Eric Cartman is alone in his room after he is unfrozen in the future. He asks K-10 to access the data on his friends. [Cartman/Kyle Implications]

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

I love the Cartman/Kyle coupling more and more each day. I hate the idea of Stan/Kyle, it's too canon, Kyman has so many more obstacles to leap over to make it to fruition. It's so sweet because even though South Park is a funny, assholish show that doesn't really focus on feelings, the characters could have so much depth.

I mean, has anyone ever wondered why Eric Cartman is the way he is?

I wrote this story while watching the Go, God, Go trilogy. In the examination room when Cartman is first unfrozen, a man named Svec from the Unified Atheist League tells him that everyone he has ever known is dead. He doesn't seem to care in that moment, but I wonder if when no one is watching, does he care?

So, I sat around and thought up weird futures for everyone. There are no real "pairings" in this, only mentioned ones.

This story is meant to be a lesson about never keeping your feelings in because lying about them is going to destroy you. I hope that you find a way to tell people the truth about how you feel. Don't hide anymore. Right after you finish this story, run right to that specific person's house and scream your feelings for them!

When I wrote this originally, I was pining over my ex and though I did not know it at the time, everything in this story was even truer for me than I thought at the time. It turned out that the ex I wanted was not the one I needed. I ended up realizing that the man by my side through my terrible break-up, my best friend, was the one for me. If I hadn't pursued my feelings and told him I liked him then we wouldn't be together today.

This story was edited on 6-1-2012 because it has inspired many people, I wanted to correct the grammatical errors in it as well as changing a couple minor things. Please enjoy.

PAIRINGS: Cartman/Kyle, Stan/Wendy, Kenny/Shelly

South Park © Trey Parker & Matt Stone

"Future Shock"

Eric Cartman tossed himself back into his chrome bed, staring at the bland ceiling. He hadn't been alone in the future for a while. He'd been working diligently to get his Wii by tricking the otters, the Unified Atheist League, and the United Atheist Alliance. All he wanted was to play that game system…

He wondered how long he would be stuck in the future, if it would be for a short while or the rest of his life. He hadn't bothered thinking that far ahead. Actually, he had no idea how to get out of the situation at hand or go back in time. When he was unfrozen, Svec mentioned that everyone he had ever known was dead. For a second, he contemplated how much his freezing himself had affected their lives.

Eric Cartman was well aware of the fact that he was an asshole. He always was and probably always would be. His behavior had set off so many conflicts amongst his friends. He felt responsible for almost everything that had transpired during their rocky childhood.

I'm sure everyone's lives were better without me. Especially Kyle's…

As soon as his thoughts fell onto the freckle-faced redhead, they paused. Suddenly, he found himself speculating how Kyle's life must have ended up. He was always so smart. Eric assumed that he probably grew up, became valedictorian, got married to his High School girlfriend, went to college to become a successful Jew lawyer and lived out his days in the suburbs in a house with the white picket fence, the dog, and the two point five kids. Kyle always did like dogs. Eric thought.

He wished he could find out what had happened to all of them. It occurred to him abruptly that he could ask K-10, the mechanical canine had to have records or something that could give him the answers he wanted. Eric sat up, his shiny clothes squeaking with is movement. "K-10! YOU STUPID ROBOT DOG! Come in here!" he called out.

The metallic dog sidled into the room clumsily, "Bark. Bark. What is it, Eric? Bark. Bark." He asked, his metal body clanking with his motions. Eric sat up, blowing a wisp of birch hair from his eyes. He glared at the annoying metal animal.

"Will you access anything you have on Leanne Cartman?" he demanded. The robot nodded curtly and Eric heard the whirring and clacking of the gears. The room filled with a low series of beeps as the dog began scanning data, the screen on his stomach displaying a series of numbers and letters whirling far too fast for the brunette to read.

"This is your mother, Eric? Bark. Bark." K-10 questioned him.

"Yes."

"Leanne Cartman." the automated canine repeated the name in his metallic voice. "After you disappeared, she left South Park to work at the Playboy Mansion. Despite her age, she was accepted by Hugh Heffner as one his personal Playboy Bunnies within her first month of employment. She was said to give the most satisfactory oral sex in the state." he explained. Eric scrunched up his nose in disgust. "Leanne went on to perform in several pornographic films, winning awards for her roles in The Diary of a Mad Black Penis, Hide & Prejudice, and Shaving Private Ryan. She married the adult-film director Slash Powers and passed away at the age of sixty-four of Chlamydia. Her husband remarried a twenty-four year old startlet two weeks after the funeral." K-10 informed him. Eric rolled his eyes, I saw that one coming. He thought, spitefully.

"What about Kenny McCormick?" he prodded, sitting up straighter and leaning forward to get a better view of the screen on the robot dog's stomach. He drew his legs up into his body and propped his chin on his knees. His hazel eyes widened when a picture of a handsome blonde man in late twenties filled the screen. He wouldn't have recognized the man as Kenny without the sparkling blue eyes, glinting mischievously.

