Just a quick Authors note here~ This is my first real fanfiction! So I'm really sorry if the writing is bad... Im a little rusty. Fff Havn't written anything in a while... Excuse me for any typos or like mess ups. So anyhoo this is a fanfic I've dubbed Money (I might change the title later on) and it started out as just an idea that Butters, my favorite character, actually needed to do favors for people to earn some money to repay a thug, but as I started writing it sort of verged off that path into something else entirely. I still only have a vague idea where this is going... But hopefully somewhere. And yes this is a Bunny fic BUT it won't be just your averge fluff cuz I plan on making this a horror story, so expect more of a twisted kind of relationship. Also, the story goes back and forth in Third person but switches from Kenny and Butters, and it's really easy to tell who's POV it is. Mmmkay that's about it... Enjoy! (Hopefully...)
Butters needed money. No… Needed was an understatement. People needed food. People needed water. To live of course. But money? That was different. Butters was never a materialistic boy, and naturally the thought of "needing money" had never crossed his mind before. The first time somebody gave him money for work was after Butter's finished watering Mrs. Marsh's flower garden. Butter's always loved flowers, the way their petals swayed in the crisp mountain air and the way they seemed to smile up at him. It wasn't even working really. And so when the lady had slipped a wrinkled up ten dollar bill into Butter's open palmed hand, he had blushed profusely and twiddled his thumbs, mumbling something about how it "wasn't necessary" and "naw m'am it was my pleasure." He didn't need the money. What would Butter's use it for anyway? His parents bought him everything he needed, which wasn't much. A new pair of Nike sneakers here, a chocolate candy bar there, and of course, if Butter's was extra good, the newest edition of Hello Kitty Adventure Island.
But no, no, no, she had insisted on it and pushed the money on the muttering boy. "Golly Mrs. Marsh… This wah… T-that sure is kind of you," Butter's had fumbled bumping his knuckles together trying to put on a happy smile. He'd just end up giving the money to somebody who actually needed it. Maybe those nice fellows down at the NASCAR track…
"Spend it on somethin' nice," she had said with a wink.
Nice. That was an understatement, too Butter's thought. What was nice? Nice was hot coco and not being grounded and curling up on cold winter's night watching cartoons. Nice certainly wasn't being pushed up against a brick wall, the grain exterior digging into the fabric of Butter's soft blue jacket.
"I-I told you already!" he blubbered, his gaunt cheeks streaked with tears. "I-I don't got any- wahh… money!"
"Shut yo' fucking mouth, bitch!" the thug growled harshly and lifted the frail boy up with one hand clutching Butter's collar. The other was raised above his head in an obviously threatening manor. "Just gimme my money and I won't bash yo' fucking head in!"
Butter's let out a choked sob and desperately clawed at the large mans fingers, trying to pry them off his jacket. "Oh Jesus! Oh God… Sweet love of Christ… My Father's going to… gonna ground me so hard… Ain't got no money, Oh Jesus…" He rambled, his clear blue eyes flooded with another wave of tears as he scrambled to free himself.
"I said shut up, bitch!" the man shouted and this time he yanked Butter's forward, just to slam the boy back into the brick wall with such force it made his body convulse and his eye's to roll back into his head.
"I-I told you mister! I don't have any money!" Butter's cried and hiccupped and cried some more, snot dripping down his nose. Just think if them boys from school could see him now… Snotty nose and bawling like a baby. Money. Butter's hated the stuff. It made other people act strange. It made good kids turn into trashy dangerous hooligans. "I wonder if this guy waahh- was ever a g-good kid…" Butter's thought madly to himself.
Fwap! Butter's was knocked out of his thoughts as the thugs fist made contact with his cheek. He let out another choked sob as his head lulled like a rag doll. Blood had begun to dribble from a cut below his eye and Butter's vaguely wondered how much more he could take. "I-if only I hadn't listened to that… asshole Eric… Good going Butters! Way to let yourself get walked all over AGAIN! You deserve this, you know. Let it be a wahh- reminder t-to you mister…" he mentally scolded himself as the tears flowed more freely.
"Come ON you little shit! I need my drug money! Come on man! Just cough it up and you can go, bitch! Come on!" the man kept repeating in an almost rhythmic tone as he shook the lifeless teen around. "Come on, man!"
"I-I… told you, sir… I ain't GOT no money to give y-you…!" Butter's managed to stammer through swollen lips. Oh why why why had he listened to Eric! He could be at home right now… Playing computer games or studying for his Geometry final on Monday or mindlessly snacking on whatever chips his Dad had bought that week…. But no he, gullible Butter's, just HAD to go and get himself into this… this… mess. Butter's could find no better word to describe this unfortunate predicament. Stupid Butter's and his stupid gullibleness and his stupid urge to please people and his stupid, stupid, stupid lack of money.
The thug began to sweat, the bead's trailing down from his greasy hair trailing down his equally greasy face to build up on his lips. Butters, in his half unconscious trauma, wondered if they tasted salty. He wanted to find out.
So he lunged his head out and touched his tongue to the thugs lips. Except he missed. And landed the tip of his small pink tongue on the man's nose. "Oops!" Butter's giggled as he pulled back, feeling his mind swim in and out of unconsciousness. The edges of his vision wavered as the black closed in on him.
