Chapter Text
Butters coughed. It was a cold, shaky cough. Like a small kid who had been left out in the snow too long, and was now getting sick.
This was exactly what was happening. His shoes were soaked, squelching as he took another step in the wet snow. His toes felt as they were about to fall off, his nose was red and sore, and his throat itched.
In all honesty, Butters entire body ached. He couldn't remember how many times his dad had beat him while he lay on the ground, crying for him to stop. The only reason he was out now, was because his dad had walked away to get something, and his mother had gotten him to leave through the back door, telling him only to come back the next day.
Now, he was kind of regretting that decision. It was cold, and wet. He had nowhere to sleep, and he would rather be in double the amount of pain he was in right now if it meant he could be laying in bed.
Maybe, just maybe, the frost bite would be bad enough to kill him. He hadn't had the courage to try to do it himself in a very long time. He'd just been hoping it would happen naturally, although so far nothing had happened.
Butters could feel his legs begin to weaken. He had been walking in circles around the small town of south park for hours now. He'd left the house around 7 pm. People were still around at that point. But it was nearing the 3 am mark now, and the streets were empty. The only reason he was still walking, was because if he didn't, he'd have no way to keep warm. Though the exhaustion of staying up this late, along with consistently walking was beginning to catch up to the poor boy.
He found himself in a strangely familiar neighborhood. It wasn't his of course. The houses were bigger where he lived, and they didn't look so scary.
It was at the point now though, that he didn't really care. He was tired, sore, and cold, and he would rather be doing anything other than walking right now. Butters let out a small huff, his lips felt as if they were freezing off, and he wouldn't be surprised if they were blue. He practically collapsed onto a curb, feeling the burn of exercise finally catch up to his chilly legs as he relaxed his body. He whimpered, pulling his knees up to his chest, half trying to conduct some heat, and half trying to comfort himself. All it did was send a unbearable pain up his chest. He'd almost forgotten that his only worry wasn't just the cold. His smart blue shirt was stained red in some parts, and he couldn't walk without a limp. His dad went further than this sometimes, but this was the first time he'd had to walk around in a condition this bad.
It was all becoming too much. Butters couldn't hold it in anymore. Before he knew it, he was crying. And not silent sobs either. If it was earlier, passerby's would give him weird stares, and whisper to eachother. Luckily, it was late, and Butters was all alone. His sobs were shaky and sore sounding. His throat already hurt from screaming just hours before, and crying now was just painful, sad, and pathetic. He stayed like that for a while, not sure how much time had passed. Everything felt so much slower. His ears were ringing and has a vision was blurred. Not that it really mattered, there was nothing out here to see. God, he hated this place. If he could just get up and leave he would- click!
Butters nearly jumped out of his pants. A door had opened behind him, and then shut with a quiet bang.
His breath hitched, and his sobs went silent. He tried as hard as he could to stay still, though his shaking was obvious even in the dim lights. He still hiccuped slightly as he heard footsteps nearing him.
But then they stopped.
Butters nearly turned around, now genuinely scared, and paying attention. Who the heck would be awake at this time? Had they noticed him? He could feel them standing somewhere behind him, or maybe he was just being paranoid.
"U-um. Can you p-p-please just ignore m-me?" He asked, his small voice almost drowned out by the sound of fabric rubbing together. As if someone was pulling off a...jacket? The fabric sounded squeaky and smooth.
Then he felt it, a warm jacket being placed on his shoulders. It felt worn and slightly rough. But it was comfortable. It was comforting. Butters almost started crying again. But instead, he looked up, trying to see if he could catch a glimpse at who was with him. A pair of blue eyes met his. The boy standing over him was grinning, his blonde hair falling over his face slightly in different areas.
Kenny.
It had been a long time since they had spoken. He always had that care free look in his eyes, as if nothing in the world mattered to him. Butters wished he could be like that. He at least hoped people saw him that way.
Kenny tilted his head slightly. "The fuck are you doing out so late on a week da-" he cut himself off, his expression darkening.
"Who the hell did this to you?" The question came out harsh, and low. Butters almost, squirmed away. He had almost forgotten about the bruises that riddled his face. The cut on his lip had long since stopped bleeding, and there was now a dry stream on blood running down his chin. His eye was a deep purple colour, mixed with some greens and blues, and his eye bags were red. He wasn't sure how to respond. Some days, he could blame a bruise on falling, or bumping into something. But this felt different. Those excuses only really worked on people like Kyle and Stan. They asked, but clearly never really cared. It seemed as though the tall blonde wouldn't take such an excuse for an answer. "I- um-"
Kenny seemed to notice the uneasiness in the other boys posture. His gaze softened, and he took a step back. He couched down beside Butters, a small smile reappearing on his face. "I was gonna go on a walk, but you seem like you've done a lot of that already today. Wanna come inside?" Butters almost immediately jumped at the offer, not even bothering to consider why Kenny would ever want him to be inside his house. He would think about that later. Maybe he just wanted a favour. He could work with that. He nodded quickly. "Why yes, I would like that a lot actually. Thank you Kenny" The boy only smiled, giving a quick nod before getting back up. "Alright then, come on butterscotch. You look like you're about to crumble. Not surprised in this weather." Butters didn't even have time to react to any of that sentence. The nickname, or the show of concern. No one had ever gone out of their way to help him out. Not unless they wanted something in return. So really, it was just a waiting game now. Kenny was bound to ask for something sooner or later. He shakily stood up, noticing that Kenny hadn't left yet. He was waiting for him. How strange. He shrugged the coat off his shoulders, handing it back to the taller boy. "I-I ain't that cold. Thanks though." Kenny only shrugged, taking the coat back "suit yourself bro. I've got smokes anyway, that will warm us up" it was obvious he didn't believe Butters. Not that it mattered. He was allowed inside either way.
He'd been inside Kenny's house a couple of times when they were kids. They had the same friends so it wasn't a rare thing. It had changed a little since then. He remembered hearing about Kenny's mother leaving. She'd taken his sibling with her. No one had seen her since, and Kenny was left here with his dad. His dad had gotten a job though. He'd gotten his life somewhat together, and after a while, people seemed to forget there had ever been a nuclear family living in that house. Though Butters remembered how upset Kenny had seemed for a while after the whole ordeal. He'd been quieter, sadder. He didn't show up to school half the time, and when he did, he did not seem to want to be there. But just like everyone else, Kenny seemed to get over it. Or just made it seem as though he had. Butters knew though. He could tell. Even though they rarely spoke, and never hung out, Butters could tell. He would sit near him at lunch, and Stan would bring it up, thinking it was a funny joke. Kenny's eyes would go pale and he'd shut up for a while. No one ever seemed to notice how much it hurt him. Butters hated it.
They now stood at Kenny's door, both of them shivering slightly. The outside was a lot more cleaned up, and it didn't have that strange look to it. Maybe that's why the young blonde hadn't noticed where he had been sitting earlier. How could he recognise something he hadn't seen properly in years? "Wow! Y-your place sure looks great Kenny!" He said, a small smile on his face. "Well I-I bet the- kids at school don't bother y-you so much anymore." Butters fiddled with his fingers, his anxiety being very obvious in his voice. He'd had a bad stutter since he was a child, and only recently had he realized it was a nervous one. He was just constantly on edge, either with his father, or with his friends. He was never able to calm down. He always hated his voice too. His accent was something people always laughed at him for, and his stutter didn't do him any favours.
Kenny laughed softly. "Yep. I suppose they don't. Then again, I don't really hang out with them anymore. I keep to myself, y'know?" Butters just nodded quickly, watching as the other boy reopened the door, making way for him to step inside. "Welcome, just try to be quiet since my old man is asleep" he said in a quieter voice, but seeming quite relaxed. "Oh jeez...a-alright then." Butters mumbled, his voice barely even a whisper. It seemed as though he wasn't even breathing now, trying to be as quiet as possible. He worried that if he made too much noise, Kenny would get in trouble. Or worse, be mad at him. Kenny just laughed again. His laugh was playful and slightly high-pitched, contrasting slightly with his deeper voice. Butters didn't remember when everyone had gotten so...old. He felt as if he had never changed. He felt trapped in his nine year old body, while all his 'friends' moved on from that fucked up time. He jumped at the sound of Kenny's bedroom door opening. "My room still looks like shit, sorry. I've just not bothered cleaning it up. I don't see a point." Butters knew that feeling all too well. Knowing that you wouldn't be around long enough for it to matter anyways. He almost asked about it, worried that maybe it was more serious than Kenny was letting on. But, he didn't. He decided that it was none of his business really. It wasn't like Kenny owed it to him. Butters hadn't opened up at all either after all.
He stayed silent, standing awkwardly in one side of the room. Kenny had already kicked his shoes off and sat at the end of his bed with a long sigh. Then, out of his pocket he pulled out a plastic pouch, a small paper box and a folded up piece of toilet paper. He looked up, laughing slightly again. "Dude, when I asked you to be quiet, I meant just don't shout of anything. I'm used to having people like Kyle and Cartman over, so..you know how they are. You're fine to talk. It's be boring if you didn't. And for god's sake, don't be a stranger. Come sit on the bed." Butters smiled, relaxing slightly. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.