"Kenneth McCormick." the metallic pup mused, "At the age of eleven, his mother stabbed his father to death. Child Protective Services put Kenneth into foster care, in a different house from his younger sister Karen. Due to the stress of the separation he started drinking. He became an alcoholic by the age of thirteen. By sixteen, he was doing marijuana and still drinking in excess. At eighteen, he was performing sex acts for money to obtain cocaine and heroin." K-10 said. Eric's eyes widened and he clutched his knees tightly. He had no idea that he felt so deeply for Kenny, but hearing about the downward spiral he had put himself into made Eric's heart ache.

"A woman found him passed out on her front porch on January 12, 2016 and took him to a clinic." K-10 continued, ignoring the shaking boy before him. "In the rehabilitation center, his counselor and future wife, helped him get clean and stay sober for the rest of his years. At the age of twenty-two he completed school and began social work at the same clinic that had saved him and eventually reunited with his sister. Sadly, at the age of forty-two both he and his wife were killed in a shoot-out in the lobby of the treatment center. Their three children went to live with his sister, Karen."

"Who was his wife?" Eric questioned, readjusting himself. He fiddled with the shiny fabric of his futuristic clothes, frowning as it chaffed his skin.

K-10 checked his files, "Shelly Marsh." he said. Eric coughed in surprise. He had always thought of Shelly as a heartless she-beast who fed on the souls of small children. He would have never thought her capable of loving anyone, let alone becoming a social worker! He smiled to himself, at least Kenny was happy. He loved his work. He loved his wife. It was quite obvious that Kenny McCormick's life was much better without Eric Cartman and his sordid ways. Maybe it was a good thing he was stuck here. He sighed.

"Tell me about Stan Marsh?"

"Bark. Bark. Accessing. Bark. Bark." the robotic voice clanged as he answered him. A photo of two raven-haired teenagers aging about eighteen popped up on the screen. Eric recognized Stan Marsh immediately although the boy in the picture was considerably taller than his boyhood pal, with broader shoulders and mature features. He had the slight build of a football player, which Eric assumed he was. He was dressed in a thick sweatshirt with the South Park Cows logo on it and his signature blue and red puff-ball hat.

Stan had his arm wrapped around a pretty dark haired woman. Her obsidian hair was long and sleek, reaching just past her slender shoulders. She was dressed in a loose, violet bohemian style top and slightly worn-out pink beret. The two youths were grinning at each other, so obviously in love. The genuineness of their smiles shone through the pixels and Eric knew that they were pure, not the fake smiles one usually wears when getting their photo taken.

"Stanly Marsh. Bark. Bark." K-10 said, his voice almost overpowered by the whirling gears in his gut. "He married his High School girlfriend, Wendy Testaburger when they were both twenty-two." he informed him. So that's Wendy? Eric couldn't help but smile to himself. He didn't have anyone but a simple-minded robot dog looking at him now. Nobody to judge him. Nobody to perform for. He didn't have to be mean. He could just love his friends. "They both graduated from Harvard University, him with a degree in veterinary sciences and her with one in law. They started an activist group for animal lovers in their early thirties and went around the country protesting the use of animals as test subjects for cosmetics and sales of fur. Bark. Bark."

In spite of himself, Eric laughed out loud. He was glad that the automated canine lacked the ability to judge, due to his primary programming. He could be as normal as he wanted to be. He grinned, "Hippie dickweeds…" Eric muttered.

The mechanical pup continued, "They also managed to shut down PETA after proving that the organization's members had improper sexual relationships with animals. They moved back to South Park in their mid-thirties and Stanley became the local veterinarian while Wendy Testaburger-Marsh started a law firm. They had one child of their own, a boy named Eric Kyle Testaburger-Marsh." Eric's eyes widened. They named their son after me? Maybe someone did miss me?

He shook the thought from his head. He knew no one else would care if he was gone, especially one person. "What happened to… Kyle Broflovski?" he struggled with the name, barely managing to whisper his inquiry. He had a fleeting worry that all the times he wished AIDS onto him might actually have come true. His stomach twisted.

K-10 woofed pleasantly as he retrieved the data, "Kyle James Broflovski. There is no information on this individual, except that he committed suicide by shooting himself in the head at the age of sixteen." Eric's breath caught in this throat.

"W—What!" Eric choked in disbelief. He felt an unfamiliar emotion washing over him, like his heart was being wrung out like a sponge. He thought he might puke. Kyle had killed himself? Why would he do that? What could have happened to make him take his own life?

"Bark. Bark. He left a letter. Bark. Bark. I have it on file." K-10 said, his body clanking.

Eric hopped off the bed, grabbing the metal dog by his shoulders and tugging him until he was mere centimeters from his face, growling. "Give it to me! Print out the fucking letter, you goddamned dog!" he spat.

