Title: Minutes Are A Joke
Author: Daisy
Fandom: South Park
Setting: Hell's Pass Hospital
Pairing: Christophe/Kyle Broflovski
Characters: Christophe, Kyle Broflovski, Stan Marsh, Kenny McCormick, Butters Stotch
Genre: Romance/Hurt/Comfort
Rating: T
Chapters: 1/1
Word Count: 575
Type of Work: One-Shot
Status: Complete
Warnings: Gay, Slash, Yaoi, Character Death, Cancer, Unbeta'd
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Summary: Kyle's last request is to tell Christophe something important. Christophe can't believe he was away so long.
AN: Here we have another piece for the Fanfiction-Friends Weekly Writing Prompts. This week's prompt is Running Out Of Time, and I knew I'd end up writing something angsty. x.x So, here we go!
Minutes Are A Joke ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Kyle Broflovski didn't let himself have regrets. His life was so strange, always being thrown into the line of fire, that he'd decided at a young age to just roll with the punches and make it the best he could.
When he was told he had cancer, and a short few months to live, it had shocked him out of his life for a solid two weeks. He didn't talk to anyone, he barely did anything but lay around the house. Bronchial cancer, in its last stage. Who would have thought? He'd never smoked a lot in his life, just a few times here and there, and here he was, about to die from it.
Around the time he'd been escorted to the hospital by Stan, Kenny and Butters, he'd known that it was time for him to go. He was running out of time, staring at his cell phone, wanting to call him. He'd been pussyfooting about it for years, now; he really ought to tell him.
It hadn't been hard to dial the familiar numbers, to hear that French accent hurriedly asking 'what?', but what had been hard was speaking.
"Christophe… It's Kyle. I'm dying."
"What? Non? You are kidding, yes?"
"No…" Kyle glanced at the heart monitor, "Can you come down to Hell's Pass? I… Need to tell you something in person."
"Can it not wait?" The sound of liquid gurgling out of a throat could be heard, "I'm busy."
"I… S-sure, are you even in-country?"
"...Non, I am sorry."
"When are you due to come back?"
"In a month's time or so."
Kyle paled, his eyes glassy.
"I… Will try to hang on."
"Kyle…?"
"Goodnight, Mole. Have fun." With that, he hung up, closing his eyes.
In the days to come, he felt himself growing weaker immeasurably. His entire body was tired constantly, and it was harder to get out of bed. Kenny took down a message for him, dutiful to the end like a good friend. Stan would come chat with him here and there, and Butters snuck him in some lemon cookies at one point. He said a little pinch of sugar could help in the dark times ahead.
By the time Christophe appeared, he was a sweaty, panting mess. He'd ran from his departure point all the way to the hospital, bursting into the room they said Kyle was in. The young man looked so peaceful, so still… And his blood ran cold.
"Kyle?" He questioned, gulping a little.
No response.
Stepping further into the room, he brandished the flowers he'd stolen from someone else's room, "Kyle?"
"Mm…?" Roused from his sleep, the redhead looked over and offered a weak smile, "Chris? You came."
"I did." He responded, gulping a little as he sat beside the other, handing him the wet bouquet.
"I just… Wanted to see you one last time. Any day now." He gestured to the setup he had, "I love you."
"...what?" Blinking slightly, the elder male stood up and pressed his hands to the hospital bed, "What? Say it again."
"...I love you." Kyle whispered, coughing shortly after.
Christophe was quiet for a few moments, as if trying to process this.
"Je t'aime, Kyle." He finally whispered, just as the loud screaming beep of the heart monitor sounded he'd gone flat. It took six large orderlies to pull him from his fallen lover's side, tears in his eyes for the first time in years.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ AN: