Liebende Rückblende

By SEGAMew

Disclaimer:

South Park and all related characters are property of Trey Parker and Matt Stone, because they are geniuses and I'm not.

Any historical persons that appear in this work of fiction are loosely based of their real life counterpart and possibly portrayed poorly. Reader discretion is advised.

There is no plans to include any OCs/FCs in this fanfiction. So don't worry if you're anti OC/FC. If there are to be any OC/FC, they will be only background characters with probably a few unmemorable lines.

Last Time in Liebende Rückblende Ch. 3:

Stan learns that Cartman still doesn't have a Green Mega Ranger.

Cartman learns that Kyle is still a dirty Jew who refuses to respect his Authoritah.

Kyle is in so much fucking pain that he didn't really learn anything.

Münch learns that Kyle is diabetic.

Pairings: Kyman (Kyle x Cartman) and others that will be revealed in later chapters (absolutely no fan pairings)

Warnings: M for harsh language and horrendous gratuitous acts of violence. No lemon/smut/stuff like that because I'm horrible at writing such things. There will be mild lime and adult situations however. I mean come on, it's a South Park fanfic!

Chapter 4: Realisierung (Realization)

Location: Auschwitz II - Birkenau

Kyle's POV (about 5 minutes before the end of Münch's POV in the last chapter)

I think we're in a building... I have no idea. I feel so messed up. The only reason why I think I'm in a building was because of the mustached SS Doctor's boot steps hitting what is probably a concrete surface. I'm being carried for a little bit before I was placed on the floor, against the corner of the room or building or whatever.

I felt my knifed arm being lifted up a little followed by someone cutting my sleeve. Must be the SS Doctor. Suddenly I felt a sting on my arm, following by a cool feeling on my skin. Definitely alcohol. I winced and opened my eyes, the stinging 'waking' me up from my almost sleeping state. He spoke to me in a calm voice.

"I like you to close your eyes for me and take a deep breath. Can you do that?"

I nodded and slowly took a deep breath. I was still pretty out of it so I'm not sure what to expect. Then...

"AAGH FUCKING SHIT!"

Fueled by natural primal instincts, I raised my right hand wanting to grab my now knifeless, vulnerable left arm. However my reach was blocked off by the doctor's much stronger grip on my wrist. Took me a second to realize that he was already (or was he always?) applying pressure on my left arm. I trembled in response to the searing pain in my left arm. It fucking hurts so bad! The SS Doctor put my hand down and started dressing my stab wound.

He whispered to me, almost like how a mom would patch up a kid's knee, "Almost done...shh..."

I squeezed my eyes shut and concentrated on taking deep breaths to block out the pain. Not really working.

"Augh... H-hurts..."

Finally, he finished patching my arm up. He rubbed my arm, probably to rub the pain away or something. I opened my eyes a little and flashed him an appreciative smile.

"Th... Thank you... "

I almost forgot that he's a Nazi. It's really weird... I can actually... tolerate...

I felt his palm on my forehead. Huh? When did I closed my eyes? He pushed my head back a little bit and forced each of my eyes opened while shinning an annoying light.

"What is your name?"

I wait for him to stop examining my mouth before answering.

"Kuh..." no... I should use my Flashback name, "Eh..zek..ial..."

Shit, why... do I sound so...

"I'm glad to meet you Ezekiel. My name is Dr. Münch."

I felt two fingers against my jugular vein.

"How old are you?"

My eyelids weigh a ton... How old am I again? I think I'm...

"... T-ten..."

"How are you feeling? Where does it hurt, besides your arm?"

... can't focus...

"I... can I sleep... puh-please..."

I closed my eyes... I blacked out I think.

The next thing I realize, he was gone...

...

..

.

Location: Hell's Pass Hospital

Dr. Doctor's POV

My peaceful nap in one of the patient rooms was interrupted by unrelenting tugging of my coat sleeve. Looking over, I saw that strange kid wearing the orange parka. By strange, I mean this feeling I have that he's a regular patient here but never ever recalling him checking out of the hospital, nor do his records indicate such. Oh well, probably the stress of doctoring in the hospital.

"Mmmph mpph!"

I have no idea what he said, but I followed him until we reached the room where Eric Cartman and Kyle Broflovski were assigned to. Upon entering, I saw Stanley putting a damp cloth on the young Broflovski's forehead. Stanley looked at me worriedly.

"Dr. Doctor! Christ, h-he's burning up! Please help him, Doc!"

I rushed over to check the readings on his monitor, then to the boy, " What is happening to Kyle in the dream world?"

Stanley looks offended, "H-huh? Why... why are you asking that? My super best friend is here, not in that crazy Nazi nightmare goddammit!"

I decided to ignore his use of language, "The Kyle in the dream world, he's in a bad situation, isn't he?"

