Author's Notes: Most of these drabbles (definately not 100 words, oops) are going to be unconnected and told through a variety of different perspectives. For clarity's sake, I'll mention the POV in the chapter title. Enjoy!
POV: Kyle
Pairing: Kenny/Stan
XXX
Okay, so I think I've got it figured out. Kenny dies, right? Gets run through with swords, concussed by hot frying pans, crushed by stage lights, loses limbs, bleeds out, blah, blah, blah. But when he comes back, he's fixed. No scars, no cuts or scrapes, nothing. He looks the same as he ever did.
The lucky bastard always manages to get a clean bill of health somehow, maybe as a thank-you for getting Satan out of that abusive relationship. I've been hanging out with Kenny since we were five years old, and the only time I've seen a scratch on him was from a nasty accident in gym class. Javelins. Really gross.
I think any marks he keeps have to be non-lethal. You know, from superficial things like bumping your elbow or getting a paper cut.
Or being punched in the face.
I hadn't believed it when Cartman told me what exactly Stan and Kenny were doing in the locker rooms after P.E. I hadn't believed it when Wendy let slip that Kenny had taken off after Tweek. I hadn't believed it when Stan looked me in the eye and denied the whole thing. I hadn't believed it when Kenny stood on the icy railroad tracks outside his house, arms crossed, and told me that Stan was better off.
"Dude, he needs to grow the fuck up."
All I remember after that is balling up my fist and splitting his lower lip wide open.
Five months and eight deaths later, the scar is still there, white and puffy. It hasn't done any damage to the infamous McCormick charm, but I didn't really expect it to.
Stan loves it.
XXX
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