the title of this collection is from the song titled, funnily enough, 'Chemical Kids and Mechanical Brides', by Pierce the Veil. no copyright infringment intended etc etc etc :P

Pairings: Stenny if you have your slash goggles on (and why wouldn't you be with this delicious pairing? :D)

enjoy!

a/n

Kenny at last found Stan sitting on the railroad tracks, watching the wind push the trees. He was too pale to be peaceful, too still to be angry.

"Sup?" He asked, though his hood muffled it into 'Huph?'

Stan shrugged, not taking his eyes away from the swaying trees.

"You'll think I'm a faggot, dude." He said. Kenny grinned an unhappy, ironic sort of grin.

"Dude, I'm not Cartman. You can talk to me." He was sort of insulted Stan thought he'd say something like that. Being an asshole was all Cartman's gig, not his.

Stan squinted into the distance and bit his lip. Kenny wished, just for once, people would stop treating him like their confession dumpster. He loved his friends, sure, but they had a tendency to tell him all of their emotional shit with this look in their eyes like he was just there as scenery. He was so sick of being scenery.

"Kyle's moving." Stan said at last. His voice was unsteady.

Kenny swallowed. He had known it was something big, something important. And thought of life without Kyle was aching and sad.

"I'm sorry, man." He mumbled. Stan shrugged, his face desolate.

"Nothing you can do, unless you can teleport all the way back from California." He sounded sarcastic and harsh, keeping his eyes on the tossing branches. It was like he didn't even see Kenny, couldn't even hear him talking.

"Yeah." Kenny said, not even bothering to hide the bitter note in his voice. His parka would do that for him, if Stan's apathy didn't. They were trustworthy that way.

Except somehow neither did.

"What's wrong, dude?" Stan asked, finally tearing his gaze away from the tees to look at Kenny.

"I am here, you know." He said, acidic. Stan frowned. He hadn't understood. They never fucking understood.

Something in Kenny's belly burst into flame with all the power and finesse of an atom bomb. Years of pent-up frustration, of misunderstandings, of being forgotten and let down and left out, of just generally being Kenny, exploded inside him.

"I said, I am here." He snapped, yanking back his hood. His gesture might seem small to an ordinary passerby, but it was monumentally important to anyone that knew anything. The rage and disappointment and bitterness were snapping along his nerves like electric current.

"I'm here, you motherfucker, and you guys just don't seem to care." He continued. He viciously loved the way his voice sang in the air, dull knives on piano wires. It was free, and predatory, and damnit he wanted someone to listen to him for once.

"Kenny, I-," Stan started to say. Kenny cut him off with a hiss. He half hated himself for doing this when Stan was so vulnerable, so sad, but the guilt was only more fuel for the vindictive flames eating their way up his throat. He was a hawk halfway through its dive, a train hurtling off its tracks, the lit fuse touching dynamite. He couldn't stop, wouldn't stop, not for anything.

"You know what? Fuck you. Fuck you, and fuck Kyle, and fuck Cartman, and fuck the whole damn world. You think you're all alone, so sad since Kyle's moving away." Kenny took a deep breath, tilting his head back to look down on Stan. He felt restless, reckless, helpless and powerful at the same time. Stan was staring at him, really looking at him, with shock and other emotions that Kenny had inspired, that were connected only to Kenny, were not someone else's leftovers. And fuck, it felt so good to have Stan's attention, all of it, on him, and only him.

"But you know, you aren't the only one who'll miss Kyle. I will too! And Kyle isn't your only friend." Kenny wouldn't have stopped himself now if the president of the United States had walked up, personally delivering a check for a trillion dollars. This was the truth spilling out of his mouth, crystallizing out of the pool of years of being second best. Because that was what he was, wasn't he? Second, always and forever, in everything. And maybe he couldn't help being a little selfishly glad that Kyle was going, just so he could have Stan all to himself.

Well, not now. He had Stan's attention and he wasn't ever going to let go.

"I'm here. I'm real, ok?" He took a step back, the energy in him cutting off as suddenly as it had poured forth. And now there was room for worries and regret in him, the emotions welling up to replace the emotional void the anger had left. What was Stan thinking? Had Kenny gone too far, revealed too much?

Stan sat with his mouth open and his eyes wide, the picture of someone stunned beyond rationality. The trees that Kenny had been second too swayed behind him. Their needled branches made rushing noises that only accented the silence.

"Dude?" he asked at last. Stan's wide eyes had taken on a shell-shocked cast that was scaring Kenny. He had only wanted acknowledgment, attention. He hadn't meant to do anything bad.

Stan blinked, coming back to life. The glazed look in his eyes disappeared and Kenny heaved a sigh of relief. He'd rather be scenery than hurt one of his friends. Things could go back to normal now and they wouldn't ever mention this again, even if Kenny would remember this as one more in a long line of failures.

And the Stan took two steps and wrapped his arms around Kenny.

Kenny hissed out a breath. He knew what this was. Stan and Kyle, they used these all the time. he had seen them. These were best-friend hugs. The kind that made him feel lonely just because he would never have someone to share them with.

It felt like justice, having one now.

"I'm sorry, dude." Stan whispered, before stepping back. Kenny looked at him. And blinked. And breathed.

a/n

is my consumate love for kenny obvious? i think it is! :D