"The fuck man!" the thug shouted and yanked his head as far away from the teen as possible. "Did you just fucking lick me!" He stared at the boy with a disgusted expression, and then deciding on a whim that A. this boy was obviously fucked up and B. he had no money. So with an exasperated sigh, the heavyset man swore and flung Butter's thin body aside. The blonde teen flew through the air and landed on the stanky alleyway concrete floor… right after his little blonde head had hit a dirty trash can. It to fell over causing a loud bang to echo around them.
"Who is that! Get the fuck outta here!" a voice shouted as a dark figure appeared in the doorway of one of the cramped apartment buildings. The figure clutched a baseball bat.
"Aww shit..." the thug whispered and drew his black coat tightly to his body, then high tailed it as fast as possible.
Butter's lay face down in a ditch covered in drainage slime and the cut on his head bleeding profusely. His body twitched once, twice, then lay still.
"Wuhh- I don't know Eric… It all sound's pretty dangerous to me…"
"Don't be such a pussy Butters. It's not dangerous," Cartman scoffed and leaned against his kitchen counter.
"Well… if it's not dangerous… why don't YOU do it?" He bumped his knuckles together adding to the raw red spot that seemed to constantly remain there. Stupid nervous habit…
Cartman rolled his eyes and sigh in an over exaggerated way as if it was soooo obvious why he, himself, couldn't go get his game. "Because Butters, I already told you! I'm grounded for staying over at Kinneh's for too long, but that poor faggot still has my copy of Guitar Hero at his pathetic poor ass excuse for a house!" Cartman gruffed, his language drenched with offense. "And cuz I'm grounded oooobviously," here he paused to jam a hand into his Cheesy Poofs bag laying on the counter to fish out a handful of the fakey cheesey snacks, "you have to go and get it for me." And here he shoved a fat finger, covered in cheese dust, into Butter's jacket.
It left an orange smudge on the otherwise spotlessly clean blue fabric.
"Oh… Well… um…" Butter's mumbled to himself as he looked down to stare at the spot, trying not to think about how his mother would ground him for dirtier up the jacket with cheese filth. "Um… I-I don't wuhh…" He drew out his words still trying to figure out a way out of this. Everybody knew Kenny lived on the "bad" side of town. Across the railroad tracks and out back where all the… bad people lived. Well, that's what his mother had always said and Butter's mother never lied. Well… that's what she had said at least…
"Well what? Are you gonna go get it or not, fag?"
"Um… Well Eric I'd actually prefer the… not option." Butter's said looking down at his feet. Silence. "I-I mean if that's ok with you of course!" he added on with a tone of panic. Butter's had to watch his words. It was like… walking on eggshells. If the eggshells was a two ton hostile teen boy with uncontrollable anger issues and a fist the size of a softball… That was an exaggeration of course.
Nobody wanted to make Eric Cartman angry. Not unless you actually liked eating your own parents that is… Butter's shuddered.
Silence. Then… "Not? What do you mean… not?"
Butter's squirmed uncomfortably, purposely avoiding his friend's aggressive stare. "W-well I just mean... wuh.. Eric that's the um.. bad side of town and um… I just don't wanna ya know…" Butter's bit his lip and raised his small blonde head in defeat. "Die," he finished lamely.
Cartman was silent once again, a look of contemplation crossed his face as he shoved more cheesy poofs into his mouth. Butter's wished he'd offer some to him, but he knew that wasn't going to happen. "Yeah… Eric being generous… When Heck freezes over…" Butter's thought to himself. The image of a snowy cold Hell suddenly flashed through the boy's mind. Little Satan in a little winter coat with matching mittens and poofball hat. Butter's giggled.
"Shut up fag," Cartman said and Butter's shut up.
"Obedient… Like a dog…" the little voice in his head piped up but Butter's shushed it. "Okay Eric…" He shuffled his feet awkwardly.
After a moment, Cartman looked Butter's in the eye and said clearly, "You won't die, ok? It'll be just fine. Just get to Kenny's apartment, get that fucker to give you my game, and head back over to my place. It won't take more then… an hour or so. You'll be fiiiiine," Cartman drawled out and patted his faithful servant on the back.
Butter's bit his lip… "You... you sure I'll be fine? Pinky promise…?" He weakly lifted one hand up and flicked his pinky childishly towards the brunette teen.
Cartman stared at his pinky, then a grin broke out on the teen's chubby features as he leaned back farther on the counter grasping Butter's little pinky in his own thick one. He humored the boy and squeezed his pinky practically crushing it. "Yeah, dude. You'll be just fine. Now just hurry up and go get my game! Being grounded is boring as fuck."
"Oh you don't know the half of it, my friend…" Butter's thought to himself and winced.
"B-butters? Bu-? Buuutter-? But-ters?" a voice was saying. It sound choppy and muffled, like who's ever voice it belong had cotton covering their mouth. "Butters- C-come on, man! W-wake up-" No… It was more like the voice was under water. Or in molasses. Butter's wished the voice would shut up and let him sleep…
"Mmmm... No I just wanna wah- sleep…" the teen managed to whispered quietly as he curled deeper into his sheets. His blanket's felt… different. Not as soft as they usually were. "Wah- It's… should be about time mother w-washed these…" Butter's decided just then.
