((A/N I love Mysterion way too much... enjoy the fail epicness of it all as I attempt to write anything vaguely legible :D
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Matt & Trey))
Encounter One - 7:30PM-6:05AM
The dirty misted glass reflected his orange parka.
The rain pounded heavily over him, soaking him and slowly freezing his fingers.
No, that was wrong, right now he wasn't Kenny. He was something more, not the poor ignored child that would do anything for some spare change.
He wasn't vulnerable, he wasn't weak, he wasn't insecure.
Then why are you looking at me?
Perfect blue eyes stared at him emotionless, giving nothing away. That look, that flicker of despair in the reflections eyes made his stomach tear. He felt bile rise up his throat and he resisted the urge to heave.
His vision blurred again and he only saw red, red on top of dark purple and grey. His whole body numbed over, he couldn't feel anything.
Shock.
He held his shaking hand to his face, red staining it.
When...?
His vision unfocused and he squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't lose consciousness, then it would be game over. He squinted one eye open and stared anxiously at his reflection. He couldn't be weak right now, so why was he seeing...
A gasp and a sharp pain, and he was consumed by blinding pain. He only saw white.
No, he couldn't fall, not now.
He slid his left foot and leaned limply against the wall behind him to catch himself. Sharp, painful intakes of air, the December air freezing as it filled his lungs. The rain blared in his eardrums, making him frantic and disorientated. He could only smell iron and filth.
His vision was sharp, darting place to place in desperate attempt for some form of help in the alleyway, desperation taking over his pride. His eyes finally landed on a blur of green and orange.
He feebly reached out his hands towards the figure in front of him, faintly murmuring a plea for help before his vision completely blurred as he hit the concrete with a thud. The iconic purple-clad figure lay sprawled on the wet of asphalt of the narrow alleyway, blood pooling around him, diluted by the rain water.
The broken glass reflected a crying boy.
Of the many things Kyle Broflovski had expected to see when he entered the alleyway behind his apartment complex was most definitely not a dying Mysterion.
In the recent months the vigilante had appeared, putting a stop to the raging crime that had developed in South Park in recent years. The small town had grown corrupt and constant thefts and unexplained murders had become common events. The media had taken up the story by storm, putting full force on increasing dependence and popularity on the vigilante. The constant questions on his true identity had kept the story fresh to the audience and had built-up a fan-base for the purple-clad hero. Others of course resented the rising hero and had caused many scenes and riots in the town.
Kyle however, hadn't really given a flying crap about the hero, more focused on his freshman year of college than pop-culture. The redhead had never been one to follow recent fads and instead stayed level-headed and concentrated on his education. His best friend constantly made fun of him for his nature to be 'behind the times', which occasionally made him feel self-conscious and slightly insecure, but he generally shrugged it off and kept his strong individual personality.
He stopped himself short from dialing the final one from 911, reconsidering the trip to the hospital visit that would most definitely develop media attention.
More that anything, Kyle did not want to be involved in some crazy super-hero and super-villan fiasco orbe swamped by the media and interviews about his insane encounter with Mysterion. He had seen the interviews on TV of people had only witnessed him jump over an overhead building and he really didn't want to imagine what he'd be put through for having met him face to face.
Plus it didn't seem that Mysterion wanted to be caught by the media either, much less unmasked.
Flipping his phone shut and shoving it in his coat pocket Kyle took a deep breath before walking over to assist the bleeding man.
Unknowingly, he had taken his first step into the tragic world of Mysterions life. Into an abyss that would take everything he had to climb out of.
He heaved the limp man up the fire-escape of his apartment, avoiding contact with anyone, gingerly rested the man on his sofa, and proceeded to treat his injuries. He silently thanked his first-aid class he had taken before becoming a camp coach his senior year of high school, otherwise he would have been a bumbling fool in this situation.
He immediately went to treat the large cut on the man's side, stripping off his gray shirt with the iconic green 'M' and using it to apply pressure to the wound.
Luckily it hadn't been that deep but had only been bleeding a lot, once he finally managed to get his side to stop bleeding he moved on to the less serious problem areas. Treating the cuts on his arms, and other parts of his body, icing the huge bruise on his chest, and other small things.
He felt his stomach dropped when he grabbed the back of the cape defenders head to readjust him to a more comfortable position and felt something wet. He pulled hand back from under the hood and stared at his bloody hands.
There was no getting out of this one.
He had been desperately avoiding unmasking the lone hero, the less he knew about him the better, but now he knew that he had a head injury. It could be fatal if it wasn't treated. Kyle swallowed some access saliva and built up his courage. He felt like he was walking into some deep shit but his conscious didn't want a person dying in his care.
He silently cursed his moral standards as he proceeded to gently peel off the hood that had stuck to the sticky blood on the back of his head. He was mildly surprised to see that golden blond hair poke out in all directions whence he removed the hood. Blood stained the golden locks disturbingly and Kyle gulped.
