Kyle Broflovski was crying.
The slight Jewish boy was cross-legged in the icy cold Colorado snow, soaking up tears with his green winter mitts. Twilight was setting in. The first stars slowly began to blink in over the twisted town of South Park.
Kyle's home.
It didn't feel like home, sometimes. That's why Kyle was crying. That's why he was gazing over Stark's Pond through blurry green eyes with a thorn in his heart and a weight in his belly. That's why he hardly noticed or cared about the snow that was slowly melting beneath him and soaking into his jeans.
South Park might truly be Hell.
Sometimes it was so exciting and fun to be whisked off on crazy adventures with his three friends, Stan, Kenny, and...
Well, two friends. And whatever Cartman was.
But sometimes Kyle was crushed by the overwhelming desire to have a normal life. All of the fucked up things that seemed to pour on week after week tried his sanity to the breaking point more times than he could count. He'd thought about dying more than he wanted to admit to himself, much less anyone else.
Who would believe me, anyway?His group didn't seem to see things the way he did. They always just kind of went along with it all. Stan, Kenny, and Cartman floated in the river of their nonsensical shit lives like sunbathing otters. They lived for the drama, the gore, the rush of insanity. They were a part of it. The center of it, even. Everyone else in the town of South Park seemed oblivious to their own twisted existence, too.
No matter how hard Kyle tried to do the right thing, nothing in his life ever changed. He was only ten, but he felt like he'd lived a hundred lifetimes. The memories of his experiences, all uniquely morbid, weighed on him heavily. He would never be able to explain this feeling to anyone he knew. They wouldn't understand... they just accepted their existence blindly.
Plus, everyone at school would give him endless shit if they saw him crying like a pussy.
Kyle gave a wet, nasty sniffle and took off his hat. The great, fluffy, green ushanka was the only hat that could contain his mess of wild red curls. God, he hated his hair. But his mother didn't want him to cut it. Kyle's hair looked just like Sheila's and she was too proud to let him get rid of it.
"Whoa, Kyle. The least you could do with your gross ginger hair is try to take care of it, you filthy Jew."
Kyle stopped crying abruptly and shoved his hat back on with all his might, grief dissolving into disgust and rage.
God damn it. God damn it!
"How long have you been standing there, you fat piece of shit?" he growled through gritted teeth.
"You don't need to know, Jew. Let's just say, long enough."
What was Cartman doing here? Why was this town so fucking small? He hated it, God, he hated everything!
"Why are you curled up here at the pond and crying like a bitch, Jew?"
"Fuck off," Kyle snarled.
"Was it something I did?" Cartman cooed mockingly. "That would be super sweet..."
"No." Kyle deadpanned.
"I think you're lying," Cartman chuckled. "I think I finally broke you and you just can't admit it. Was it when I swapped out your essay paper in class and everyone laughed at you and you got in soooo much trouble with your parents? Oh my God, that was good. Or was it the-"
"Aaaaagh!!!" Kyle burst out. "Shut up, I can't stand you!!"
The tears came again. Hatred and hurt battled inside of Kyle and overflowed down his cheeks. After everything he and Cartman had been through the fat shit still showed not even a shred of humanity or empathy. Kyle didn't want to be hurt by that, but he was. No matter how awful Cartman was, they had so much history that it was impossible to ignore. They might not like each other, but they were bonded, in whatever exasperating and terrible way.
He normally wouldn't break down in front of his "frenemy" like this but right now he felt so vulnerable that he found himself feebly wishing that somehow, if Cartman saw how miserable Kyle really was, he might show a small bit of mercy.
Anything, really.
Cartman stared at Kyle silently as the latter cried terribly. His eyebrows knitted together in a confused way, odd-colored eyes swimming with thoughts. He frowned, speechless for once, glancing around awkwardly, feeling uncomfortable. He played with his fingers a bit, trying to escape from the uncertainty he felt. The twilight had darkened into a velvet night sky, brimming with countless stars. The night time was cold and still and deathly quiet.
Kyle eventually stopped crying. His face was cold and sticky from where the tears had frozen on his cheeks. He stared at the reflections of the night sky shimmering on the pond's surface. Slowly he started to wonder if Cartman was even still there. Probably not.
For the first time, Kyle turned around.
Cartman was still standing there, distinctly not looking at Kyle.
"Are you going to talk shit about me at school tomorrow?" Kyle rasped defiantly.
Cartman shrugged and made an indecisive hum.
"I'm so sick of this town," Kyle ranted, suddenly compelled to be honest. "We go through so much bullshit and nothing ever changes. I've tried, so hard, to be the voice of reason, the force for good, and it means nothing. I mean nothing."
Shit, that last part just slipped out.
Cartman's eyebrows raised slightly. He still didn't look at Kyle, but he said,
"The good guys never win, Kyle. That's the way of the world. The real world. Not your dumb hippie fantasy world of rainbows."
"I don't expect everything to be rainbows!!" Kyle rebutted. "I just want people to realize when they're wrong. To try and change. I don't think the world will ever be perfect but I expect things to at least get better. But they don't."
Cartman and Kyle's eyes finally met.
"Well, Kyle, maybe you should stop worrying about everyone else so much. You're not the fucking Messiah, you Jew. The world's been fucked up a long time, you can't change that, stupid."