He broke his eye contact with me and faced Kyle, frowning, "Yeah..."

I sighed, rubbing my forehead, "I was afraid of that."

He quickly faced me again, "What do you mean? What's wrong with Kyle?!"

I rubbed my chin, thinking of the easiest way to explain something complex as this to the young boy. I tapped the top of the Dream-Viewer.

"Think of it this way... Have you watched Nightmare on Elm Street?"

"Actually no, I haven't... But I met Freddy Krueger once."

"Well, to be brief, Kyle's dream self and Kyle's real self are linked together. Whenever something happens to Dream Kyle, our Kyle reacts to it."

I paused, waiting for Stanley's reaction. He nods in understanding, but still has that frown. I decided to continue.

"If something severe happens to Dream Kyle, that trauma manifests itself onto his physical body."

Stanley reached over and held one of Kyle's hands. He looked at me with an expression I can only described as a mix of concern and sorrow, "Doctor... If Dream Kyle were to die in there, would he die for real?"

"Um... There's not a lot of data in this study, so I'm not sure what will happen if Dream Kyle dies."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"...Would you like to sign the DNR form, Stanley?"

"No!"

Location: Auschwitz II - Birkenau

Cartman's POV

Walking towards the hospital barracks, I saw that buttMünch heading towards the kitchen in the Woman's Camp. Well shit, I told him to take care of Kyle, not stuff his face or hooking up with stupid girls! Meh whatever, if you want something done, you have to grab the initiative by the balls. I strolled right into the hospital barracks. Ugh I fucking hate this building, it smells worse than homeless people in a hot day in here! I took my peaked cap off and placed the opened end over my mouth to reduce the stench. It didn't take long for me to spot Kyle sitting in the corner dozing off. Aw how cute... NOT! I marched over and stood in front of him.

"Ay! Who says you can nap?!"

His finger twitched, but that was it. The fucking nerve of that fucking Jewrat! I spoke louder with authoritah.

"God dammit, look at meh when I'm talkin' to you!"

Kyle whispered while his eyes are still closed, "... fuck... you..."

My hands found their way to Kyle's collar and lifted him up to my face, "Care to run that by meh again, kike?"

Kyle finally woke up, no doubt by my constant shaking him. Christ, how hard is to to make some eye contact?! However, he didn't angrily attack me or glare at me like the Jewrat typically does when I use the 'K' word, much to my surprise. If I were to describe him, I would say he looks pretty fucked up. Not the good after a few bottles of booze kind either.

Slowly, he put his hands on my hands, looked at me with barely opened eyes, and whispered, "This flashback... S-stop it..."

I smirked and roughly toss him back against the wall. The Jew coughed on impact and held his arm, the one I stabbed.

"Oh, Kahl... I'm afraid I'm not in control of when the flashback starts or ends."

Kyle looked at me in disbelief, "Wuh... wha?"

My arms rested on the small of my back. I leaned over and whispered into his ear, "You're stuck on this train ride with meh. Someone else is the conductor," then I stood up straight and walked towards the exit.

I had just put my cap back on when I heard something hitting the floor behind me. I spun around and saw the Jew on the ground passed out and shit. What the fuck is wrong with him? All I did was stab his arm, it's not even that serious! I rolled my eyes and put him back into a sitting position like I saw him earlier. Now that I got a closer look at him, he does look really fucked up. He's all sweaty and shaking and shit. Is he hot or cold or what? I don't get it. But then again, 'Gingervitus' is one disease I'll never fully understand. He mumbled something but it was hard to understand. I shook his shoulder, but not as hard as earlier.

"Dude, what the fuck are you mumbling about?"

Kyle leaned forward a little bit and placed his forehead on his good hand, which is not the one I stabbed, "ugh... can't..."

"Ay! Whatever ya have, it better not be contagious! If I die here, mah real body dies with it!"

The stupid Jew gave me a stupid look like he couldn't believe me or didn't hear me. I repeated again, slower and more clearly... And with authoritah.

"If either of us dies in this flashback, our bodies in the real world does too. Got that memorized, Jew? Actually I don't give a shit about what happens to you. You can die. I however don't want to fuckin' die before I play fucking Call of Duty: Advanced Warfare! Fucking Call of Duty: Advanced Warfare, Kahl!"

Kyle quickly covered his mouth in such a way that indicates disgust. Shit is he serious? Call of Duty is the fucking shit! Way better than that faggoty Battlefield series!

I saw him tear up before he looked away from me. What a pussy faggot Jew. Can't admit that Call of Duty is the better game.

"... die... n-no way..."

Kyle held himself as the truth of my words sunk in. Not the truth about Call of Duty being sweet, which is unfortunate. Hmmm well, I guess it would suck for Kyle if he dies here. Maybe I can take advantage of this situation.