"Come on, dude! Wake up! Wake u-" The voice, still sounding slow and molasses-y, was getting more persistent now and Butter's felt something shake his body.
"I… I said no!" he squeaked and clutched the sheets immaturely.
"Fuck you, man!" the voice shouted harshly, accompanied by a rough slap to the shoulder. The profanity, and slap, brought him out of his trance with a jolt and Butter's sat up with eyes like saucers.
"Ahhhh!" he screamed, then "What the-!" He clutched the stained sheet's to his small bare chest and looked around wildly suddenly realizing that this was not in fact his room. Or his blanket. Butter's threw the dirty thing across the room and started to cry.
"Save your fucking life and this is what I get in return… fucking Butter's… Ain't gotta be a pussy about it-" Here Butter's rescuer trailed off as they warily eyed the teen's tears. "Oh Jesus Christ… You're crying?"
Butter's eyes were clamped shut, hoping that if he cried some more he'd open them and be back at home in his own bed. "Wahhh!"
The rescuer dragged his, because yes he was indeed a he, long thing finger through his blonde hair and sighed feeling a slight pinch of guilt for cursing. "Look dude… I'm sorry… Just stop crying."
Butter's, eye's still clamped shut, stopped suddenly recognizing the all too familiar voice. "Wait just a gosh darn second… that sounds an awful lot like…" Butter's eyes flew open and clear blue met pasty grey. "Kenny?"
Kenny shrugged and played with the strings of his parka. "Ya? So?"
"No... I mean… Yes! Yes You're just the guy I was wah- looking for!" Butter's exclaimed with a huge smile. "You see… Eric… and Guitar Hero and um… I was coming down here to… but then…" Butter's trailed off and suddenly… It all came rushing down on him. The thug. Getting attacked. The blood… the pain… "I… I…" Butter's became pale, his light blue eye's glazed over.
Kenny pulled back with a weird look on his face. "Butter's? What's wrong- Woah!" He shouted and practically flew off the bed as the teen fell forward with an oomph, laying unconscious on the stained bed spread where Kenny had sat just moments ago.
The boy, with messy blonde hair sticking every which way, tugged on his parka strings, a look of concentration masking his face. He lightly tapped his chewed on Number 2 pencil on the sheet of notebook paper in front of him, his eye's grazing over the open textbook to his left. His mother silently stirred the pot of boiling macaroni noodles, one of the only foods they could afford. There was an air of awkwardness that lay in the room like a thick fog.
"You studying for that big final you gots on Monday, Kinneh?" his mom, he flaming red hair tied back in a messy ponytail, drawled in that accent of hers from her spot in the kitchen. Well, it wasn't really a kitchen. It was more like… well it wasn't a separate room like Kenny's friend's kitchens. It was just a section of the dining room with a refrigerator and a stove shoved in the corner, accompanied by a couple of countertops crudely jammed together. For what seemed like the millionth time, Kenny cursed God for his living conditions.
"Yeah yeah, Ma," he replied. Tap tap tap went the pencil. "Im studying." "Studying my ass…" he silently thought to himself. As his mom turned back to the macaroni to read the directions on the small cardboard box, Kenny flipped to the Playboy that was carefully hidden under the Math book.
It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. It wasn't fair Kenny lived in the poor ass house he did. It wasn't fair he had to have boxed macaroni every night with the occasional stale pop tart. It wasn't fair they had barely enough money to get by… Sometimes Kenny wished that when he died… he'd just stay dead. One less mouth to feed for his dear old Ma. She always did deserve better… She was a good Ma, even though his stained sheets and dirty scratched up face said otherwise. She loved Kenny and that's all that really mattered. All she asked of him in return for her love was to study hard and do well in school so that he'd get a good education and maybe some day "get outta this damn ghetto and make something of himself" as she put it. Kenny almost felt guilty for sneaking looks at the Playboy instead of doing mindless Geometry problems.
Almost.
"Dinner in five minutes, Kinneh. Do your Mama a favor and take outta the trash, will ya?" she asked and dumped powdered cheese into the soupy noodle mixture.
Kenny just nodded, and careful for her not to see the magazine, tucked the rolled up thing into his back jean pocket and headed towards the back door.
Whistling to himself, Kenny strolled out into the back alley behind his house, one hand grasped around the black plastic garbage bag. That's when he saw them. Well, kinda. It was hard to see and Kenny's vision was blurred by the growing darkness, but he could almost make out two struggling shapes in the distance. Keeping his head down, Kenny silently tossed the garbage bag to the side hoping not to intrude. Hell, that may seem like a cowardly act, but Kenny was no superhero. This was the ghetto. Hit and runs… Rape… Mugging… Shit like that went down on a daily basis out beyond the railroad where he lived. It was just another poor bastard falling victim to an even poorer bastard. "Probably being hassled for drug money…" Kenny thought to himself as he turned back inside to the sickeningly all too familiar smell of cooking mac'n'cheese…
"I-I… told you, sir… I ain't GOT no money to give y-you…"
Kenny froze. No… it couldn't be… That as impossible. Not out here in the 'bad' part of town… Why in the hell would… No. He must've been hearing things… He scrunched up his nose and continued to go inside, hands jammed in his parka.
