A/N: This one is for kenyle on tumblr for the South Park Secret Santa, who's number one wish was some Kenny/Kyle. :) Yes, I did make something sort of fluffy and poignant based off "Humancentipad". :D
Angel of a Sort
"You're a shitty guardian angel, Kenny."
"I know," he sighs. "Sorry about all this."
They are hovering over Kyle's unconscious body, watching as surgeons begin the delicate process of taking apart his face.
"It's okay, I guess," Kyle says. "It's not like you really could've done anything about it. That bus didn't hit you until, what, ten minutes ago?"
"Yeah."
A companionable silence stretches between them. Death, or being so near to it, has a way of mellowing Kyle's anxieties. They've met in this ethereal place a few times before. On this occasion, Kenny has his wings.
"Not looking forward to going back this time," Kyle muses as his teeth are exposed in a most unnatural way.
"It'll suck," Kenny says, "but it won't last long."
"How do you know?"
"I'm here all the time, dude. I can tell."
They watch the gruesome procedure and engage in idle chat before time begins to pull on Kyle's soul at the operation's conclusion. He'll regain consciousness into a nightmare soon. Kenny puts a comforting arm around his friend's shoulders.
"Be strong, man. I'll be there as soon as I can."
The hospital room is dim and calm. Kenny sits in a chair by the bed, staring into space, thinking.
After the reconstructive surgery, Kyle spent most of the afternoon surrounded by his family and friends. When everyone else drifted away, trusting Kyle to be in good hands for the night, Kenny stayed behind. A shitty guardian angel he might be but he does what he can when he's able.
A hand pokes him in the shoulder and Kenny turns to see Kyle staring at him with slightly unfocused eyes, the pad of paper he's using to communicate turned outward.
Hey Kenny, is scrawled in Kyle's usually neater hand.
"Hey," Kenny's voice is muffled by his orange parka hood.
Thanks for staying. Didn't want to be alone.
"No problem. I'd really be a shitty guardian angel if I just left you by yourself after everything."
Kyle arches an eyebrow. Of course he wouldn't remember their earlier conversation. He never does.
"Just some stupid thought I had," Kenny shrugs.
They sit in familiar, companionable silence for awhile. Kenny kicks his feet idly.
Staying all night? Kyle scrawls eventually.
"Probably. It's warmer here than at my house. Maybe I can sneak some hospital food."
Something that sounds like a muffled laugh comes out from under Kyle's bandages before it's stifled with a wince.
"What? The food's good here," Kenny says, mock defensive.
Like you know.
"I do know! I'm here all the damn time. Sometimes long enough to eat."
Kyle's brow furrows in thought. He looks at Kenny almost like he's never seen the other kid before. His fingers tick off a steady rhythm in his lap, counting. After Kenny has stopped following Kyle's math and a heavy silence descends over them, the pencil skitters over the paper once more.
Dude, what the fuck?
Kenny shrugs. "If you remember when the meds wear off, I'll tell you again."
The look Kyle gives him is perplexed, tinged with frustrated annoyance, but resigned. Maybe it's just Kenny's imagination, but it seems like Kyle might almost remember, if only in a vague way, some of the other conversations like this they've had.
OK, whatever. I'm going to sleep.
"Okay. I'll be here when you wake up."
He waits until Kyle's breath evens out before giving in to the impulse that rose in him while Kyle was counting the number of times he watched Kenny die. Climbing onto his knees in the chair and resting his arms on the bed rail, Kenny leans over and places a light kiss on Kyle's forehead, his parka coming between them. He leans back to contemplate his friend's sleeping face and sees Kyle's eyes crack open just enough to write one more comment.
Dude. Gay.
"Whatever," Kenny grins.
His smile is reflected back in Kyle's tired face before his eyes close in peaceful sleep.
End.