So now he knew that Mysterion was a blond, 'Lets try and keep it at that'he thought as he searched for the source of the wound. He immediately wanted to hit something when he realized that it was under his mask on the left side of his head, just behind the ear.
Now he had to remove the mask as well. Damn it.
With shaky hands he untied the mask and slowly lifted it off his face. He blinked when he looked at the boy in front of him. He had expected a man in his late-twenties, not someone that didn't look a day over eighteen. He looked younger than Kyle even. Briefly Kyle imagined the young blond pulling off all those amazing feats that he'd heard about on the news, all the sincerely dangerous situations the kid had been in. He felt awe and mild concern for the man in front of him before he began to treat the wound.
In the back of his head he briefly wondered how he could convince Mysterion when he woke up that he'd never spill his secret and of how much he didn't want to be involved with him.
When he finished he smiled down at his work satisfied by his slightly more than mediocre job. At least the towns hero wasn't dying any longer, just kind of really injured. He looked at the skinny half-naked boy in slight wonder. Something about him compelled the redhead, he wanted to help him, wanted to know more...
He shook his head briefly, shrugging off the thought as exhaustion from his long day. He headed off into the kitchen to prepare some snack before he plopped on the floor in front of the couch and flicked on the TV. A part of him told him not to leave the blond alone.
Waking up from a hazy and restless sleep the blond lazily groaned as he tried to open his eyes. Who had left the damn TV on? His head pounded painfully and he winced. Cracking one eye open he stared up at an unfamiliar ceiling. The room was dark besides the glow of the flickering images on TV to his right.
What...?
Turning his head to his side he ignored the painful stab in his side as he got sight of the red tuft of hair by his face.
He knitted his brows together in confusion as he reached a bandaged head to his aching head.
Bandages...?
Kenny felt his unmasked face and the bandages on his forehead and his heart dropped. Memories of before he passed out flooded back to him, and he mentally kicked himself at the memory of his plea for help. His mind started racing at the possibilities of what had happened afterwards and none of them were good.
He nearly jumped into a sitting position before he curled back into himself at the blinding pain in his side. The sudden movement jerking Kyle awake, having fallen asleep by the blonds side watching the TV.
"Fuck..." said blond hissed painfully.
Hearing his patient was awake snapped Kyle out of his half asleep state into full consciousness. Rising to his feet in one swift movement he reached the injured vigilante and pushed him gently down by the shoulders.
"Shh... Don't move, your injuries will reopen." Kyle gently soothed as he tried to push the other boy down.
Kenny shot his head up from his fetal position, electric blue eyes glaring at the redhead with mistrust.
For a moment, Kyle could only stare at those eyes, almost completely lost in their depth. Boyish innocence, defiance, responsibility, exhaustion, fear, pride, grit, and... sorrow? It was stunning.
But that quickly wore off as he continued talking, "I put in way too much effort treating you for you open your wounds again." He ranted in mild annoyance. When the unmasked Mysterion still looked at him like he was about to kill a puppy he sighed running a hand through his hair. "Look, I'm not going to tell anyone about you, I don't want to get involved one bit. But my conscious couldn't just let me leave you in front of my apartment to die."
Kenny had honestly not expected to hear that, generally whenever a civilian had ever gotten close enough to talk to him they were all over him asking for his autograph. Either that, or trying to kill him, frame him, or do anything in their power to discredit him. Not offer him genuine kindness laced with irritation. He kind of like it.
"After you're better enough to not die you can go and continue you superhero business or whatever. I'll forget all about you and we can just move on and forget this little fiasco, okay?" Kyle continued motioning with his hands to illustrate his points.
The confusion took over his mistrust as he looked up at the redhead, really looking at him for the first time. He stared at Kyle's freckled face, hid fiery red hair, his straight nose, and his annoyed green eyes. He still didn't trust him, years of giving the benefit of the doubt and betrayal being beat into him.
He didn't trust anyone.
He reluctantly leaned back into the couch, the pain in his side bringing him to a cold sweat, but he didn't lose face. Number one rule of being Mysterion, never let weakness show, poker face. He ignored the fact that the man in front of him and already seen him at his weakest and most vulnerable.
Well at least my 'savior' is a cute redhead, I always did have a soft spot for redheads...
He cheekily smirked up at Kyle, a mischievous glint in his eyes, Kyle blinked taken aback not expecting such a devilish expression from the town's 'hero'.
"But you took the trouble to strip me, and now you're saying you don't wanna finish the job? What a tease." was Kenny's sultry response. Perversion was always his forte, and the guy looked fun to mess with. Anything was a nice distraction from the stabbing pain.
Kyle however, wasn't quite appreciating 'small talk'.