"Oops!" The same voice giggled.
Kenny froze yet again, his hands clenching the fabric till his knuckles turned white. He'd know that giggle anywhere…No. No. No… What the fuck man. Why would Butters Leopold Stotch be here! Of all places…! That little fag couldn't throw a punch if his life depended on it. Very slowly… Kenny reached a single arm out to grab the baseball bat that was propped up against the bricks.
He heard the larger guy shout out something full of profanities and pull his arms back, bringing the small figure of what Kenny assured himself was Butter's with him. Kenny clutched the bat's handle with his thin fingers and prepared himself to kick some druggie ass.
Almost in slow motion, Kenny watched the man fling the lifeless teen across the alleyway. Butter's dark figure went sailing through the air and Kenny felt his heart skip a beat as he watched the boy's head smack against a garbage can and his limp body fall into a drainage ditch. He gritted his teeth furiously and lunged himself outside. "Who is that! Get the fuck outta here!" he shouted with all his might wildly waving the bat above his head, a manic glint in his eyes.
"Awww shit…" he heard the voice mutter as the figure sprinted off.
Kenny grunted as he heaved himself forward, the weight of the metal bat heavy in his hands. This was gonna feel real nice. "Get the fuck back here, coward!" Kenny shouted into the dark as he ran after the man. "Years of running home from school really does pay off I guess…" Kenny casually thought as he chased after the druggie with a metal bat clutched in his sweaty palms.
He was running so close to the man now Kenny could smell the rotten garbage slept in a cardboard box last night smell that was usually in this kinda neighborhood that reeked on the mugger's body. He could see the man's thick legs pumping through the crisp air and his greasy hair flying in the wind behind him. Kenny let out a wild hoot of laughter and swung the bat. "Woohoo!" It made instant content with the back of the mugger's head with a sickening crack and he collapsed in a crumpled heap. Kenny stopped and leaned his palms on his knees breathing deeply. Then, he laughed. He just laughed and did sort of a half fist pump. That was the most fun he had had in weeks! "Yeah man! I got you! I got you, bitch!" he shouted with glee and tapped the man's back with the end of the bat.
The man stirred and groaned a little.
Kenny's expression darkened and he swung again, this time bashing the man's head in. He didn't move after that.
The boy gazed at the blood flecks on his parka absent mindedly, and then kicked the guy over to root through his black trench coat. "Aww… Sick man…" he said disgusted as he pulled out various wallets. Kenny had little remorse for thieves. So what if you needed money to live… It was better to go hungry then to go low enough to steal from somebody. Well that was Kenny's opinion at least. That scum deserved to die. He searched for a bit, hoping to find the wallet the fucker must've snatched from Butters.
Butters.
Gahh that's right… In Kenny's mad heated chase he had completely forgotten about the poor kid. He was probably bleeding and in shock back in that gutter… A look of horror plastered on his small face. His little nose scrunched up in worry and his pretty blue eyes glazed over… Kenny shook his head to clear his mind. "Get a holda yourself, Mcormick…" he thought. "He's probably still unconscious loosing more blood by the minute…"
He glanced back down at the man, well what was once a man. It was now an empty shell. A corpse. Kenny wore the same dark grim look and leaned against the bat twisting his aching wrists. It felt kinda… good actually. Killing someone that is. Once you've seen, well experienced first handedly but that wasn't important, as much death as Kenny had, it looses it's shock appeal. And honestly it felt really good to be on the other side of fate. The predator, not the victim that is. As disturbing as that sounded, it was the honest truth.
He could remember his first time dying in perfect detail. He was only at the mere age of two when that Lego piece had managed to find its way lodged into his windpipe. Kenny would never forget that moment in his inferior toddler mind when the darkness tainted the edges of his vision and he felt the life slip right outta him. You know when you have a dream, like, where you're falling? Or even worse… choking? And you know that terrible, horrible gut feeling you get where you know most definitely this is the end? And the darkness comes and there's that, like sudden rushed panicked feeling in you're heart..? Well multiply that by about… six. Cuz in a dream right before you hit the ground you're falling towards or get caught by the monster, you wake up. In real life… it's different. There is no wake up. It was, to say the least, the most frightening experience of Kenny's life. Which actually wasn't saying much as he hadn't experienced that much in his two years of living… But that wasn't the point. The point was that dying was just a nothing aspect of daily life. It had been that way as long as Kenny could remember. Live. Die. Wake up in bed with death still fresh in the mind while nobody else realizes you had just been decapitated or stabbed or shot or run over while you on the other hand remember in perfect crystal clear clarity every detail of your horrific death in your mind. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.
"Stop rambling, dumbass. Butter's is probably bloodless and broken back there while you ramble on about the aspects of life and death and all that faggy shit." Kenny's conscience jerked him back to reality. With one last look at the dead man at his feet, Kenny slung the bat over one shoulder and walked back towards the way he came, whistling all the way.
The second time waking up was easier. Cuz this time Butters wasn't as shocked as the first time when he had woken up shirtless and bruised on Kenny Mcormick's bed, a dull ache pounding in his head and a dirty blanket wrapped around his bare shoulders.
"Wuh… What the… where the heck…" Butters murmured as his vision swam and his ears rung. After a moment or two, the small boy looked around hesitantly and chewed his lip. "Oh... right." The realization didn't hit as hard that time. Eric… Guitar Hero… Getting mugged… Kenny… Kenny? Butters head spun around wildly as he searched for the boy in question.
"Wuh- Kenny? Um… Kenny are you in here…?" He whispered quietly reaching up to rub his knuckles. "This better not be um… a t-trick or somethin' ya know…" He was still a bit jumpy from being mugged an all… Oh gosh what would his mother say…
He sat on the empty bed a little longer hoping, no praying to the dear Lord that Kenny wasn't hiding in the closest getting ready to scare him… Or that the mugger wouldn't climb through that window over there and grab him again… "Seriously Kenny! This isn't funny!" Butters felt tears prick in his eyes. "Stop that c-crying you… crybaby! You should.. wuh- be ashamed of yourself! Crying like that in a friend's house…" Butters had that awful habit of scolding himself. But… then again the voice was right. He had to be a big man right now and suck it up.
Anyway… was Kenny his friend really? Butters didn't know. "I mean… He would have a r-reason to wah… resent me… After all his friends did replace him with m-me that one time…" he concluded to it wasn't like… they were close or anything. Sure yeah Butters had been on his share of adventures with Kenny as well as Stan, Kyle… and Eric. Butters gave a moment to give a quick scowl, his eyebrows furrowing together and his nose wrinkling up. That… that asshole. This was all his fault Butters was even here!
Adventures… More like one stupid mistake after another on gullible Butters part as he fell victim to the boy's ridiculous plans. Oh Butters! Be a squirrel and go take pictures with Miss Spears! Oh Butters! Sorry about that ninja star to the eye… We'll take you to the vet! Oh Butters! We need to dress you up like a girl to get a silly old fortuneteller! Ok… Ok he had to admit that last one wasn't so bad… Actually, not that Butters would admit this to anyone, he had quite enjoyed being Marjorine. It made him feel exhilarated and enthusiastic… Especially dancing. And the dress. And the makeup… But Butters would ever admit that. Never ever.
"Y-you come out right now, mister!" Butters said boldly as he drew his little hands into shaking fists. "Wahh- Don't make me go over there! I'll um… give you a right scolding young man!" Butters hardly knew how to be intimidating, so he tried with all his fifteen year old heart to sound as commanding as his father. Why would Kenny do that to him? Hide in that closest over there just to scare him! Hadn't he saved Butters from the man? What if the man had gotten Kenny! Oh Jesus… That would be terrible... Butters would feel so terribly guilty if anything had happened to Kenny cuz of Butters stupid mistake. Especially after the teen had saved his life and all…. Butter's thoughts trailed off as he spied a slightly dusty Guitar Hero box sitting on Kenny's dresser.
"Oh!" he exclaimed and hopped off the bed, his sock feet lightly padding on the carpeted floor. "Hey!" Butter's approached the box and smiled. At least there was that small comfort in knowing that the whole trip wasn't completely worthless. He had found what he had came for, and now he was sure Eric wouldn't yell at him or call him a fag or something mean like that… He picked up the thin box, made sure the little disk was inside, and then slipped it into his back jean pocket.
Feeling a bit more confidant and most definitely less like a crybaby, Butters looked around at Kenny's room really taking in his surroundings for the first time. He couldn't remember the last time he had been in this room… There was a stained bed, well more like a mattress strewn across a bare metal holder with some dirty sheets. The walls were a pale color that Butters decided must've been white at one point, but were know a kind of sickly whitish yellow. There was the dresser he had found the game on that held only a bare light bulb lap lacking its lampshade and an assortment of posters covering the walls. There was lots of NASCAR ones… And some comic book ones… And much to Butters embarrassment, a half naked bikini clad lady.
He let his eyes wonder through the rest of the room, taking notice of the menacing looking dark closet… And the dresser… And orange curtains the same shade as Kenny's infamous parka. Butters ran his small hand along it allowing the fabric to slip through his fingers then looking up to gaze out the window. It was already pretty dark outside and the moon shone down on the grimy garbage cans and brick apartment buildings. Butters could even see the railroad tracks from his spot. He bit his lip yet again as he peered into the darkness. "I am so grounded…" he whispered to himself as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. It was way past dinner and well into the evening. Strictly off limit time for Butters. His parents were going murder him…
The blonde teen glanced around quickly, and then kneeled down on the floor. He propped his folded hands up on the windowsill and rested his forehead on his wrists. His eyes clamped down determined. "Oh… Oh hey Lord are you there? Um… It's me. Leopold." He always used his real name when talking to God. His mother always taught him to be polite to God cuz God was always watching and he liked polite little boys. Little boys who didn't cuss or hurt people or thought about other little boys in certain ways… Butters winced.
"So anyway…God. I'm in a l-little um… situation," Butter's continued quickly muttering into his freezing forearms. Gosh it sure was cold in Kenny's room… "You see… You know Eric right?" Butters knew that was a stupid question. Of course God knew about Eric Cartman. "Well y-ya see… He did that thing he always does… Where he wah- gets me to do um… stupid stuff." God knew about that thing. "And there was one of those bad men that my mother warns me about…. And he wah- attacked me?" Was that the right word? Attacked? Butters decided that was the perfect word for it. "It…golly it hurt God…" One hand crept up to touch the cut on his cheekbone and winced. It trailed down the touch the bruises on his scrawny chest then returned back to its place. Laced together with his other hand and underneath his forehead. "Anyway… Kenny. You know Kenny right? Well h-he… he wah- he rescued me! That brave fella… B-but… Now he left me alone and well… I'm sorta all alone and y-ya see God…" Butter's trailed off and felt a hard lump form in his throat. "Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry," The little voice in his head commanded. "And y-ya see… I…" The tears stung his eyes and he blinked them away stubbornly. "God, I just don't wanna be grounded again… Not again… I'm so sick of it, God," he finished his prayer quietly.
"He doesn't listen you know."
"Wahhhhhhhhhh!" Butters screamed a shrill loud scream and flung his body around so fast his neck cracked. "Ouch…" he mumbled and rubbed his neck.
Kenny's eyes widened, then he laughed loudly.
The blonde glared at the other teen. "Jesus Kenny! Don't wah- sneak up on me like that! You almost gave me a h-heart attack!" Butters yelled at him.
He just shrugged and walked into the room, hands jammed into his parka. "He doesn't listen." Kenny repeated with a sad smile.
"Who? God?"
A nod.
"No way! God listens to me if I'm a good boy… That's what my mother says and wah- she doesn't lie cuz my mother wouldn't lie t-to me… 'Now Leopold' she says 'Leopold as long as you are a good boy and are always polite and don't think bad thoughts' she says 'God will always listen to you-"
"Shut up, Butters," Kenny said abruptly cutting off his rabbles. "And what do you mean 'bad thoughts'. Like… killing and stuff?" Butters watched as he finished dragging his fingers through his hair. Then they wondered down to tug on the parka strings. He seemed to do that a lot.
"Wah- No… Like… Bad things ya know? Bad thoughts. Naughty thoughts about… well you know…" Butters shuffled his feet and looked down suddenly feeling uncomfortable. He hated this subject. He hated talking about it with his parents. He hated thinking about it every time somebody called him a…fag. And he especially hated it whenever the voice reminded him of things he tried to forget. Like the way that dress had felt, or how he had looked with lipstick on.
Kenny was silent. "Oh… Well I mean you're gay right?" he said nonchalantly. Butters secretly admired the way he said it so… blatantly casual. Like it was no big deal or anything. But Butters would never admit that.
"What? No!" he shouted and bumped his knuckles together, clearly offended. "No!" he insisted.
Kenny just shrugged, and already bored with the conversation, his eyes wondered around the room. They stopped on the dressed and Kenny stiffened. "Where's the…" His eye's traveled from the empty dresser to a nervous looking Butters then back to the dresser. "Guitar Hero," he said with a frown.
It was Butters turn to shrug. "Um… ya so?" He bit his lip. "Yeah I took it! So? It's not even yours anyway…" Butter's was hushed by Kenny, who raised one hand up.
"So… Lemme get this right. You came here to get this… Guitar Hero game?" Butters nodded and a look came over Kenny's face. A dark look that made chills go up the shorter boys spine. Butters didn't like that look… It made Kenny's clear blue grey eyes look too sharp.
"Well… wah- um… Yeah"
"Cartman's Guitar Hero game."
Butters could only nod again… Not quite knowing where this was going.
"You came here to this neighborhood to get Cartman's stupid game?... Why!" Kenny practically shouted the last part, a look of disbelief and anger twisted his face.
Butters just stared at him blankly. Another shrug. "Um… cuz h-he told me to?" Was there even a need of an explanation? This was Cartman they were talking about. And he was Butters. That itself was enough of an explanation.
"That… that fucking asshole!" Kenny shouted in disbelief and gritted his teeth. "I'm gonna fucking bash his fat fucking head into the fucking curb… I can't believe he'd make you come all the way down here… for a fucking Guitar Hero game…" Now Kenny was muttering to himself, throwing in the occasional curse word and kicking clouds of dust up from his carpet.
"Um… Wah- Kenny! Don't get all upset about it… I didn't mind honest!" Ok. That was a lie. In reality Butters had 100% objected to the idea of going down to this neighborhood to get the game, but he knew that wasn't something comforting Kenny wanted to here.
"Shut up, Butters!" Kenny gritted his teeth and- punched his wall? Butters let out a startled cry as Kenny had pulled his arm back and plunged his fist elbow deep into the wall. Kenny bit his lip to stop from crying out as he tumbled to the floor.
"Wah- excuse my l-language… But um… What the fuck!" Butters said still in shock as he ran over to Kenny. "What the heck was that!"
Kenny was choking in pain, his right arm bleeding a bit. He was trying to make something out… But it was hard to hear when he kept stopping and starting and trailing off to pant. "Don… Don't s-say…heck… that's so…so…"
"So what…?"
"So faggy!"
"Oh…"
Butters hung his head down for a moment, then leaned down to help the parka clad boy up. "Wow… W-why did you do that?" Butters inquired curiously as he looked at the large gaping hole in the wall.
"I…" Kenny looked over at it too as if for the first time and his eyes widened. "What? Did he not even realize h-he totally wah- punched that w-wall!" Butters thought in amazement. Kenny did that thing he always did again… Where he'd trail off like that, a kinda far away look in his eyes like there was something he could see that Butters couldn't. And his brows would furrow together and he'd look… angry? Yeah angry was a good word Butters decided… But always deep in thought. Contemplating.
"I don't know. Just get angry sometimes…" he finally mumbled and looked almost bashful as he stared at the hole in the plaster. "Damn. That's gonna cost some money."
"I don't like money."
Butters covered his mouth quickly and flushed hoping to the dear Lord that Kenny hadn't heard him. He hadn't even meant to say it. Honestly, it had just kinda slipped out. "Gah! Butters you dumb idiot!" Butters yelled at himself. "Don't. Mention. Money. At. Kennys house!" "Well… he did say it first…" His conscience threw in. The blonde teen stared at him funny as Butters clutched him mouth.
"What."
"U-um…" Butters stuttered. "Stupid. Stupid. Stupid." "I wah- didn't say anything!" "God said not to lie Leopold!" Butters winced and told the little voice to kindly shut up as Kenny just cocked his head and stared.
"You hate… money?"
"Well... um yeah. Cuz y-ya know… It's such a bothersome thing. A-and it makes people act funny. Not how they normally act…" Now Butters had started rambling. "And my mother always said 'Leopold, dear, if you are a good boy and do everything I ask of you then we your parents will provide for you' she said and she would also s-say and stuff like 'and Leopold remember that if you ever get any money, it'd be best to give it to the less fortunate' she said 'cuz the lest fortunate need it more then you' and I listened to her! Cuz honestly I ain't g-got any waah- use for money… It only causes fighting and makes stinky men like that guy who attacked more…" Butters trailed off… wondering why Kenny hadn't cut his ramble off. He looked at the other boy's expression, which was, to Butters delight, alert and absorbed in the conversation.
"Yeah… Yeah Butters. I totally get what your saying."
"Y-ya do?"
"Yeah I hate money too."
"You do?!"
"Yeah… Money is nice when you have it, but it's fucking hell when you need it but ain't got it. Cuz like ya know my family isn't the," Kenny coughed a little, "most richest family in South Park…" Butters knew that. " Actually My parents puts most of the money they get into school so I can go to South Park High." Butters didn't know that.
"R-really? Like wah- they need extra money just so you can go to stinky South Park High?" Butters suddenly felt guilty for taking all his years of school for granted.
Kenny nodded. "Yeah. The other kid's parents… they just spend all their money on coke and shit."
"Like the drink...?"
"No Butters not the drink…" Another funny look. "The illegal drug."
"Oh." He felt really stupid. "Wah- I knew that."
They had moved to sitting cross legged Indian style on the carpet, and Butters had at first mentally objected to it as not wanting to get dirty on his new pants from the gross looking carpet. But he was too absorbed in Kenny to notice, or even care for that matter. The small framed boy was leaning forward, knuckles bumping of course, and his eyes glued to Kenny's. He had never realized how… interesting the other teen was. As kids, Kenny as always the one over looked and underappreciated and what with that silly hood covering his mouth and muffling his speech all the time… It was hard holding a conversation with him. But now Butters and Kenny, the latter of the two with his orange hood down and mouth exposed, were talking just fine.
Kenny had that strange look on his face. Well not the look, the far away one, but another one he seemed to use frequently around Butters. Where he'd lean his head to one side, eyebrows shifting a little and he'd stare at him like he couldn't really believe he was really here. Butters couldn't decide then if he liked the look or not.
Kenny set his elbow on his knee and leaned his scratched up cheek on his clenched fist just…staring at the other boy. "So," he finally said after getting comfortable.
"So…" Butters picked at his nails awkwardly. He cursed himself again for being so awkward and wished that he would give off a good impression as Kenny. He wished Kenny would think he was as intriguing as Butters thought he was. "Stupid. Stupid Stupid…"
"How are ya feeling?"
"Stupid-" "Hmm wah- W-what?" Butters was drawn out of his internal argument to focus his gaze back on Kenny who was eyeing up the cut on Butters cheekbone. Slowly his eyes traveled south and looked at the dark purple bruises that smudge Butters bare chest.
"That motherfucker really hurt you huh?"
"Naw… It's not that bad. I mean I've h-had worse…" Another lie. "Jesus Christ Butters you're on a roll today huh?" Butters head ached and he suddenly just wanted to be at home… Back in his soft warm bed drinking hot coco while his mother rubbed his back.
A dark look crossed Kenny's face. "Worse… yeah. Like that time I threw a fucking ninja star in your eye…" He looked down scornfully and pursed his lips together.
