When the sun had risen enough for Kyle to see through the thin veil of his eyelids and Butters had already boiled the water, he knew he would never regret deciding to stick with him. It might not seem like that big a deal, but a hot drink in the morning was a morale booster like no other.

"Mornin'." Butters greeted as Kyle took the single glass from him. It was the only drinking utensil they had, so he was planning to drink down his coffee fast in case Butters wanted it back. "I was thinkin' once you're up we could go explorin'?"

It was way too early in the morning, having just cracked his eyes open, for Kyle to even think about exploring. He nodded his simple reply and drank from the glass. It wasn't the best coffee, he was sure he'd felt some dirt pass down with the drink, but he couldn't ask for anything more.

They'd opted to stay the night in the dense forest area around Stark's Pond, where it was safe to light fire on the path and both directions were open and clear in case they needed to get away quick.

As cold and damp as it was around the pond, Kyle sensed Butters loved this place.

They had considered staying put in the bakery, but it was so horribly fortified and vulnerable that Kyle felt like a gust of wind could have knocked down their protection. They were better off out in the open.

Butters had taken to repairing Kyle's threadbare outer sleeping bag as soon as he'd noticed one of the laddered rips, a passion like a thousand suns in his eyes as he threaded the needle and made the first stitch. It was almost an enlightening experience, Kyle thought, watching someone so captivated while doing such a simple, nearly uncalled for, chore. But like he would soon grow to know, he'd never have to wait too long for an explanation to Butters actions.

"Y'know what's really been getting' to me lately?" he mumbled as he worked, and Kyle had to double check to make sure he wasn't hearing things. They'd been quiet for quite a while. Butters raised his rosy face expectantly, and Kyle shrugged; an encouragement to continue. "This darn boredom! There's nothin' to do!"

Kyle just observed as Butters ranted, silently agreeing, though he'd been trying to keep himself busy by shredding bark to add to their dwindling fire.

"Now that there's two of us – so we have safety in numbers and all that – what do ya reckon we go lookin' for somethin' to do?" Butters suggested energetically, his desire for more fun shining bright in those honest eyes of his. Kyle took a second to compile his distracted thoughts into an answer.

"I mean… that sounds great, but shouldn't we have, like, a plan or something?" he asked with an air of not really know what he was talking about. He didn't know what was out there like Butters did, his face was scar-free. "We've only just grouped up and to be honest it would kind of suck to be separated already."

If Butters needed to sort through his thoughts at all, he did it very quickly. "W-well, that would be kind of a shame…" he agreed, kicking a little tornado of ash up with the front of his sneaker, "but I know my way around, Kyle, s-so don't worry!"

With that reassurance, Butters rolled up Kyle's good-as-knew (as far as he was concerned) sleeping bag and carefully tucked it in the other's backpack before lithely climbing up a few branches of a tree nearby. Kyle didn't have a clue why he would do such a thing until he came back minutes later with an armful of dry twigs for their fire. He threw his fistful of painstakingly shredded bark fibers on top of them, feeling especially insignificant in comparison.

How did Butters survive this long?

Despite every one of his brain cells screaming at him that it was a bad idea, Kyle agreed to follow Butters into town once again. To search for fun. He was sure he'd eventually look back on this and realize what a dumb decision it was, but how could he refuse Butters fun when he looked at him with those eyes? It was a lost cause from the first protest.

"So…" he started, a day later with their camp in their tracks and their mind already wired on the course to their destination; the Manor. "You definitely know how to get there safely? I have this," he tapped his fingers against the handle of his knife still secure in his belt, "but I'd really prefer to not have to use it."

Butters averted his gaze from Kyle's face to one of the many indistinguishable trees up ahead. "I mean, I-I can't really promise no trouble…" he stuttered, the pressure of leading another human safely through the backstreets of town obviously now weighing on him a little heavier. Butters didn't want to be the cause of any marks on Kyle's unmarred skin. "Sometimes a Thing comes outta nowhere a-and you just gotta do your best to improvise… But the backstreets are a whole lot safer."

It was quiet for a little longer then, the only noises piercing the silence around the boys being the crunching of icy gravel under their worn shoes. It was easy to find peace in the quiet and the company of an old friend, but Kyle knew he couldn't let himself get complacent with the situation. He needed to keep on guard. Watch Butters blind spots and hope he'd reciprocate. It would be much too easy to let himself get too comfortable.

It didn't take them as long to get to the backstreets of South Park as it took Kyle to get to the bakery. The sun wasn't even high in the sky by the time their destination was in view, a monstrous construction of fancy brickwork surrounded by a few months' worth of decay. With every step in front of him Kyle regretted this more and more. He couldn't imagine himself walking back out through those double doors after walking in.

He felt a light pressure on his arm and grabbed at it, his nerves completely on end. Before he could even realize it was Butters, the blond had taken him by the shoulders and forced him to stop walking. It was really not an appropriate thing to do in their current situation: grabbing him like that.

"Stay still for a second," Butters ordered softly, handling Kyle as if he would disintegrate with the slightest brush of his fingers. Kyle did as he said and kept rigid, though when Butters wrapped his arms around him the instinct to fight it roared in his chest so fiercely it was almost a physical pain. "We'll be alright, Kyle, just gotta keep it together. Well, I ain't lasted this long by losin' my nut, of course."

After the initial panic of being surrounded by a barrier of flesh faded away, it annoyed Kyle that he felt utterly comfortable hugging Butters. He shouldn't have let himself comfortable, there in the middle of the road. They shouldn't have talked so loudly. They shouldn't have taken the back roads after all.

"Do you hear that?!"

Kyle's voice was barely above a whisper, but Butters understood perfectly. He whipped his head around to scan the area, in positions that would have disturbed Kyle had his eyes not been so intensely focused on the second floor window of the Black's manor.

The sound was metallic, Kyle was sure, and loud enough that the source should have been close enough to see.

"Fuck, Butters…"

That was the worst part, not being able to see it. It was there, something. Kyle flinched as he heard the sound again, and unashamedly ducked behind Butters, taking a white-knuckle grip on the straps of his backpack. Why did he ever think this was a good idea? Why did Butters goofy face have to be so charmingly convincing?! He was never letting that face convince him of anything else.

If Kyle had thought his first encounter with a Creature had been bad, he could not have prepared himself for the second.

It came out from nowhere, like it had spawned on top of him. He knew that wasn't true, his dad told him these things were man made. Abominations of science. But it didn't matter what they were when their horrid, stinking flesh was pinning him into the concrete with the weight of what could have been a small car.

He couldn't hear for very long before his ears were filled with the strangely distant sounds of his own hacking coughs, but in the gaps he knew he heard Butters saving him. He wished he didn't. It sounded like ripping and trickling and several other fleshy sounds that began fading with his vision.

He was sure he'd wake up soon when he felt the air travelling back into his lungs and past his singed nose hairs. He was also sure hat he'd appreciate that new, bloody gash on his cheek a lot more, too; his first one.
_

/ Hi, just a note, I had a lot of this story written but lost it all when my macbook restarted and yeah... So for the next five or six chapters (as well as this one), it's stuff I have had to rewrite. Sorry if my writing comes off as a little frustrated. Thank you for the review! 3