Kyle stared at Cartman, feeling defiant but also shocked. The fatass had actually, sort of just said something kind of helpful.
"I feel like nothing I do matters," Kyle whispered.
"Uh, yeah, that's because it doesn't," Cartman said with a slight chuckle.
"But I want it to!" Kyle shouted, even though he felt like a whiny brat.
"Too fucking bad, princess!" Cartman yelled back. "Nobody cares! That's why you're sitting at the pond bawling your eyes out like a little girl? Because you have some kind of savior complex? Get your head out of your ass, Kyle. You're such a conceited Jew."
"I'm not conceited!!" Kyle shouted, face getting red. "I just want to do something useful with my life, unlike you! You are a culmination of every shitty thing that has ever existed in this world!! It's people like you that make this world so messed up and unbearable for decent people, like me!"
"Hmmm," Cartman hummed, tapping his chin with his finger, "that sounds pretty conceited to me, Kyle."
"Aargh!" Kyle exclaimed, turning away from Cartman again.
After a couple of moments, the snow crunched beside him and in his peripheral vision he saw Cartman sit down in the snow next to him. Kyle scoffed irritably.
Cartman scoffed back, furrowing his eyebrows angrily, but he didn't move away.
"What did I ever do to you, Cartman?" Kyle asked abruptly, feeling bold and venemous all of the sudden. "I never asked you that. You know, I try to be a friend to you, no matter that you don't deserve it. Why? Why do you take out all your dumb bullshit on me?"
"Because you're a goody two-shoes Jew fag," Cartman said. "You think you're the fucking shit and that you're always right and you always know what's best and everyone should just listen to you and the world would be perfect."
"I operate on good morals, fatass!" Kyle spat back. "So yes, I think the world would be a much better place if other people did the same!"
Cartman raised his voice mockingly,
"OoooOoooh I'm Kyle and I have perfect morals and the world would be a better place if only everyone was perfect like meee!"
"Shut up! You know that's not what I meant!"
"Well it's what you fucking said!"
Kyle resisted the urge to immediately respond and took a deep breath instead. Maybe... if he just let Cartman's brashness roll off his back, this might actually turn out to be a salvageable conversation.
"I don't intend to come off that way," Kyle said carefully. "I really do want what's best for everyone."
"You want what you think is best for everyone."
Kyle paused at this. He and Cartman stared hard at each other. After a moment Kyle sighed and put his chin in his hands, staring back over the water.
"I want a normal life," he said, almost wistfully. "Every other day some messed up shit happens to us."
"Would you rather have a boring as shit life?" Cartman asked, cocking an eyebrow.
"I think so."
Another pause.
"That's fucking stupid," Cartman grumbled.
Kyle was prompted to mentally flip through all of the crazy experiences he'd had in his home town and beyond. He was pretty sure he had PTSD from most of them. He'd seen the absolute worst humanity had to offer. Things that made him question the worth of life on this Earth.
Wouldn't he rather be naive? Wouldn't he rather erase all that from his mind forever?
I mean, I guess not, actually. Some of it, yeah, but...But that craziness was a part of him. His history made him who he was. He was tougher and wiser for his trials. And the bonds he'd made along the way couldn't be replaced.
Even...
"Actually, no," Kyle spoke up.
"What?" Cartman asked.
"No, I... I guess I wouldn't rather have a boring life," Kyle admitted.
"Glad you finally see the light, Kyle," Cartman said.
Kyle looked at Cartman again. After a second he smiled just slightly.
"I feel kinda better," Kyle said simply.
"Whatever," Cartman grunted dismissively.
Kyle felt oddly light and free. He knew that he couldn't change things by himself. It would take years of effort and work before he could put himself in a position influential enough to make even a slight difference. That in itself was extremely frustrating. It was incredibly easy to give up on that distant future. But.. he could do it. And that small hope glimmered inside him.
I can.A small bit of warmth for Cartman flickered inside Kyle for just a moment. Even though Eric wasn't being overtly kind or supportive, he'd managed to lift Kyle's spirits in his own backwards way. Was it on purpose? Maybe... he cared?
Kyle felt a small flush of heat in his face and hoped he wasn't blushing. It was significantly awkward, sitting here next to his sworn enemy, who had stumbled across Kyle in his most vulnerable moment and not taken advantage of it.
"Um." Kyle started slowly, barely audible. "Th-thanks, Cartman."
"Don't thank me, Jew!" Cartman snapped immediately. "I hate you."
Kyle didn't miss the distinct lack of venom in that last bit.
"Ok, ok, fine," Kyle retorted, acting mad. "I take it back! Fuck you!"
"Fuck you!" Cartman retaliated.
The silence that followed was more comfortable. Both boys lost track of time just sitting and taking in the chilly, bright Colorado night. Neither needed to speak any more, nor wanted to. Eventually, the softness of night closed their eyes in sleep.
When morning came, most likely, the two would part with bitter words and go back to their comfort zone of rivalry.
Now though, when no one was watching, it was ok to let go of that. Just a little bit.
Kyle and Cartman may not be friends in the way most people understand it.
But they were content, just being, well, whatever they were.