"Yes, Eric. Bark. Bark." the dog yapped, ignoring his outburst. Eric heard the low hiss of a printer as it went through its cycle. A piece of paper slid out of the robot's mouth and the plump brunette snatched it from the opening so quickly he nearly ripped it. The letter in his hands was still warm in his shaking hands as he began to read the note.

It wasn't typed. It was scribbled in Kyle's perfect handwriting. Eric had always adored the condensed, scratchy penmanship of the curly-haired Jew. Had he ever been given the chance, he would have turned that gorgeous handwriting into a computer font and used it all the time. Secretly, of course.

His hazel eyes scanned the paper with such ferocity that the words blurred together, almost too unfocused to read. He mouthed each word as he read.

To Whom It May Concern:

I, Kyle Broflovski, being of sound mind and blah blah blah… Fuck It. I'm not going to do this. This isn't a will, it's a suicide note. I don't need to give away all my stuff, I don't care who takes it. Have a yard sale. Sell it to a pawn shop. I don't give a shit!

I can't take life anymore. Over the last seven years, I have slowly slid downhill into a pool of my own depression. I have tried on many occasions to remember the last time I was truly happy. Only one stretch of time comes to mind, the days I spend with my three best friends having every misadventure known to man.

When I was thirteen I realized I was gay. I don't really give a fuck if it's against the rules of God or whatever, that was never important to me. I came out to my parents and surprisingly, they were totally fine with it. So I dated…

I dated and I dated and I dated. I dated every gay boy from South Park to Denver, but I could never fill the empty space in my heart. To Clyde Donovan, Craig Tucker, Tweek Tweak, Christophe, all of you. I'm sorry I broke your hearts. Craig and Tweek? I am glad you found each other. The same goes to Gregory and Christophe. Cherish each other and please don't hold it against me. It's just, I think I found my "one and only" many years before I knew who I was.

I am referring, of course, to Eric Cartman.

All those years, I thought I hated Eric but I never really did. I think I thought that fighting was the only way I could get communicate with him, get close to him. So I fought. I took his rude comments and threw some right back. Now I understand that all I really wanted was for him to pay attention to me.

The day that Eric disappeared, I felt as though my life ended. My will to live simply dried up. I never found anyone who could infuriate me in the same way that stupid little fat-ass could and my life became an empty void. I don't know what happened to Eric. I don't think anyone does, but I want to see him and I think death is the only way.

As for my final requests: Stan. You were always my best friend and I love you. If you and Wendy ever get married and have kids, will you name one after Eric? I think he should be honored. I don't want him to think we forgot him. I never want to forget him. Also, please take care of Ike for me, don't let him do stupid shit.

Kenny. I don't know where you are now or what you're doing, but I'm sure you'll find your way back home. You always do. Don't destroy yourself, you mean a lot to me. You should live. You deserve to be happy and find someone who really loves you.

Oh, and as for my Nintendo Wii. Please put it on Eric's grave. Thank you.

There is nothing holding me to this Earth. I hope that in the next life I can be happy with all my friends again, like back when we were eight. Maybe I'll see Eric. I hope I do. I'll be watching you all.

Sincerely Yours,

Kyle

Eric clamped his hand over his mouth and choked as he read the letter. Tears welled up in his eyes until they dripped down his face, falling onto his body and dotting the shiny fabric like tiny stars. He clutched the paper in his meaty hands, shaking violently. He was only nine years old, but he had never been sadder in his entire life.

The sobs racked throughout his body as he held Kyle's final letter to his broad chest, his last piece of security. He shook with his wails, screaming out pain he did not know he held. He wasn't forgotten, but because of it someone he cared about, even if only in secret, had taken his own life as consequence. He felt like his world was coming apart by the seams, a single strand pulled on a garment that causes it to unfurl into a pile of yarn.

How could he do this?

Suddenly, it occurred to him, Kyle loved him. He said so, in writing no less. Eric lay on the floor, tears still streaming silently down his face and stared up at the ceiling. He had not been forgotten. The one person he thought would try to erase his existence once he was gone had cared for him the whole time.

If he ever got back he would treat Kyle differently.

"Bark. Bark. Eric, are you okay?"

"Y—Yeah…" Eric stuttered, swallowing his tears and smiling. He wiped his face with his chunky hand, accidentally scraping his face with the scratchy galactic fabric. Eric pushed himself off the floor and walked over to the window, looking at the futuristic society outside. He turned his gaze above the city to the skyline, which looked exactly the same as it did back in his time. "Yeah," he repeated, "I think I'm gonna be okay."

Eric smiled as he spotted a cloud that looked like Kyle, watching over him. The only boy he'd ever loved.

No one is ever really forgotten. There is not one person on this Earth that isn't the world to someone. Sometimes, we don't even realize how much we meant to someone until we're gone. Sometimes, it takes us forever to see that the person we need to be with is right in front of us.

Keeping your feelings inside and shielding emotions with harshness and cruelty makes you suffer. It is hard to put your feelings on the line due to fear and the possibility of rejection. The truth is, that it is a million time harder to keep your emotions bottled up inside when you watch your perfect moment slip away.

END