"Yeah, Kahl. You're probably gonna die here. If you just let meh use your TV OH!, you wouldn't be in this awesome flashback. However..." I paused to make sure he is listening, he is, "If say, we get out of this flashback alive... You pay meh ten million dollars. I believe that's a good price for your life, not that I think you're actually worth that much."

He glared at me, or something close to a glare. I would say it's more like upset than anger. He coughed into his good arm (which is obviously the one I didn't stabbed) and talked in a lazy tired voice he's been speaking in the entire time.

"I... don't have..."

Ugh he's a fucking no good Jew and his fucking dad is a lawyer! How can he not have ten million bucks? That is chump change! I rubbed my chin, thinking of an alternative form of payment.

"How about... five hundred dollars, you do mah homework for the rest of the school year..." I grinned, "And you suck mah balls. In front of your boyfriend, Stan."

"N-no! Fuck that!"

Well, his energy returned really quick. I reached for my pistol in my belt holster and pressed the barrel against Kyle's forehead, which made him go wide-eye in delicious fear.

"Well, if we can't come to an agreement, there's no point in keeping your fuckin' Jew ass around, now is there?"

"I-I...C-Cart...man...I..."

Fuck, I hate it when people stutter. And he looks like he's on the verge of a panic attack and crap too. I returned my pistol to my holster. It's no fun to mess with Kyle when he's acting like Tweak. I like messing with people when they're fully aware of what I'm doing. Just like with Scott Tenorman. With the pistol out of sight, the Jewrat relaxed a little but it still looks like something is bothering him. Whatever I don't give a fuck. I lightly kicked the bottom of his shoe to jolt him awake then started walking towards the exit.

"Kahl, sometimes we all have to bend over to get what we want. Want me to protect your Jew balls? Well I'm gonna need a little somethin' in exchange. That's how the world works. And believe it or not, there are people here who do terrible things. There is no such thing as the 'Gentleman's Code' in this camp. Let that sink in. I'll give you twenty-four flashback hours to give meh your final answer to my proposal."

I looked over my back to see the Jew passed out against the wall, and again,not the good passed out with booze kind either. Something is nagging me about his passed out state too. He looks like he's in pain and it wasn't caused by me either. Like, I feel great when I inflict pain on others, be it psychologically or physically. I feel fucking great stabbing the dirty Jew, but something other than the stab wound is affecting him and I don't like it one bit. Not one bit at all. I don't like not being in control over one's condition, especially Kyle.

Oh well, probably a cold or something.

Münch's POV (approximately five minutes after Cartman leaves Kyle)

I returned to the hospital barracks with a paper bag containing a variety of items. I hanged my peaked cap on the cloths rack and went over to Ezekiel. He's exactly where I left him... location wise. I knelt down and shook his shoulder. I frowned, then shook him firmer. I let out a sigh of relief when he opened his eyes, albeit barely halfway, and not focused on anything.

"Ezekiel."

No reply. I try again.

"Ezekiel, how do you feel?"

This time, he blinked and gazed towards me, though his head didn't move from its original position. Poor boy, he's so weak. I reached into the bag and withdrew an unopened bag of Gummibär. I opened the bag, took out one of the small gelatin bears, and held it close to the boy's mouth.

"Ezekiel, you're suffering from extremely low blood sugar levels. Can you eat twelve of these?"

He glanced down towards the gummy bear between my fingers and slightly nodded. I fed him the first piece and watched him chew and swallow. Eventually, he managed to consume twelve of the gummy pieces after roughly ten minutes. Hopefully that'll do it. I never treated anyone with diabetes before so this is something of a new experience for me.

"Th... thirsty..."

I smiled hearing his voice returning. Reaching into the bag, I pulled out a bottle of grape juice. I was just about to twist the top when I heard a voice.

"Herr Dr. Münch, you can't give the boy that."

I looked up to see one of the Jewish prisoners who was forced into labor as a doctor, Berthold Epstein. He is an older man in his late 40's (though the stress of this camp does make him look older than he is). I believe he hails Austria or Hungary somewhere.

"What do you mean by that, Herr Dr. Epstein?"

He walks over and removes the grape juice bottle from my hands. He examined the bottle, rotating it as if reading the label. He then knelt down near Ezekiel, twisted the lid open, and placed the bottle in the boy's small hands. He aided the boy with lifting the bottle to his lips, allowing him to drink. Epstein spoke to me while still holding up the bottle.

"It isn't kosher for a non-Jew to pass grape-based products to one of the Jewish faith."

"I-I see..."

Usually I respect the religion of others, but life and death situations seems hardly appropriate to consider one's religions. I watched Ezekiel drink roughly half of the small bottle of grape juice before withdrawing and wiping his mouth with the back of his right hand. I smiled seeing his eyes looking more lively, no longer dull and distant. I reached into the paper bag, pulling the last item. Epstein spoke before he could see what I pulled out.

"You shouldn't overdo it. You know we don't have any Benedict's agent readily available to test glucose levels."

I pulled a vial and a syringe, "I'm not feeding him anymore sugar. Just going to inject some painkiller for his arm. That crazy SS stabbed him."

"...Dr. Mengele?"

I suppressed a chuckle, "Actually, Fuhrmann."

"That... Actually, that makes just as much sense."

I filled the syringe halfway with the drug, then tapped it to remove the bubbles, "I'm quite surprised he didn't kill the boy."

Epstein helped me with rolling up the boy's right sleeve and disinfecting the arm for entry. I felt his arm with two fingers, looking for his vein. Finding it, I stick in the needle and slowly inject the fluid into his arm. Ezekiel gasped and shifted uncomfortably. He trembled, then looked at me with a concerned expression.

"Wha... what are you..."

I finished injecting and removed the needle. I wiped away the blood and started wrapping his arm with gauze.

"It's a pretty strong opioid. Don't worry, it's a quarter dosage an adult would take."

Ezekiel nodded. He eventually laid his head on Epstein's lap, probably letting the drug work its very effective magic.

Epstein stroked the boy's back as he spoke, "Dr. Münch, what are the plans for this boy?"

I sighed, "I'm unsure. Fuhrmann only ordered me to 'take care of him'."

The older man eyed my collar patches reflecting my rank, "Ordered you...? Would you like me to give you a thorough head examination?"

I scoffed, "I believe he requires the examination more than I do."

Location: Hell's Pass Hospital

Stan's POV

"Kenny, Kyle looks better!"

I'm so relieved, Kyle's fever broke and he went back to well... a normal coma. He must be feeling good right now or something in that flashback. Kenny seemed happy too that Kyle was going to be all right.

"Mmphp mppmh. Mmmpgmm mpp."

"Well, I think next week is too soon. If they wake up before the project is due, I'm good."

Kenny looked at Cartman with something of a worried expression, "Mphh mphh..."

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, not looking at Kenny, "C'mon, Cartman wouldn't actually let Kyle die! H-He probably just messing with him."

Kenny crossed his arms and looked at me, probably detecting my lie. While Kyle is the nerd of the group, there's no doubt Kenny knows and has seen some really crazy shit and knows more than he lets on. I sighed.

"I wish there was some way we can dive in and pull them out or something..."

Just then, Kenny ran past me, opened the window, and jumped out. I screamed and ran over to try and grab him but I was too late. I saw Kenny's twitching body on the pavement in a bloody mess. Like how I'm too slow to pull my friend back, I was too slow to stop my puke from ending up on the hospital floor. I frustratingly cried out to no one in particular as if on reflex.

"Oh my God! Kenny, you bastard! How could you leave me alone on this project?!"

Notes from SEGAMew:

Aaaand that's chapter 3! Most of it takes place in a hospital of some sort, how very fun. Probably not fun for Kyle though hehe.

In terms of historical accuracies, you know I try to be as close as I possibly can. There are things like certain interactions between staff prisoners and SS staff, including their personalities, that I took some creative licenses with. But I feel I did the best I could while keeping it interesting. I also type these while having a map of Auschwitz-Birkenau opened. I was also in the Navy for four years so some certain military etiquette may pop up here and there that might not apply to the German Military or the SS. Sometimes there are things Google can't help with. I'll probably have to watch a few documentaries or something.

Hmm I wonder what will happen to Kyle and Cartman next? And poor Kenny has committed suicide! Or has he...? Post your predictions if you want in the comments!

Translation Notes_

Herr - It's like an honorific for Sir or Mister. Imagine if you are an anime enthusiast, it's the equivalent of -san. From my understanding, when you are addressing someone's title in terms of occupation, you would say it like Herr Dr. Münch.

Gummibär - Gummy bear! It's a German invented candy in case you didn't know, very popular too.

Review Responses_

_Marty: Glad you enjoyed Chapter 2~ I figured the best way to make this kind of story is by different point of views. Why stick to one perspective I say! As for Hans Münch, I thiiink you might be mistaking him for someone else... ;)

_Ari: Now that you read the next chapter, what do you think?

_Cster: Took a few days longer than planned, but the next chapter has arrived! What do you think?

_deathNspikes: Another fan of the POV format, yay! And I'll take your advice and do translation notes. Though, anyone can pop these phrases in Good translate so you don't have to scroll all the way down the page and lose your place!

_Lunar0: Thanks, I certainly hope I keep the POVs as accurate to their personalities as possible. Some chars are definitely harder to "role play" than others...

_Sarah: I know right!