"Wha-No! I mean y-yes that did hurt… But um I was ok right?" Butters said quickly not wanting to upset his new friend. They were friends now… right? Butters never really was quite clear on the rules of friendship, but he was almost positive that if somebody saved your life as Kenny had done for him, that counted towards a friendship. Plus it was pretty friendly how Kenny was moving closer… and closer? "Wha-what…?" Butters trailed off as Kenny scooted towards him with one hand stretched out.
His fingers grazed the skin right above and below Butters left eye socket. And Butters couldn't help but feel little chills run up and down his back… "No Leopold. Bad thoughts. Bad thoughts." His voice of conscience echoed, this time taking the voice of his concerned, but angry father. Kenny stared intently at the faint outline of a scar, a look of pity and guilt on his handsome- "No." features…. His fingers were a considerable length and thin like pencils, his touch as light as a feather as he touched the place he had hurt so long ago.
"I'm really sorry you know..." he whispered and withdrew his fingers. Butters kinda sorta almost wished he hadn't stopped… But he would never admit that out loud of course.
"Um…" For once Butters was lost for words, his voice hanging open a little. "It's ok, Kenny. Honest. I'm wah- fine!"
The other teen's wondering fingers worked their way downwards as he used the same feathery touch on Butters bare chest, lightly touching each and every bruise. "I was um… really worried you were like dead ya know." "Is he wah- touching my chest!" "I didn't think you'd like survive that." "Jesus Christ w-why is he doing this!" "Cuz I mean that fucker threw you pretty hard and your pretty small." "And why am I letting him?"
"You're actually pretty tough, Leopold Stoch." A light playful punch to the shoulder. "Not such a little pussy after all, huh?" Kenny pulled his hand back and smiled warmly at the boy.
Butters just stared at him immediately missing the warmth of his touch. "Um.. yeah…" "Bad thoughts. Bad thoughts. Bad thoughts. This is what the counselor had warned you about, Butters! This is directly what you aren't supposed to be doing! What are you d-doing mister! You should wah- be home r-right now!"
"I um... waah- need to be getting h-home now, Kenny…" He practically whispered the boy's name.
Kenny prickled. "Oh… Right um ya. You'd probably be grounded, huh…"
The other teen nodded.
Kenny was silent for a minute, and Butters could see he was deep in thought. "Well… I mean I totally would like drive you home but our car is kinda outta gas… And were actually um," here, to Butters astonishment, Kenny blushed, "outta gas money, too."
So a ride home was out of the question.
"It's ok, Kenny! I'll walk home."
"No." He had said it so forcefully that Butters pulled back in surprise and fell backwards on the carpeting. After a moment, he pulled himself up and stared at his friend. "Um… No? Ya see Kenny I don't think you're um... wah- gettin' the point. I'm already gonna be grounded for staying out as it is… waah- I really need to get home…"
"I said no. Sorry dude, but you cant go outside alone at this time of night. Trust me when I say you would honestly be putting your life in danger," Kenny said in all seriousness. And Butters believed him. It was just so… easy to believe what this rough harden boy said and Butters hung on to his every word like a hurt puppy.
"So-so what am I wah- supposed to do then?"
"You can stay the night over here until morning. Then we can um… I don't know. I'll get Kyle to drive you home. He's a nice guy like that."
S-stay… over night? "Bad thoughts. Bad thoughts. Bad thoughts." "Oh Golly… Um wow Kenny that sure is wah- nice of you!" Butters whispered, his eyes locked down onto his own crossed legs.
Kenny shrugged.
"I mean… really that's nice…." Butters glanced up at the boy and met his eyes. This, well this was their real test of friendship. Yeah, Butters had had lots of sleepovers before, with Eric that is, and he was positive that that was only what friends would do. This would mean they would be, did he dare say it- friends? We he and Kenny friends?
"Kenny…Are we friends?"
The other boy stiffened and sat up, that same darn look on his face. His mouth pursed and he dug those long fingers into his hair again combing through it lightly just adding to its messiness. Then he smiled. "Um well… Yeah. Yeah we're friends Butters."
Butters beamed and felt actually… really proud of himself. Friendship was something Butter's had always lacked and in reality, Eric was the only one to really confirm their existent friendship. It filled the teen with a happy bubbly feeling that this other kid, somebody who was most definitely not Eric, said they were friends. After that, the boy perked up quite a considerable amount. "Well gee thanks Kenny! That means a lot Kenny!" Even saying his name was special. Cuz it was saying a friends name.
Kenny laughed a little bit and stared at him. "You're a strange kid Butters."
He froze. Strange? "Strange? Well um… wah- strange in a good way," Was that even possible to be strange in a good way! "or strange in an um b-bad way…" The happy feelings quickly melted away.
The other teen shrugged… then said, "In a good way I guess. But I hardly see how that matters. It shouldn't matter what I think." Butters knew that statement was a huge understatement for Kenny's opinion on him mattered a whole heck of a lot to the boy. But he would never admit that of course.
Hope that was at least somewhat enjoyable... Reviews make me very very very extremely tearfully happy. Seriously. ;v; More to come soon... hopefully. Buh bai~
p.s. I don't own South Park (Obviously)