A/N
This was written for my cousin, Iloveyaoi13, and I already know she loves it. Happy Birthday, babe. Haha.
Anyways, all others: read, possibly review, and most of all, enjoy.
xoxos
Kenny was beginning to grow highly frustrated. He was tired of dying; he was tired of living. He was tired of keeping his secret, he was tired of no one believing him. (Come on, Mint Berry Crunch existed, why not an immortal that's actually experienced death?) He was so sick and tired of his friends vaguely remembering him dying, then acting as if it didn't matter simply because he was standing and breathing in front of them somehow. He wished he had someone to talk to. Sometimes he felt so alone.
But lately, he hadn't been dying as often. It was either a miracle or some sick joke - probably the latter. Because although he was happy to be alive, he was edgy. Even alone he wasn't sure when he would die. How he would die. Who he would see last before the nothingness, or Hell, or, on rare occasions, Heaven.
Kenny wished he could tell someone.
But then - possibly it was Satan or God, or maybe even Jesus or Damien - but something good happened. Well, good for him, anyways.
Butters Stotch had been labeled a lunatic. A violent psychopath. Crazy.
If he said something incredible, no one would believe him.
Kenny continued to glance in Butter's direction, hoping the other blonde would somehow feel his gaze. It seemed to work, because Butters turned his head in his direction, bright blue eyes widening in shock at Kenny's blatant staring.
'Meet me at the slide after school,' Kenny slowly, silently mouthed.
Butters cheeks turned a light pink. It was odd, Butters becoming like that, but Kenny didn't mind. The boy was awfully odd, regardless.
After Mr. Garrison finished explaining the formula to being a celebrity and sentence structure, Kenny briskly grabbed his brown paper lunch bag, walking out the door and taking a left, headed for the playground.
It took a bit longer for Butters to exit the building, spotting Kenny sitting on top of the slide, the latter's eyes focused at his torn shoes. The light fell over Kenny's figure, causing his orange parka to glow. Butters walked towards Kenny, backpack in tow, and smiled softly, "You look like an angel."
Kenny blinked, momentarily shocked. Naivety allowed people to be honest with their thoughts, he supposed.
"Do I?" he murmured in response, going down the slide and standing up. Kenny noted that he's grown a bit taller than Butters since they entered fourth grade. "Butters, I have something to say. You won't believe me," Kenny considered that, "well, maybe you will."
"I will, Kenny. I don't think you'd lie." Butters said.
Kenny pursed his lips. For being dubbed a 'violent psychopath' who was diagnosed with multiple personality disorder, Butters was pretty trusting. (Kenny logically knew that these were wrong diagnoses. He seriously wished South Park wasn't full of dim-witted adults.)
Kenny took in a breath. "I've.. died." Kenny paused for a moment to allow it to sink in. "Many times."
Butters blinked slowly, rubbing his hands together in his nervous fashion. Kenny decided to continue.
"I've shot myself, died from jacking off in a Batman costume while strangling myself, been shot by Wendy and Bebe while at the dinner table, eaten by a dinosaur - which even I believe was a hallucination. I mean, really, what the fuck?"
Kenny stopped, looking away from Butters' horrified expression, "Crushed by a brick, thrown myself onto spikes, shot by the goth kids, overdosing on what I thought were mentos, seizure, spontaneous combustion.."
"Are.. Are you a zombie?" Kenny looked at Butters' face, filled with fear. He laughed sardonically.
"No, I'm not." He saw the relief pass through the others face, "But, I've been a zombie." he admitted, smirking at the confusion. "I died then, too, kind of."
They stood in a tense, thick silence. Butters opened and closed his mouth, indecisive on the words he wished to choose. Kenny then felt shock and amazement pass through him to his very core as Butters' eyes teared up. This was not what he expected.
Butters looked up at him, his lower lip trembling. He then asked, in a shaky voice, "Did I ever kill you?"
Kenny's mouth parted, his breathing halted. Again, not what he expected. He thought about it, going through all of his memories. "No, you haven't." he answered after a bit of consideration.
Butters stepped forward, his hand lifting slowly, as if Kenny were a skittish rabbit. Butters' tears continued to pool, the blonde refusing to let them go.
"I'm sorry for forgetting." he whispered.
Butters' apology sent a strong surge of pain through his entire being, stabbing his soul in the most heart-breaking of ways. He realized at that exact moment that that's why he wanted to tell someone. He needed an apology. He deserved an apology! It wasn't his fault he was cursed! It was his drugged up, poor, red-neck parents' fault!
Kenny hated the pain of dying, but he hated knowing he would die and no one would try to save him. He was tired of that loneliness that no one, not even Jesus, could understand.
Butters slowly pulled down his hood, Kenny's first reaction to tug it back up. But before his hands reached his parka's hood, he saw the look in Butters' eyes, and dropped his hands, allowing the other boy to do what he wished. "I, uh, don't remember if you already told me.. but, if I ever forget.. tell me again."
Kenny felt the wind blowing through his messy hair for the first time in a while and smiled. Butters cheeks turned rosy in colour. "I will," Kenny leaned in, placing his lips softly on Butters cheek, "I promise."
Butters' face flamed, his blush spreading from ear To ear. Kenny expected the ever-so-slightly smaller boy to ask why he did, but as he's noticed, Butters didn't follow his predictions like others did.
Butters stammered with 'uhm's and 'uh's, looking everywhere else before he looked back at Kenny, "Promise me again?" he squeaked out, flustered.
Kenny was bewildered before it all clicked, and laughed, amused. He gave Butters a soft, sweet kiss on the lips, feeling the boy's heat radiate.
"I won't forget this, Ken."
And Kenny for once had hope that this boy, at least, would remember his secret.