It was the day. Eric Cartman growled lightly, staring out the window as a tear rolled silently down his face. He has to move. Far, far, far away. The words kept repeating through his head. Secrets. Jobs. Money. Murder. The last word stung and he brought a hand down onto the desk, splitting some of the polished top. Murder. He couldn't run away from that forever. He started crying heavily. He didn't want this to happen, never intended for the younger boy to see it happen, but he did. Now he must run. Run far, far, far away. He walked to his bookshelf and began steadily flipping pages in a small written journal he kept. His life plan was written in it. He ripped out every page with the word 'Kyle' written on it, eyes brimming with unshed tears. He wouldn't cry over that boy. Not now, not again. He'd been spending years ridding himself of that plague. He'd finally ruined every bit of a chance he'd had at being in a decent relationship with the Jewish boy. The night it happened. The murder. The secrets. It overwhelmed Eric. He clenched his fist, throwing the journal at the wall. Pictures of a red-headed boy flew all around, drifting to the floor. He let a sob escape him. The secrets pained him. He could've told the Jewish boy. No. No he wouldn't have. It was to much to bear. He couldn't face Kyle after that. Eric got up from his place and walked toward the door, embracing the night air. He'd leave his hiding. He'd return to South Park and make amends with Kyle. He'd have to eventually, wouldn't he? Eric sighed softly and walked up to a child waiting for him outside. The young girl was bundled with ragged coats.
"Ready Eric?" She asked, voice soft. She was ten, hair a soft brown. All of her clothing was ripped and her face littered with bruises. She was the sister of a good friend, Eric thought, he could trust her.
"Ready Karen." He whispered, breath a cold air in the night as they set off walking. The secrets... he hadn't kept them close to heart. Not until the night he must return. Not until the night he saw Kyle again. Karen looked up to Eric, he knew, she respected him. Everything he'd done she'd respected. She had no idea about the job, the murder, the secret... Eric sighed, banishing the thoughts from his head. She mustn't know, mustn't worry about this. It was none of her concern. They approached the small bus stop. Eric handed the driver a crisp fifty and the bus slowly moved along. The younger girl snuggled close to Eric for warmth as she dozed off. Eric pulled out his phone. He dialed an all too familiar number. The dial tone buzzed in his ear and he redialed. "Stan." He said thankfully into the receiver. Thank god he had picked up. Eric needed to speak to Stanley. Maybe he knew if Kyle was okay, if he wasn't torn to pieces yet. ... If he knew.
"What?" Stan growled. They weren't really on great terms. Eric sighed, holding Karen close to his side. She mustn't suffer for his mistakes. He knew the question would eventually come tumbling out of Eric's lips. Stan knew how Eric had felt about leaving South Park. When Stan was thirteen Eric had left. He, Kyle, and Karen's brother Kenny had laughed at his expense. They had no idea how much Eric was pained.
"How is he?" Eric asked. He didn't want the name to be spoken. It hurt him too much to know how much he'd hurt him.
"He isn't taking it well Fatass. He knows." Stan spoke the words with such hatred it pierced Eric's heart.
"How..." Eric forced out softly. How could he know. He'd tied the loose ends. He'd made sure of it. He wanted to live in peace with the boy. He never wanted this. Murder. It sent an ache through his heart to rethink the night. He forced the images away. It scarred him.
"He just... after what you have done. He just assumed. Who was I to tell him otherwise?" Stan hissed. Eric knew Stanley was with Kyle and it sent a shockwave of hatred through him. Like Stan hadn't known, like he hadn't helped. He knew Kyle was too naïve to understand the portion of the betrayal that Stan had done. Stanley had helped, and wasn't a bit regretful. Stan didn't even shed a tear in Kyle's expense.
"Does he know... does he realize you were a part of it?" Eric asked, an intense anger sparked in his voice that was rarely heard these days. The job. It had changed him. The job had changed him and he knew it. Eric hated to know that this had changed his ways more than anything else, even more than knowing he had killed his own father in fourth grade. He understood the pain he had caused, but he hadn't cared. He had no feelings. He was emotionless. He was nothing.
"No. He has no idea. I plan on keeping it that way." Stan whispered, some rustling in the background noise. Eric knew Kyle was awake. Knew he was approaching Stan. He clicked the button on the phone, hanging up on Stanley and dialing another number into the phone. The next person he needed to speak to was on other regards. The money, Eric thought.
"I have Karen." He spoke into the phone. He heard a soft sigh of relief. Karen was, and always will be, Kenny's sister. Eric looked into the night as they left Nebraska. Left the old dainty down that his family was raised in. He heard something outdoors and noticed the fireworks. July Fourth, he thought, the night it happened. The murder. The escape. Kenny's voice travelled through the telephone.
"Is she okay? Did she make it there?" Kenneth asked, worry lacing his voice. Eric sighed. She wasn't okay, he knew that. She had been alone. She hadn't been beside her brother in over a day. Kenny was her everything. Everything she loved, Eric thought.
