A/N: This is a one-shot song-fic.

Pairing: Kenny x Butters

I was inspired by the song "I'll Be Missing You" by P. Diddy/Faith Evans/112.

I love that song. For the best effect, look it up on youtube and listen to it while reading. :]


I'll Be Missing You

Every step I take.

I couldn't help it, my feet were moving of their own accord and each step brought me closer to that place -- the place I had been dreading to venture to ever since we found out he wasn't coming back this time.

I could see it on the horizon as I stumbled along the sidewalk paved with thin sheets of ice and slick mud, my arms hanging limply at my sides and my shoes scuffed with clumps of dirt and grass. I don't remember when I started crying, I know it wasn't when I left school, so it must have happened a couple of minutes ago. They were streaming down my cheeks now, chilling my skin to the bone as the frosty air bit at my flesh and stunned my fingers.

A wracking sob overcame me, and for an instant, it was as if I couldn't feel anything – as if all the emotions prior to this one moment in time had evaporated and made me hollow again, but when I spotted the dock up ahead, the water frozen around its support pillars, all of those emotions slammed back into me with a force so strong I almost slipped.

I felt like I couldn't breath. My nose was stuffy and the tears were relentless – they slipped past the barricade of my scarf and pooled at the crevice of my collarbone. I raked my fingers down across my eyes and over my frozen cheeks, desperately trying to scratch the tears away – scratch the feelings away.

Every move I make.

I set one shaky foot at the start of the dock, the soles of my shoes sliding across its frozen wooden boards. Three years ago, the mayor had decided to build a dock at Stark's Pond, for when the summer came and the pond melted into crisp, clear water. He and I, I can't even begin to tell you how much fun we had during those summers spent splashing around in the water. Or when we would meet up at midnight and cannon-ball into the frozen water, just to feel the rush of being enveloped in something so cold that you could swear on your life that your heart would shut down for the briefest of seconds before it started pumping again.

Every single day.

I trudged carefully across the dock, not caring enough to maneuver myself safely, but enough so that I wouldn't accidentally topple over the edge and land on the frozen ice that lay below.

You know, sometimes we wouldn't even swim. Sometimes, at night, he'd sneak over to my house and he would wake me up just so that I could come with him. We'd sit there at the very head of the dock and dangle our legs over the edge, and we'd be happy. We'd tell each other things, secret, hidden things; things that no one would ever know, the kind of secrets that were locked away so deep that it was sometimes hard retrieving them again, but when we were together, we somehow always managed to find them. And we would tell each other.

We'd sit there all night; laughing and crying, spilling our hearts out to each other and no one ever knew – the moon was our witness, the stars could tell you what we shared together, but if you didn't know how to read them properly, those secrets died on the wind.

Every time I pray.

I continued my drunken trek across the dock until I finally made it to the end. I slowly lowered my legs and planted myself on the edge where my legs spilled over and hovered over the frozen pond. A wave of nostalgia washed over me, soothing and warm and worming its way across my chest until I felt its pleasant sting, the tug of a memory almost forgotten but revived again.

There was a defining moment that tested our relationship together, and when I think back to it, even now as I sit upon the edge of the dock, waving my legs about in the air like we used to, I wish I could have sensed the sincerity in his voice, the seriousness in his pleads. He had told me he was sick of dying, he was horribly and dreadfully sick of being alive one moment and never knowing when he was going to be gone the next. He was afraid, he had said, he was afraid of never coming back again and I remember seeing it in his eyes, a whirlpool of intense blue that sparked and crackled with life – a life that was constantly drained time and time again.

I wish I could have paid more attention to him. I wish I could have paid more heed to his worries. At that time, I had merely laughed it off. "Impossible," I had said.

I never knew that it was in fact very possible.

I'll be missing you.

"What am I supposed to do now?" I cried out into the air, tears welling at the corners of my eyes and frothing over like steady streams. I piqued my head and looked up into the night sky, the stars blanketing its expanse and glittering with resolve. I anchored my eyes on the moon, bright and big and hanging densely in the air like an absolute spectator, always watching and never saying anything. I furrowed my brow and grit my teeth, an overwhelming sense of rage consuming my body.

Thinking of the day.

"You were there!" I spat up to it, the tone of my voice startling me. "You saw it, didn't you? You saw how he went!" I hadn't a clue as to why I was having a heated argument with the moon, but for some reason I felt that it was real, as if it was looking down at me and shaking its head in pity. I didn't need its pity – I didn't want it.

When you went away.

"You watched him fall!" I continued, goose bumps rising along my covered arms. "You could have warned me!"

But then, it wasn't the moon's fault.

It was mine.

It was all mine.

If I hadn't asked him to meet me, he wouldn't have fallen.

He wouldn't have died.

I wouldn't have had to wake up from the sound of a heavy thud slamming against the icy earth. I wouldn't have had to practically tear down the stairs two steps at a time. I wouldn't have had to stand there in my bare feet as the snow slowly numbed my toes, staring down at his lifeless form all mangled and twisted unnaturally across the ground.

I wouldn't have had to see the stream of blood slowly trickling out his mouth, where it had formed a vermilion colored pool alongside the mud and the grass and the ice. The red amidst the white didn't look good together – it was sickening.

What a life to take.

I sat there at the edge of the dock, my shoulders shaking and my wrist covering my eyes, a half-assed attempt at trying to quell the tears. When everything was getting so good, why did you have to go? Why you? Why was it always you?

What a bond to break.

"I'll be missing you."


A/N: Sorry it was so depressing. D: Review?