dude, hold up! You’re not dying,” Kyle interrupted fiercely. Judging from the blood soaking through the vigilante's costume, however, he quite possibly was.
“I keep chickening out,” Kenny continued as if Kyle hadn’t spoken. He panted between words, as if he’d run a mile full speed. “It’s easier to tell you at death's door, y’know?”
“What are you talking about?” Kyle rested Kenny’s head in his lap, trying to bite back tears.
“Maybe if I practise enough, I’ll eventually get together the courage to do it when I’m not dying…”
“Do what?”
“Tell you I love you,” Kenny said, his blue eyes peering uncertainly up at Kyle, gauging for a reaction. If it wasn’t for the sheen of sweat on his forehead and the blood that stained his chalky face, Kyle would have laughed and rolled his eyes. As it stood, however, he wasn’t sure Kenny was in any state to mess with him right now.
“Dude, what are you—”
“I’ve loved you since we were kids,” Kenny said, and then he started coughing. Kyle cradled his body close as the blond heaved up blood.
“Why are you telling me this now?” Kyle asked quietly once Kenny’s ragged coughs had subsided.
“‘Cus I’m never brave enough to tell you when you’ll remember.” Kyle didn’t bother to ask what he meant. “It’s fine… You don’t have to love me back or anything.”
Kyle bit his lip. The problem wasn’t that he didn’t love Kenny back. The problem was that he did. He had for years. Kenny was easygoing, fun and loveable. Pretty much the opposite of Kyle, who was wound up tight and had a temper. He found himself chilling out around Kenny, though. There was just something about the blond that relaxed him in ways even Stan couldn’t.
This wasn’t right, though. Kenny wasn’t meant to confess his feelings while bleeding out in his arms. Kyle had always pictured them being the last men standing on a night in, sleepily lounging together in front of a bad movie. When Kenny cracked a stupid joke, Kyle would laugh and go to shove him playfully, and Kenny would capture his lips… Damn, Kyle hadn’t realised how much thought he’d put into this little fantasy of his.
As Kenny's breathing slowed, he pulled himself out of it. Now really wasn’t the time.
“Kenny?”
“Mmm?” The blond looked so pale, so drained of life. Kyle couldn’t believe he was sitting here with him rather than calling an ambulance or, better yet, speeding to Hells Pass himself the sooner to get the vigilante the care he needed. The only reason he wasn’t, Kyle realised, was because he knew Kenny was dying. He could see it. He could see that his friend was beyond help, and it broke his heart.
“I love you too.”
“You do?” Somehow, despite everything, there was still a sparkle in his eyes. “Never told me that before…”
“Of course I haven’t,” Kyle said. “Saying it now, though.”
“Good… Maybe I’ll pluck up the courage… Next time…” Even as he said the words, his eyes were closing. Even as Kyle leaned down to press a chaste kiss to his bloodied lips, his last breath was leaving him.
Kyle Broflovski was thinking about climbing into bed. It was late, and he had a test in the morning. While he was still debating, however, a figure climbed in through his window.
“Kenny? What the hell, dude?”
Kenny smiled easily at him, eyes twinkling playfully. “Are you honestly saying it’s not a fantasy of yours to have me climb through your bedroom window in the middle of the night?”
“More like a nightmare. It’s kinda creepy, man.” He eyed his lanky friend up and down, half expecting him to be mortally wounded but without knowing why. Kenny seemed in impeccable condition, though. “What are you doing here?”
“Can’t a guy pop in on his bros?”
“Yes, but usually they call first. Or use the front door.”
“You want me to go back and use the front door?”
“Jesus Christ, no! It’s one in the morning. My mom’ll kill me.”
“Then I guess I better stay,” Kenny said, flopping down on Kyle’s bed. The redhead sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. He was pretty sure Kenny knew he had a test in the morning and was intentionally screwing with him. It was certainly the kind of thing he would do. Kyle sometimes wished he could use it to hate the easygoing Playboy. Hating him had to be easier than… this. This was torturous. With Kenny flopped on his bed like that, all Kyle wanted to do was linger over him and kiss those damn lips he’d fantasised about so much. And that hair! How he wished to run his fingers through those golden locks.
With a tense sigh, Kyle perched down at the edge of his bed, peering at the cute blond sprawled across it. “Dude,” he said, “you can’t just do this sort of thing. We have school tomorrow.”
“Exactly. I can sleep in class.”
Kyle rolled his eyes. “Well, I can’t, okay. I’m not going to get valedictorian by sleeping through class.”
Kenny’s playful expression softened slightly. “I dunno, you could probably find a way to make sleeping productive. But I get ya, man. I’ll go. Just… I wanted to tell you something first.”
“What?” Kyle asked, his irritation melting away in favour of curiosity. He liked that Kenny was unpredictable. If it had been Stan sneaking into his bedroom at one AM, he’d have known exactly what was up. With Kenny, though, he had absolutely no idea what was playing on the boy's mind. His chosen vigilante name Mysterion was perfect, all right.
Kenny seemed suddenly shy, sitting upright on the bed and throwing his legs over so that he sat beside Kyle. His hands fidgeted in his lap, and he looked anywhere but at the boy beside him. This only further intrigued Kyle. It also, however, made him a little nervous. He felt his palms sweat and balled up his fists to hide it. Why had Kenny suddenly become so bashful?
“I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while, but I wasn’t sure how you felt…” Kenny started, risking a glance at the redhead. Was it Kyle’s imagination, or were his checks red?
“Go on?” Kyle prompted, nervously nudging his shoulder against Kenny’s in encouragement.
“Well…” Kenny didn’t seem to be able to say the words. He looked to be having an internal debate with himself. It was almost fascinating to watch. Kyle swore he heard Kenny mumble something along the lines of ‘This is easier when I’m dying…’. Finally, he looked up, meeting Kyle’s eyes with a sudden fierceness that hadn’t been there moments before. “Screw it,” he said, and then he leaned forward and kissed Kyle square on the lips.
Kyle stiffened in surprise. Out of everything he had expected, this was at the bottom of the list. To be perfectly honest, he’d been expecting Kenny to admit he’d gotten some girl pregnant or something along those lines. Something sexual that didn’t involve him in the slightest. Those thoughts melted from his brain as Kenny’s tongue flickered across his bottom lip, however, and Kyle found himself responding to the kiss without even meaning to. Not that kissing Kenny wasn’t everything he wanted, though. Kissing Kenny was everything. It was almost as if fireworks had been let off inside of Kyle, leaving him breathless, desperate, and full of fire. His fingers found those soft locks of hair he’d always been so eager to touch, digging into them, tugging the blond closer. Kenny didn’t complain, his own hands winding around Kyle’s waist as if distance could physically kill him.
When they eventually pulled apart for air, Kenny smiled and pressed a kiss to Kyle’s forehead. “That was all I wanted to tell you,” he said, freeing Kyle from his arms and standing up. He smirked evilly and headed towards the window. “I’ll let you sleep now.”
“You bastard!” Kyle cried, jumping to his own feet. “Get back here!” Stumbling a little, he made it to the window before Kenny could escape and slammed it shut hard enough that he was surprised the glass didn’t shatter. “Don’t even think about running away after kissing me like that,” he growled and then, because he could, and because he wanted to, he pinned Kenny between himself and the closed window and kissed him again.
School and exams be damned. He had his whole life to excel. Right now, what he wanted more than valedictorian was to kiss Kenny McCormick within an inch of his life.