"She misses you." Eric whispered, not waking the smaller girl. She was snuggled to his middle, some drool escaping her lips as she slept. She was used to these accommodations, she didn't need luxury to survive. Eric heard Kenny smile. He was used to the poorer boy and could guess his expressions.
"That's good..." Kenneth sighed, happiness in his tone. He loved the small girl. She was the thing he stood for. She was the need for a hero, for a vigilante. Kenny, of course, was Karen's guardian angel. He posed as a masked hero named Mysterion. She had no idea, and Kenny planned on keeping it that way.
"We're on our way. Has my check came in?" Eric whispered. He did this to fund a few things. The murder, he thought, it was for a good thing. He tried to convince this to himself.
"It's here... and... it's five million dollars." Kenneth whispers in amazement. Eric smiled. It would be enough to work with. Enough for now, he hoped, remembering the Jewish boy. Maybe even enough to fix them. No, he thought, never that much. Nothing could bring him back to life. Nothing could erase the murder. Nothing.
"Okay, I'll see you soon." Eric said, swiftly hanging up the flip phone and tossing it out the window. He didn't want the government on his case, not again. He shut his eyes, head lolling to the side. He couldn't let Kyle mourn. He had to show himself again, no matter the pain it put them both through. No matter what, he must let himself make up for the betrayal, the murder, the job. He must tell Kyle the truth.
Eric pried his sticky eyes open, colors flooding the black void as the spots faded. The bus driver was hovering over him.
"We're here." The older man murmured, an anger in his voice. Eric sighed, if he knew. He didn't know, Eric thought, standing up and carrying Karen off of the bus and watching it pull away. He trudged to Kenneth's house. He needed to tell him. He needed Kenny to understand. Eric arrived at the broken down home, ringing the doorbell. Kenny swiftly opened it. He was dressed in a beaten up parka with multiple bloodstains. Kenny, Eric thought smiling, Kenny hadn't changed. At least he had that. Kenny took Karen from Eric's arms and held her close.
"Thank god she's alright..." Kenny whispered, laying her on the old greenish couch. Eric embraced Kenneth, holding him tightly, tears in his eyes. He'd missed the poorer boy. He'd missed him almost as much as he'd been missing Kyle. Almost. Kenny squeezed back tightly.
"I missed you Cartman..." Kenny whispered, wiping his own tears. Cartman, Eric thought, they all still called him by his surname. Nothing had changed. One person died, Eric thought sadly, and no one besides Kyle was affected. No one besides Kyle must mourn. Kyle. Eric sighed sadly. It was his fault Kyle must be put through this incredible pain. His fault Kyle must cry. Those tears, Eric thought, he never wanted them to fall. The boy didn't need to see it happen. The boy didn't need to die for his mistake. He had killed him, and Kyle must suffer the mourning. It wasn't the younger boy's fault. It wasn't his fault, and it never will be. Eric sighed sadly and wiped his teary eyes.
"I'm running again Kenny." Eric cried. He was running again, and this time he couldn't get out of it. Couldn't run away from it. Had to face it. Needed to face it. Eric wiped his eyes and walked out the door into the cold night.
"I'll see you... I'm sorry I have to go." Eric whispered, running down the sidewalk to the one place he knew he could still shelter. His mother had passed two years ago and left the home to Eric. Eric walked in, collapsing onto the couch in sobs. He ruined it. Ruined everything Kyle and he had ever gotten close to having. He'd completely and totally ruined it. The house phone rang. Eric picked it up and answered it. Who would've known to call the Cartman residence for him?
"Y-You murderer!" An angry voice yelled. The voice set a pang rippling through his heart. It was him. It was him, and he was crying. Kyle, Eric thought, it was Kyle. It was Kyle and he was crying. Eric pieced the sentences together in his mind.
"I-I-" Eric began to hold up for himself, tears still coming. Kyle hated him. Hatred was a word seldom used between the boys but Eric knew it applied here. Kyle completely with every emotion in his being hated Eric Theodore Cartman. Eric could guess that Stanley was there with Kyle now.
"Shut up! Y-You killed Ike!" Kyle sobbed into the line. Ike Broflovski. That was the boys name. The accident. The one who saw. It was never intended for Ike to get shot that day. Never would Eric had thought Ike would see. Kyle's brother of all people. Kyle's brother had been shot on July Fourth.
"H-He... It wasn't intentional!" Eric cried into the line. The guilt ate at the boys. Everyone involved that night. Only one of them had killed the boy. Only one, Eric thought, only one Kyle truly believed killed Ike. Now Eric was hated. Eric was hated to his very core by the Broflovski's. Kyle, the one he cared about, hated him the most. He'd always hated Eric. Eric had been running since July Fourth, had done a complete circle around Colorado that year. He'd been missing for a year. Kyle had mourned Ike for a year. It hit him again. It was Eric's fault the sadness came back. It was his fault because he called his gang again and informed them he was coming back. All of the people involved. It had been spread to Kyle he was returning.
"Fuck you." The two words tore through Eric's heart as Kyle said them. Kyle'd hung up on Eric. Eric buried his head in his arms and cried.