Did Mysterion seriously just hit on me...?
When Kyle only blinked back at him he let out a hearty laugh, "You're kinda cute when you get all flustered like that." He stared at him with mirth resting his hands behind his head, ignoring the painful sting when his arm brushed against the side of his head.
He is hitting on me!
Heat crept up his cheeks at the attention, and his mind raced for a appropriate response. Somewhere in between 'ew, no' and 'how hard didyou hit your head?'.
Instead he went for, "I never would've pegged Mysterion for a flirt." edged with annoyance as he not so gently threw a pillow in his general direction. He felt mildly satisfied at the strained 'oof!' he received in response.
"Dude, what was that for?" He asked raising an eyebrow, holding the pillow against his bare chest with a huff.
"For suddenly acted like you own the place." Kyle said dignified, "You may be injured and a guest, but I'm not going to grovel at your feet because you can kick some ass. Now go back to sleep so you'll heal faster and I can kick you out." Kyle gave him a skeptic look, his agitation at the situation becoming more than evident.
(And maybe more than anything, venting his frustration over the Mysterion-fad)
Kenny was really starting to like the guy, his attitude was unexpected but at the same time amusing, like a welcomed change of pace. Unknowingly he let his guard slip around him and couldn't help but relax. It'd been the first time in the past few months that he hadn't been faced with drama and tight situations.
Though being in some unknown guys apartment unmasked, injured, and dropping his guard would most definitely be labeled a tight situation in his book.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Would my caretaker at least be as generous enough to grace me with his name?" His eyes glinted with mirth as he humoured him.
Kyle hesitated for a second, contemplating the pros and cons of revealing his identity, before finally sighed in defeat, "...Kyle." It was late and he was beginning to care less and less about staying uninvolved and more about getting sleep.
A sly smirk popped on Kenny's face "Kyle, eh..." he wiggled his eyebrows in good humour. Unfortunately, Kyle was not appreciating the flirtations.
With an aggravated sigh, Kyle ran his hands through his red curls again, "Look, it's two in the fucking morning and I have class in four hours, could you please stop being a smart-ass and go to sleep?"
He almost screamed and smothering the wounded vigilante when Kenny gave a perverted smirk and a "My ass israther smart... hadn't known you'd been ogling it." Instead he settled for a dirty look and headed off to his bedroom.
Kenny could only laugh under his breath as his savior slammed the bedroom door shut. The guy had been too much fun to tease.
Never lose face.
The smile became strained as he resisted the coughs that pleaded to come out. Eventually, once he couldn't handle the urge any longer he coughed violently shaking his frame, reflex causing him to bring his hands to cover his mouth.
He could only let out a morbid smile at the blood that was now lacing his fingers.
The searing beeping of Kyle's alarm echoed throughout the small apartment. Lazily and sleep deprived the Jew slowly stretched and reached around his bed blindly for the nearest jacket.
Why was it so fucking cold?
Sluggishly the freshman got out of bed finding his way to the bathroom. Hugging his jacket close to his form he stumbled down the hall not even bothering to open his eyes. It was his apartment and he already knew where everything was.
He stopped short as a gust of cold wind hit him, snapping him into consciousness like a splash of cold water. He opened his eyes wide to the living room entrance to his left with confusion.
He could only describe it as stunning.
His white curtains blew majestically in the wind, whipping left to right and finally revealing the blond behind them.
The blonds eyes danced with death and mirth as he caught Kyle's green ones, his half-naked frame standing tall half-outside the window frame glowing in the early morning sun.
Kyle couldn't move, couldn't speak, entranced by the boy in front of him.
Angelic.
Blood trickled down his side from underneath the bandages, dripping on the redheads beige carpet.
"Thanks for everything Kyle, you were a real cutie." His words crystal clear across the room, "See ya later."
Kyle could only gape wide-eyed as he leaned out the window, falling headfirst out of the third story.
He raced to the window as fast he could leaning out the window to where his guest had fallen, hoping in the back of his head that all those superhero cliches were right and he wasn't falling to his death just using his amazing superhero reflexes to freak Kyle out.
He managed to catch him blowing a cheeky kiss back up at the redhead, giving him a lazy grin before his body hit the pavement.
Crunch.
Blood splattered across the black asphalt, the heroes limp form sprawled disturbingly on the cold ground. There was a bright smile on his face, dead eyes still looking mirthfully up at Kyle's.
"...you bastard."
((Ending Notes: Dude, not cool Kenny, someone has to clean that up! First chapter up! Probably a lot more to go... ^^;;; Like, hate, want to hit your head repeatedly against a wall from the sheer stupidity and horrible writing? Review please! Or I'll get sad and mope in a corner because I think no one likes my writing and give up because of my low self-esteem. FEED MY DWINDLING EGO.
Sickie Burbs out!))
